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Miz Millicent, then sat in the back row, Uncle standing, as all the chairs were taken. I was pleased with this turnout.
    When everyone was seated, I flounced up on that porch and announced loudly, “Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all—to the greatest show in False River! Starring me and Claudie Maytubby, who arranged all the dancing.”
    Then I looked over toward Mama’s house, just to be sure, and was grateful to the core there was no sign of her. The last thing I needed was her stumbling over here in her boa and high heels, creating a scene.
    “I’m pleased to present us both in our opening number, ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.’ ” With that, we snatched up our make-believe microphones, which made some laugh, and launched into our number.
    “ ‘Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough … to keep me away from yooooou …’ ”
    On that wood porch, we gyrated and jerked our hips and our thumbs like we were looking to hitchhike clear to Jackson. Everyone clapped, except Miz Millicent.
    “Now,” I said when we were catching our breath. “We’re gonnadance while Miss Maytubby here sings ‘Johnny Jump.’ ” And with that, we fell into swoops and dives and swan-arm gyrations, the great finale being Claudie bending over and me climbing on her ass. My bare feet wiggled up to her shoulders and she held on to my legs. We’d done this stunt a half-hundred times.
    But it was then I lifted my eyes and saw my auntie. She’d grown pale of face, clutching air with her hands, and nearly turned over her chair. I lost my balance some, catching before I toppled, and shot a glance toward Mama’s, but she wasn’t outside. It wasn’t that. Auntie was up now, her hand covering her mouth, backing away, Uncle picking up her chair, taking her by the shoulders.
    “Jerusha,” I heard him say. “Jerusha—”
    Miss Shookie, who sat with Bitsy beside her, wagged her head and said, “Uh-uh-uh.”
    With the flat of her hand, Auntie slapped at Uncle, made for the side of the house, and was gone around the corner. Claudie, however, had taken her microphone and was announcing her own next number.
    The lemonade, and some sugar cookies Auntie had made, were on the domino table under the willow. Everybody ate standing and went off home, and things would have been fine, except they weren’t. Miss Shookie never said another word. She and Bitsy just got in their Chevy and drove away. In silence, Uncle took all the Maytubbys home. Claudie had a fine, flushed look to her face. I had taken those nickels and divided them evenly—five for her, five for me. The price of the lemons had come out of my sock.
    I went straight to bed. I couldn’t bear to question what had happened to Auntie. Whatever it was, I was sure it was my fault.

8
    I t was my birthday, and I wanted only to spend time with Claudie, but nothing could pry her loose from her sister, and anyway, her time was limited. Both girls went to first grade half a day. I, however, was turning six late and would not go to school for another year.
    I envied the Maytubbys their big family and the way they all stuck up for one another, with the exception, of course, of Denver’s new wife. But I was jealous of more than strength among the siblings—at one time Claudie had known her daddy .
    It was with downright stubbornness that I persuaded Claudie to leave Plain Genie long enough to join us for my birthday dinner. No matter that it rained. I took Auntie’s umbrella and went to fetch her, the two of us dancing back, jumping puddles and cowering beneath lightning, then screaming at the great claps of thunder.
    In addition to it being a special day, I needed Claudie’s help. I had a plan, and after dinner I would share it with her. It was a great secret and could not involve Plain Genie, who was weak and trembly and prone to tears. I was going to ask Claudie to go down the road with me to spy on the prison. I’d heard terribletales of the folks who