Monday, May 4, 2009
It didn't work out me living alone~
I told myself I was glad that Comfort was gone and I didn't have to listen to her preaching about deportment, cleanliness, and proper speech. The first week, I lived the life of a gypsy, out all day, fishing, and in at dark, bedding down in my own place.
By the second week, I was pretty tired of fish, and thinking about doing some hunting when my life took yet another turn.
Harvey Collins, the lecherous owner of a junk wagon that he called his Travelling Wagon of Interesting Items, passed me at the creek where I fished, and then doubled back to check on me again.
I knew better than to get complacent, and barricaded my door that night. According to gossip, Harvey had a reputation for pestering girls or worse. When I had asked Comfort what or worse meant, she'd rolled her eyes and said, "when you're older you'll understand."
I was reminded of that when he burst through my barricade that night, worse on his mind.
I clipped him with the clay pitcher I kept by the bed and ran all the way to the Lancasters.
It wasn't that hard to introduce myself to them after all.