CHAPTER SEVEN
OCTOBER 15, 1960
After I got up this morning, I sat on the porch for some time just to gaze at the trees because they’re spectacular right now. Someone was burning leaves. That was a pleasant change from the smell of rancid corn and horse pucks.
I was going inside for more coffee when Ollie flew downstairs like an inflated macaw in her lemon-yellow blouse and turquoise skirt. (I’ve concluded that Ollie’s “color” is an attempt to be noticed. I guess even a large person can get lost in a small town.)
While we were chewing the fat, I subtly mentioned I had heard strange noises again last night, and that it wasn’t the first time. Ollie suggested maybe the raccoons were after her lettuce again. I figured that’s likely only if she’s growing lettuce in her bedroom. But I kept my
