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"
It
’
s
my
father
,
"
said
John
.
"
He
’
s
got
a
job
in
Milwaukee
.
We
weren
’
t
sure
until
today
.
.
.
"
"
My
gosh
,
here
it
is
with
the
Baptist
picnic
next
week
and
the
big
carnival
Labor
Day
and
Halloween
—
can
’
t
your
dad
wait
till
then
?
"
John
shook
his
head
.
"
Good
grief
!
"
said
Douglas
.
"
Let
me
sit
down
!
"
They
sat
under
an
old
oak
tree
on
the
side
of
the
hill
looking
back
at
town
,
and
the
sun
made
large
trembling
shadows
around
them
;
it
was
cool
as
a
cave
in
under
the
tree
.
Out
beyond
,
in
sunlight
,
the
town
was
painted
with
heat
,
the
windows
all
gaping
.
Douglas
wanted
to
run
back
in
there
where
the
town
,
by
its
very
weight
,
its
houses
,
their
bulk
,
might
enclose
and
prevent
John
’
s
ever
getting
up
and
running
off
.
"
But
we
’
re
friends
,
"
Douglas
said
helplessly
.
"
We
always
will
be
,
"
said
John
.
"
You
’
ll
come
back
to
visit
every
week
or
so
,
won
’
t
you
?
"
"
Dad
says
only
once
or
twice
a
year
.
It
’
s
eighty
miles
.
"
