The way he had killed Mother, when she wouldn’t get out of his way…but Lucy had gotten out of the way, taking the coiled thing with her, so Daddy wouldn’t try to chop it apart with the ax he’d gone and gotten from the woodpile out in back of the house. Lucy didn’t think Gramma needed it just then—not while Daddy was swinging that ax, hurting her. And hadn’t Gramma’s eyes closed again when Lucy scooped the golden, bug-headed thing off her body and scurried out of the room on four tiny feet, her belly fur scraping the floor as she sped through between Daddy’s legs, so fast he didn’t see her.
Lucy had felt a little like an Injin-giver when she took away the slithering, writhing golden coil and held it against her body, but she knew Gramma would understand. Hadn’t Gramma hidden Lucy behind he
