Shelley was a Bearer.She always tucked her hair up under an old straw hat and then donned an old tattered shirt and a beat-up pair of canvas trousers....It made her look like a little old man from a distance, no need to attract undue attention to herself, a lone female, superstitions or not. It was a day’s round trip journey so she started out early. She dragged her rickety two-wheeled cart from the underbrush and trudged up the path to the road. It was a fair day and she lost herself in her. Don carried the empty plate and bottle back to the kitchen as she watched him walk and return. She didn’t seem afraid of him, but rather curious in his movements and the hut she found herself in. She tried to sit up, but Don could see by the pained look on her face that her head still hurt and the movement aggravated the injury.“Easy angel,” he said and she smiled big. “I don’t want you hurt again.”She seemed to understand his words, even though she still said nothing and lay back on the couch.. More

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