She ate watermelon in the back of a truck as Daddy drove through town. They passed the church where her sister left the groom at the altar. Took off for Little Rock. Nobody has heard or seen her since. All kinds of rumors. That tends to happen.

They passed the filling station her brother robbed back when he was a kid. Stuck a gun up to the cashier’s face and demanded cash. He’s doing time. Writes home asking for money so he can get cigarettes. Daddy says he can go to hell. Said the boy couldn’t be his; must be the mailman’s.

There’s the tavern where Granddad died one night, she whispered as she spit out seeds. Had a heart attack right there at the bar. They dragged him out by his shoulders and threw him on the sidewalk. His brown eyes looked up to heaven. Doubt if he got there.

Daddy drove through the  cemetery and parked the truck by mom’s grave. A bluebird whistled. He placed flowers there. Tulips. The kid wondered if she was resting in peace. She often thought about that.