One of my questions about Uncle Abe is answered the next morning as I wait in the cold and dark for the school bus. Parked beside Uncle Billy"s truck is a big, old-timey car. Hooked behind it is a pull camper. The roof is hunched front to back, reminding me of a June bug. It"s green on the bottom and white on the top part. What"s odd are the tiny silver wings sprouting high on each side. Shasta, letters on the back declare.
ShastaThere"s a square window with curtains. Uncle Abe must be awake because light shines from behind them, and I see a shape moving to and fro.
I decide to go knock on his door, but before I can take a step in that direction, the yellow bus lumbers up the drive.
* * *
At school, everyone is talking about the big sawmill news. I"m not the most popular kid in the sch
