The Fence My Father Built Read Online Free PDF Page B

like mine and held plenty of secrets. That made two of us, I thought. Only I would probably never know what his secrets were.
    I held my breath then, thinking for one silly moment that I would hear him whispering to me, explaining how he wanted to rescue me all along. But the only sounds came from Aunt Lutie, rattling the dishes. Suddenly, all I knew for sure was that I could use a shower and some sleep.
    Tiny and the kids trooped in then. Tru was starved as usual, and Nova kept silent and clung to the fringes of the room. My uncle occupied a good portion of the living space, so I understood. Perhaps big and tall men weren’t meant to fit in subcompact cars or cracker-box trailer homes.
    “Oh, my little Pearl, some of that tea would be nice,” Tiny said, smiling that same infectious grin. I hadn’t smiled much lately, but before I knew it the edges of my mouth curled up too. It felt as soothing as the tea. Tiny poured his from the china cup into a tall plastic tumbler and filled it with ice.
    “Where's the TV?” Truman said, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. The kid had never been inside a home without cable before.
    “We can’t get much out here,” Tiny said, jiggling his tea so the ice clinked dully against the plastic tumbler. He sat on the couch, and it sagged nearly to the floor under his weight. “The hill behind the creek blocks most of the reception. After that last time when Jim chewed the cord, well, I just never got around to fixing it.”
    Nova sat in the corner on a kitchen chair with a broken rung. “Couldn’t you just get satellite?” Her voice still had an edge of attitude. She picked at her dark blue fingernails, wisely avoiding my gaze.
    “Hallelujah, sure. The Clackmans over at the Lazy P Ranch got one last year,” Lutie responded, eyeing Nova, but not backing down. “They’ve got to be mucho expensive, though. People like us got to save up.”
    “Man, I’d sure love one of them dishes,” Tiny said, nudging Tru with his elbow. “Two hundred channels and HBO too.”
    “Showtime's better,” Tru said, and they both nodded. “You surf the Net?”
    Uncle Tiny looked puzzled. “No,” he said, “we’re on a fixed income.”
    Nova smirked. “He means the Internet, not TV.”
    “We know all about it,” Lutie broke in. “But I guess we’d need a computer.”
    “Truman brought his Mac,” I said, hoping we could get into friendlier conversation soon. “Tru's kind of a computer nut.”
    “Don’t you mean computer nerd ?” Nova teased. I shot her “The Look.” My hands strangled each other, and my left eye twitched like mad.
    “Nova, could you help me bring in some of the stuff from the van?” I said this so sweetly even Lutie raised an eyebrow. My daughter let out one of those loud sighs and flounced through the flimsy aluminum door, slamming it on her way out.
    I followed her to the far side of the van. “Is it too much to ask you to be civil? I know you’re unhappy. This isn’t my idea of paradise, either.”
    “We have to go back to Portland.”
    I tried to make eye contact with my daughter. “Give it a few weeks, will you? I don’t plan to stay. But Lutie is my aunt, after all. I think I should try to get my dad's affairs straightened out.”
    “Why do we have to suffer?” Nova's brows scrunched together. “I mean, why can’t Tru and I spend the summer with Dad in Portland? I’m already bored out of my skull.” She fingered the little tufts of hair next to her ear, crouching against the van as if she was ready to crawl beneath it.
    “If you’ll remember,” I said, “Your dad is too busy.” I didn’t add that he was busy with Victoria.
    She stared at me. I could practically see her mind processing the odds, weighing her options. She bit her lower lip and sighed again, this time the kind that concedes defeat.
    “Fine,” she said, but her expression suddenly softened; her jaw got that hangdog look. “How could you? They live in a