Chapter 26: Just Trying to Help
The afternoon passes in a blur. I work hard to keep my mind blank, my heart empty—I concentrate on filling boxes with old books and trinkets and clothes, I pile up bags with broken toys and scratched records and torn magazines that should have been thrown away years ago. If there’s anything I want to take home to remind me of Aunt Evie and all the times I spent at Sugar Creek, I’m quite sure it will be in this back room, not in one of the overflowing bedrooms upstairs. This is the room where as a child I came to find something to play with on rainy days, the room full of costumes we could wear year round, a place full of books and music and magazines, coloring books and sketch pads, toys and knickknacks and everything under the sun, it all wound up back her
