Chapter 7
The swimming hole was just a wide spot in the creek. At this time of year, it was only about six feet deep and about the size of a backyard pool. Some years it was almost dry at this time, but this year there’d been some summer rains that kept the creek running.
The far side was a wall of boulders and pine woods. This side was an easy grassy slope of about an acre, somewhat churned up by cow tracks. Everyone watched where they walked or sat or suffered the consequences. There was a pile of pitched aside manure, the dried dung was barely nose-wrinkle-able any longer…especially upwind.
Blankets and colorful swim towels spread across the dry grass like brilliant banners. Folding tables and chairs had been hauled out and set up in the shade off to the side of the clearing. Pete st
