CHAPTER EIGHT
"Why not stop by Myrna's trailer on the way to the dogs?" Amanda suggested as they stepped out of the railroad car.
"All right." Joan skipped down with her hands clasped behind her back. Like a youngster she pretended there was a hopscotch figure and jumped a leggy dance through all nine squares in the imaginary pattern.
Will she never stop being a child? Amanda wondered as she watched the girl hop. For her sake, I hope not too abruptly, she thought.
Myrna's trailer was next to the elephant wash and one of the brutes trumpeted a greeting upon seeing the girl. She couldn't have, thought Amanda. It's too ridiculous to even think about. Why do I always think the cause is s*x when it comes to Joan? Perhaps because it so often is.
They reached Myrna's trailer and found the do
