chain-link fence he had discovered that morning and ran into the
iceberg-lettuce farm next to the apartment building. I followed him
through the rows of big green leaves, and we eventually settled down to
feast, burying our faces in the huge wet heads of lettuce and eating until
our stomachs ached.
"I guess we scared them off pretty good," I said to Brian.
"I guess," he said.
He never liked to brag, but I could tell he was proud that he had taken on
four bigger, tougher kids, even if they were girls.
"Lettuce war!" Brian shouted. He tossed a half-eaten head at me like a
grenade. We ran along the rows, pulling up heads and throwing them at
each other. A crop duster flew overhead. We waved as it made a pass
above the field. A cloud sprayed out from behind the plane, and a fine
white powder came sprinkling down on our heads. Two months after we
moved to Blythe, when Mom said she was twelve months pregnant, she
at last gave birth. After she'd been in the hospital for two days, we all
drove out to pick her up. Dad left us kids waiting in the car with the
engine idling while he went in for Mom. They came running out with
Dad's arm around Mom's shoulders. Mom was cradling a bundle in her
arms and giggling sort of guiltily, like she'd stolen a candy bar from a
dime store. I figured they had checked out Rex Walls–style.
"What is it?" Lori asked as we sped away.
"Girl!" Mom said.
Mom handed me the baby. I was going to turn six in a few months, and
Mom said I was mature enough to hold her the entire way home. The
baby was pink and wrinkly but absolutely beautiful, with big blue eyes,
soft wisps of blond hair, and the tiniest fingernails I had ever seen. She