Once Upon a River by Bonnie Jo Campbell

Author:Bonnie Jo Campbell [Campbell, Bonnie Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Death, Survival, Survival Skills, Literary, Coming of Age, Teenage Girls, Voyages and Travels, Bildungsromans, Fathers, Fathers - Death, River Life
ISBN: 9780007443369
Google: LgbCgcdKktUC
Amazon: 0393079899
Barnesnoble: 0393079899
Publisher: Fourth Estate
Published: 2011-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

• Chapter Fourteen •

Back at the marijuana house, Margo devoured Joanna’s bread with jam and wiped the jam jar clean. As kids, Margo and Junior used to pile the chunky peach preserves on their toast as thick as pie filling. The food fired something up in her, and it took her a long time to fall asleep. The following morning was hazy, and Margo slept late. She wanted more bread and jam so powerfully that she couldn’t bring herself to eat the vegetables she’d collected and so went hungry. While she packed up all her things, she was feeling dopey, and because of the hazy sky she couldn’t get a sense of what time it was. She parked her boat downstream from the Murray house, by the shed, and snuck up close enough to lie on her belly and spy. She saw Joanna at the window over the kitchen sink. After about twenty minutes, Joanna stepped outside, wiped her hands on her apron, and searched the horizon. Margo was happy to know that Joanna was looking for her. Soon she would stand up, walk to the house, and rest the Annie Oakley Marlin in the rack on the porch, but for just a little longer she needed to observe this place, to let it sink in that she was returning home, at least for a visit. Joanna tilted her head as though hearing something, the baby crying perhaps, and she hurried back inside. Margo knew how badly Joanna needed her help, so maybe she would find a way to bring Margo back to the family. After school, Margo would come home to babysit and care for the Down’s baby. Margo would help cook bread and pies for the Murray men and boys, and Joanna could teach her to cook soups and stews this winter, ones Margo hadn’t yet attempted. Joanna knew how to cook everything. Maybe Margo could learn from Uncle Hank how to smoke pork and make bacon.

She lay for a long time in the cool, damp grass, waiting for another glimpse of Joanna. If Joanna went out to the overgrown garden to pick tomatoes, Margo would join her there and pick beside her. After a while Margo noticed the front of her shirt was soaked from the grass. She sat up and aimed her rifle at the kitchen door. She thought she smelled cinnamon across the distance, maybe from a pie or tomorrow’s cinnamon bread. She let her rifle lie in her lap. This was the time of year Joanna might be making more peach jam. Apples would be ripe soon, the golden delicious for eating and the tart Jonathans for making pies. Some years Joanna made apple butter, cooking the fruits down until they had a smoky, caramel flavor and then adding spices. Margo had never tired of peeling apples in the Murray kitchen.

Margo would always have enough to eat if she could return to the Murrays’, and she would not be lonely for people. Too bad there would be no Junior to crack jokes and commiserate with, no dogs to pet.

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