Way ahead, I could make out what I thought was a house, but
when I finally got to it, it turned out to be an old piece of a
shack-either a cotton house or corn crib, ready to fall down. No
matter. It was a good enough place to hide. Mister Ward would
never think about looking for me in a crib.
Inside it was dark. I bumped into what smelled and felt like
a stack of dry corn, still in the shuck. Yeah! It was corn, the
same kind we had in our crib at home. I could hide in that.
Sleep, too. So I scrooched down in the mound and covered myself
with shucks and stalks, leaving only my face out. Now, Mister
Ward couldn't find me! Not ever, ever!
Chapter 7
Crowing roosters waked me. I rolled over and opened my eyes.
What had happened to the top of our house? There wasn't any top!
Just sky! Papa was right. He had been telling us for a long time
that our roof was going to fall in if he didn't get good crops
and build Mama a new house. Papa was 'shamed for Mama to have to
live in an old dogtrot house built before the Civil War.
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