GIRLS DON'T SPIT
Okay, I'll tell you a secret, Sherry might've said at a gathering.
"When they had the reunion?"
No, no, this was way back in the ancient days when the parents were growing up and I'm only surmising, you know, maybe how things went as the kids were trying to figure things out.
As best they could.
Right, as best they could.
"He's got Silver Wings," Sherry practically shouted. "Okay?! Now you think of one. It's like trading baseball cards, but it's secrets. That's how we make stories."
"And we're talking about Daddies?" Gail really was younger.
And Paula?
And Paula is the baby, so she wouldn't have been outside. She was a little kid compared to them.
Johnny wanted to go next.
So Sherry went again.
Maybe the June bugs were just coming out.
They'd walked just a little ways, away, but not too far.
Watching out for snakes.
And...
Johnny would've been really BRAVE and showed them...it was just shadows the barn makes not monsters. Which Sherry already knew that, but let him think he was smarter than her.
"His hands are so big...gigantic really...that...if somebody was going to crochet him some mittens, they'd have to be bigger than the size of the Michigan mitt."
"Whoa," Johnny wanted to remember that visit.
The sounds of crickets.
"My Daddy plays guitar!"
"That's a GOOD one Gail."
The sounds and smells of walking around the big farm machinery, quiet, but "you never know" about anything, like that, it might come alive.
Probably Johnny might've hocked a spit at the wheels or the rims...Target Practice.
"Girls DON'T SPIT," Betty and Pearl would've been saying after that visit.
"Let's make a packed," the kids would've agreed before its conclusion.
It was like that, back in those days.
"I WON'T forget," Gail would've promised offering up a tiny pinky finger for the ritual.
"Me either," Mama promised.
"Me three," they'd a-sweared.
This would've happened after the sisters, Gail and Sherry might've "fought" over whose boyfriend their brother--Johnny--was going to be.
Somebody must've had a "serious talk." Not about the birds and the bees exactly, but about why people can't find "going steady" or "getting married" amongst kinfolk even when everything is soooooo cute.
"What's that mean?" They all would've been wanting to know to the sounding harsh henpecking.
Might've been time for pie and coffee then.
