Chapter TenIrwin tugged at a stubborn clump of grass that had infiltrated one of the victory gardens behind the kitchen. The chunk broke free, and dirt shot into the air, spattering Irwin. Grimacing, he spat out the grit then used his handkerchief to wipe the soil from his face. He climbed to his feet, stumbled to the pump, and worked the handle up and down, listening to the gurgle head to the surface.
The muscles in his arm contracted as he gripped the rusted iron pipe. Water spewed from the faucet, and he ducked his head under the frigid flow, rubbing the soil and debris from his hair and skin. The stream beat a tempo on the ground, creating a muddy patch around the pump. The scent of his sweat mingled with the smell of the sodden grass.
Getting as clean as possible from washing in the
