There is so much talk about the sawmill at school Tuesday morning that it sounds like I"m walking through a cloud of "squitoes when I walk down the hall.
"I ain"t afraid of ghosts," says Johnny Myers. He"s the pitcher on the baseball team. He"s all puffed up like he"s raring for a fight.
One of the girls always hanging "round him shoots him lovey eyes.
"My daddy"s a c***k shot," declares Jim. "Whatever is hiding back in the trees better not show its face, or he"ll blast them to the moon."
I just roll my eyes and continue walking to my classroom. Wonder what they"d do about coming "cross hissing green Bernardo hanging from a tree? Scream, I"m thinking.
The day goes on forever, especially since I keep nodding off over my desk. Finally, I"m home, and the bus is turned around and going ba
