Monroe glanced up at her, obviously wondering the same thing.

Mary Jo shrugged. "We can everything. Of course, eggs don't need frigerated."

Monroe watched her a moment. "What about the milk? You have a cow."

"Ma cans it too. Then we set it down in cool water in the cellar, where the butter is."

Joe looked at Monroe as if he thought they were trying to pull something over on him. "It's hard to believe anyone in the United States lives like that anymore."

This was why they rarely told anyone about how they lived. It was as if they were a freak show.

Monroe handed a paper plate to Billy Ray and looked at Mary Jo as he spoke. "I admire your tenacity."

She shrugged. "We'd have 'lectric and water if we could afford it. Cookin' on that wood stove gets hot in the summer, but it's nice in the winter."

Monroe looked at Billy Ray. "Go ahead and fill your plate and sit at the table." He looked at Tom. "Mary Jo is a Xylophile, so this is probably a painful process for her."

Tom nodded and gave Mary Jo a sympathetic look.

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She frowned. "A what?"

Monroe laughed. "Xylophile - someone who loves forests."

"Oh." That would include Monroe and his crew as well - for different reasons. As for being a painful process, it wasn't. Well, only because of her conscience. They weren't cutting down all the good trees, though. In fact, where the animals were concerned, a dead tree often made a better home. Far more painful was the necessity to cut wood and burn it so that they could live. But what could a person do about it - freeze?

The next time Ma had visitors while Mary Jo and Billy Ray were gone, it wasn't the police. It wasn't anyone she recognized, either. It was the day before they expected Pa home.

The occupants of the late model Buick were a tall lean man and a slender woman who looked like she had lots of money. If they were there to ask about the trees or to buy the place, she'd send them on their way in a hurry.

When she answered the door, the man smiled at her. "I'm Del Monroe and this is Aslin Monroe."

Ma studied them for a moment. She could see some resemblance to Monroe. "Are you Barrett's parents?"

The man chuckled. "No. I'm his uncle and this is my sister - his mother." He paused a moment. "Mrs. Monroe would like to talk to you. Do you have a moment - or is this a bad time?"




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