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"Thanks."

After she left, I did lie back and close my eyes. I should be with Mommy now and she should want to be with me, not Archie Marlin. She'll be sorry when he leaves and she's all alone in the trailer, I thought, and then I decided I wouldn't stay away that long. I kept hearing Daddy explaining her actions, cajoling me to understand her weaknesses. He always felt more sorry for her than he felt for himself. I was sure he was doing the same thing right now, even though it was he and not she who was shut up in a coffin.

I wondered how long it would be before my friends would stop looking at me strangely. It would be so hard to return to school, I thought: all those pitying eyes aimed at me. I imagined even my teachers would gaze at me sorrowfully and speak to me in softer, sadder tones.

Maybe Mommy was right: maybe it was better to pretend nothing had happened. That way other people weren't so uncomfortable in your presence. But wasn't that like slapping Daddy's memory in the face? Some-how, I had to find a way to keep my sorrow private and go on with my life, as empty as it now seemed to be.

If I had a brother like Alice had, I wouldn't be fighting with him all the time, I thought. Right now, a brother would come in pretty handy. He would help with Mommy and we would have each other to comfort. If he were older than I was, I was sure he would be like Daddy. I resented Mommy for being too weak and too selfish to have another baby. She didn't have to have a litter, but she might have considered my need for a companion.

I must have been a lot more tired than I realized, for I didn't hear Alice return. She placed the sandwiches and the milk on the night table beside the bed and sat reading our history assignment while she waited for me to open my eyes. It was twilight by the time I did. The lamp was on.

"What happened?" I asked, scrubbing my cheeks with my palms and sitting up.

"You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you. The milk's a little warm, but the sandwich is all right." "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Go ahead. Eat something. You need it, Melody."

I saw from the empty plate beside her and the empty glass, she had already eaten her snack. I took a deep breath and bit into the sandwich. I was afraid what my stomach might do once solid food dropped into it again. It bubbled and- churned, but the sandwich tasted good, and I finished quickly.

"You were hungry."

"I guess so. Thanks. What time is it?" I gazed at the small grandfather clock on her dresser. "Oh. I better get home."

"You don't have to go. If you want, you could even sleep here tonight."

"No. I should go home," I insisted. "My mother needs me. I'm sorry I wasn't much company."

"That's okay. Are you going to school tomorrow?" "No. I'm not. I'm staying home at least one day," I said firmly.

"I'll bring you all the homework and tell you what we did."

"Thanks." I paused and smiled at her. "Thanks for being my best friend, Alice."

It brought tears to her eyes and she flashed a smile back at me. Then she followed me down the stairs. Her house was so quiet.

"My parents are showering and getting dressed for dinner," she explained. "They always do that after they come home from work. Dinner is very formal in my house."

"That's nice," I said pausing at the front door to gaze back at her beautiful home. "It's nice to sit at the table like a family and all be together. You're lucky."

"No, I'm not," she said sharply and I opened my eyes wide. "We're rich, maybe, and I get the best marks in school, but you're the lucky one."

"What?" I almost laughed. Of all days, to say such a thing, I thought.

"You're the prettiest girl in school and everyone likes you and someday, you'll be happier than anyone."

I shook my head as if she had just said the dumbest thing, but she didn't soften her determined expression.

"You will."

"Alice," we heard coming from upstairs. It was her mother. "Did you bring food upstairs?"

"I'd better go," I said quickly. "Thanks."

"See you tomorrow," she mumbled, and closed the door. Somehow, I don't know how, I left feeling more sorry for her than I did for myself.

When I returned to the trailer, Archie Marlin's car was gone. It was dark inside with only a small lamp on in the living room. The glasses and nearly empty bottle of gin were still on the coffee table. I gazed around, listened, and then walked softly down the corridor to Mommy's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so I peeked through the opening and saw her sprawled on her stomach. Her robe was up around the backs of her knees and her arm dangled over the side of the bed.

I walked in and gazed at her face. She was breathing heavily through her mouth and was in a deep sleep. I covered her with the blanket and then left to clean up the trailer. Just before I was about to go to bed myself, there was a gentle knock on the door. It was Mama Arlene.