‘That’s what you used to call them. Remember you used to tell me about paintings and pictures, what they meant and what the artist was trying to d.... Why they worked or why they didn’t. You even used to critique wrapping paper. I used to love your stories.’ He laughed. ‘Did I? I didn’t know. What an insufferable son of a bitch I was, huh?’ ‘So you don’t do that anymore?’ ‘I guess not. Who would I tell? You were the only one who would ever put up with me.’ She stood up a little straighter. She. ” One day when I was about ten, my little brother finally told me, “We don’t want you on our side. You like getting caught.” Since I was the oldest child, I had to watch my three younger brothers while my parents worked around the farm. Dad bought one of the neighboring farms and some company bought the other so it was now just us in the area. My brothers and I still played capture games a lot, but with no neighbors left, it was three against one. I would hide in the barn or in the. More

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