“When I finally get there, his dogs run out to me, but they know me once they get close enough. And I smell like a mule and other things probably, but still they are all tails wagging. Uncle John's truck is not here. So Pat is not here. And Shaun's fate is anyone's guess. I leave before I'm discovered. I tell those dogs to go home, and they do. The pistol is in my good hand. If any more trouble comes for me, I won't be whistling Dixie. I near home and I pass Clannan Lane in this ...strange way, moving past my home like a ghost of myself, who I was just this morning when I got up when I came home from school and did chores has changed I think. I know. This place is my home where I lay at night listening to the groaning house, the creaking house and the wind rustling my trees. Mine. Dad says this is our Land of Canaan, our share of the Promised Land that we must fight every day to inherit.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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