The next day was much the same. Jeremy ate his breakfast, asked for and took medicine when he needed it, and was up for more of the day. Josh went to work. Jason sat at the desk and wrote instead of sitting in a chair reading.

Jeremy stood next to Jason watching him write.

Jason glanced at him.

Jeremy put his finger on the margin of the paper. "You're writing a- a schedule of remembries?"

"A timeline, yes." Jason shifted position so Jeremy could look at it.

"Why?"

"Curiosity."

"Huh." Jeremy studied the page. "Wh-when we first c-came to town," he murmured.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Maybe someday people will want to know what it was like, moving from a mountain to a town."

Jeremy's lips twitched. "Mountain to m-mudhole. They'll think we was crazy."

"They always say that about pioneers, creators, and history makers."

"Huh." Jeremy moved away.

Jason watched him. "You could write your version, you know."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause I don't remember it on a calendar. The yesterdays that were todays are all scrambled up."

"What do you remember?"

"Dunno. Being scared. Being angry. Bad smells. Too m-many p-peoples everywhere. I wanted to g-go home, even if it was somewhere else on the mountain and without Mama. I tried to 'splain that the f-first t-time I t-tried to go b-back, but the w-words wouldn't come."

"I remember that." And would never forget it; it had changed Jeremy so. "Do you want to try now?"

"No." Jeremy wandered over to the cookstove and checked the coffeepot. "I want it to never happened and Mama will wake me up and we'll go walk in the trees." He shook his head. Jason wondered if it was at his words or at the coffee. "Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Jeremy sighed. "I know it ain't, and it can't, and even that maybe the me now wouldn't like to b-be a b-baby, or an almost still one. But I can wish."

"Yes, wishes are – available. For everyone, or anyone."

"Uh-huh. You want some coffee?"

"I could stand a break. Shall we go outside?"

Jeremy, handling the coffeepot, slid a smile at Jason. "So w-we can t-try to hear Josh working?"

Jason laughed. "Among other things. I need to stretch my legs. Indolence isn't good for me."

Jeremy nodded. "You're an outside p-person. And you DO th-things, not sit and write."

"I can when I have to, but I admit to being glad when I find an excuse not to." He took up the cup Jeremy had poured for him in one hand, and the pot in another. "Put something on your feet, and a light coat and come on out." Jason headed for the door.

"Really?" Jeremy's face lit up. Usually Jason made him wait until he'd been without fever for a whole clock day, and it had only been a couple hours this time. He scrambled for his boots.

"As long as you don't get chilled, sitting in that sunlight will do you better than sitting around moping. Don't you think?"

"YES!" Jeremy grabbed his coat and yanked the door open.

Jason laughed.

000

"Jason?" Jeremy was sitting on the edge of the porch and had been quiet since they'd come outside. Jason was walking back and forth, occasionally stopping for coffee.

"Hmm?"

"D'you think it's important, writing stuff down."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Aren't you ever curious about how things were done before we had all these marvelous inventions, like railroads and steam engines and steel cables?"

"But I know all that stuff."

"How do you know it?"

Jeremy shrugged.

"Think about it."

Jeremy thought about it, sipping at his second cup of coffee. He was glad Jason had brought the pot out with them. "Cause you told me?"

"How did I know?"

Jeremy shook his head and thought some more. "Because you readed – I mean read it?"

"How did I do that?"

Jeremy studied Jason, trying to figure out what Jason was leading him to.

Jason waited.

"OH! B-because someb-body wrote it d-down!"

"Good b–." He corrected what he had been about to say. "Exactly."

"Huh."

Jason stopped to listen to a far off sound, and when he looked back, Jeremy had gone inside.

Jeremy was working at the stove, adding plants to a pot of something that – didn't smell bad. He looked up when Jason came in. "What if the d-days was all smushed together?"

Jason considered his answer. "If it's just for story telling, it's not wrong. If you were writing a historical account, it wouldn't be right. If it's something in between, like you were trying to explain feelings more than events, then it would be somewhere in between strict truth and strict story telling. The difference can usually be understood by the wording."

"Huh." Jeremy stirred what was in the pot – some kind of stew, no doubt. "I th-think I'll lay d-down a little bit."

"Too much fresh air? Would you like a dose?"

Jeremy grinned. "No. No, I wouldn't like it, but I should probably have one. It was a longer time this time, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and you don't feel feverish, but you look kind of droopish."

Jeremy smiled. "That's how I f-feel."

"Here you go then. Want me to tuck you in?"

Jeremy tossed off the dose and crawled into bed. "Only if you don't tell anyone."

Jason's big laugh boomed out, and Jeremy laughed with him.

"Jason, d'you s'posed I'd've got well f-faster before if I just took the medicine?"

"Yes. That's the whole point of having medicine."

"I guess that was part of being a k-kid."

"Most likely," Jason agreed solemnly, while settling Jeremy's blanket around him.

"Don't t-touch supper."

"What if it starts burning?"

"Wake m-me up."

"Yessir."

"You're f-funny." Jeremy rolled over and closed his eyes.

000

Jason was sitting by the door in a turned around chair, bemusedly watching Jeremy over by the counter, humming contentedly as he worked with his plants when Joshua opened the door.

Josh's eyes went to Jeremy as he blindly handed a rolled up letter to Jason. "Looks like somebody's feeling better."

Jason unrolled the letter.

Jeremy glanced his way and smiled. "If you brought more b-beans, dump 'em in the stew."

Josh laughed, and took the lid off the pot on the stove.

"Jeremy," Jason said.

Jason's tone alerted Jeremy and he looked up half alarmed.

"The judge will see us Monday morning."

Jeremy took a deep breath. "Oh."

"He probably won't hear the case until last – we have some others to be settled as well – but wants to speak with us privately."

"Me. N-not us."

"Us, Jeremy, but yes. Mostly you. He wants to do it in the morning because there's a –" Jason glanced at the letter in his hand, "young person involved."

"D-did he say 'ch-child?"

"He did not. Do you want to read this?" Jason offered the paper to his young brother.

Jeremy shook his head and washed his hands. He didn't speak while he scrubbed the dirt off his hands and out from under his fingernails.

Josh was putting a cloth wrapped bundle on the stovetop. Probably bread.

"I think," Jeremy said slowly, while drying his hands, "that I w-want to run and run and run. But I won't." His troubled eyes confirmed the promise in his voice and his words.

Jason, his eyes on Jeremy's, merely nodded.

Josh made fresh coffee.

Supper that night was a somber meal.