Chapter 6
Welfare days were the worse. Agnostine would haul Brendell’s poppa to town where they cashed their cheque and spent the next five hours in their favourite beer parlour. When the old Ford truck was spotting coming up the long road, its own peculiar cloud of dust bellowing in its path, the kids would scatter.
Brendell wasn’t as skilled at finding a hiding place when she was little. At twelve, though, she was quick like a jackrabbit. Before the truck turned the last curve, she was halfway to the creek. She’d climb the big oak tree and often find her brother Jules already perched on a safe branch.
Still, she had to come home eventually.
On the really bad days, Jules would make her promise to wait fifteen minutes after he left before starting for home. By the time she arrived, Agn
