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would come to blows. Actually, I thought Grandad

would swing that machete at him. Your uncle Simon

stepped between them and just stood there like a wall,

and they stopped.

"It calmed down. They ate some dinner and

then went out to work on the grain combine. That's

where the two of them are. Simon went up to his

room. He's got a bad cold. probably from having only

cold water to bathe in and sleeping in that dank. dark

place."

"Did he get his dinner?"

"I brought it to him," she said. "Why don't you

have something to eat now, Honey?"

"I was so embarrassed. Mommy," I moaned.

"Chandler will probably have nothing to do with me

now."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," she said.

"You weren't there. It was terrible. I was never

so frightened myself."

"I know. Let me make you something to eat,"

she insisted. rising. "At least some hot soup." She put her arm around me and we went inside. After I ate a little. I picked up my violin and

began to play. More and more lately, I was finding it

helped me express my innermost feelings. The music

always revealed what was truly going on within the

caverns of my heart. I didn't play that long, but when I

gazed out my window, I saw Uncle Simon had been

sitting by his. listening. He had a light on, and he

looked different because his head was slumped. I

supposed he had fallen asleep. I waited to see if he

would wake and wave good night, but he didn't, so I