Deep in the Heart of Me Read Online Free
Author: Diane Munier
of us."
Michael is already moving the picture away. I hope he plans to eat it. I feel Dad's strap, and I'll deserve it. I welcome it even. Anything but standing now, in this place of shame and humiliation and degradation. She turns to put those big brown eyes on me. I make my back straight as I can and clench my jaw. I keep my eyes straight ahead. "I am thinking on injustice. That it starts in a man's own backyard," I say.
I look at Teacher now and swallow. I don't know what's coming next, but I'm as interested as they all seem to be.
"Injustice?" Miss Charlotte says pushing back her chair and getting onto her feet. "And what do you know of injustice young man?"
Well, I am trying to think on that. So I lick my lips. "The…government," I say. I love my country, but I hate my government like all good Americans.
"The government?" she says folding her arms. I know this stance of hers. It means she's ready to dedicate time.
I do not shift. My dad does not. He makes his points with a strong finger tapping the table or the desk of those whose collars have never known sun or chaff.
"There is injustice Miss Charlotte. Round here too, depending who you are."
She sweeps her hand toward me. "Tell us, Mr. Clannan."
"I'm saying…we got desperate times in these United States. Dad says most rare thing left in America is the family farm what with old deals and new deals and give outs and handouts and takeaways."
"And what do you say, Sir?" Her chin is up brows too. I've never inspired so much of her attention. Two years of laying low and now this on my second day back. All because…well, it doesn't help me now to say it, but my eyes flit there for a minute—to Sobe. She is watching me, her hands clasped on her desk over her reader.
"I say we need a co-op run like a business and not some farmwife's takings from eggs and butter," I say. "I go with Dad to the meetings, and I listen. And some of you here," I look at the row of boys same as me, "would do well to do the same.
“We're at the end of a long hard haul, and the family farm is near extinction if things don't change, and we can't have the money needed for saving our farms if we can't organize enough to market our products. It's the wealth of the land feeding us all. That's what it comes down to."
No preacher ever said come to Jesus with more than I just spoke on the co-op. I left this room for a minute, or I thought I was in Washington or something.
"And I don't know what I'm doing in here with so much to be done…writing sentences and apples and…oranges." I'm gathering my things as I say this. I might want to stop myself, but I might not be able to, so I stack my couple of books and my papers and one pencil. I straighten. "I'm done with school, Miss Charlotte. Enjoy that apple." And I walk past Sobe and past Miss Charlotte, who steps back quickly to get out of my way. I walk strong from that room then. I stop in the coatroom and get my cap and my sandwiches. I pull that cap on my head, low, like a gangster or an angry boy. I hear my brothers scrambling to follow me. But I leave that place, and I don't look back.
Chapter 8
They follow me out. "You follow me you're not going back," I say to Joseph, ignoring Ebbie.
Joseph looks confused.
"Think hard," I say ignoring Ebbie. That fluffer is going back in, no question. I don't have Dad's permission to let the girls walk home without one of us. They never have. Anyway, he's too young to quit. Time he grew up some and watched the babies.
"I'm going with you," Joseph says, his eyes that serious way since birth.
"Get back in," I tell Ebbie.
"But…," he says.
"Get in like I said," I repeat. I'm squeezing the sandwiches in my bag.
"You gonna eat those?" Ebbie says noticing my hand.
I fling the bag at him. "Keep an eye on the girls," I say, and I never sounded more like Dad then.
'Keep your eye on the girls,' is all we hear when we're leaving the farm. It's hammered in.
So I take off, and Joseph matches my
Michael is already moving the picture away. I hope he plans to eat it. I feel Dad's strap, and I'll deserve it. I welcome it even. Anything but standing now, in this place of shame and humiliation and degradation. She turns to put those big brown eyes on me. I make my back straight as I can and clench my jaw. I keep my eyes straight ahead. "I am thinking on injustice. That it starts in a man's own backyard," I say.
I look at Teacher now and swallow. I don't know what's coming next, but I'm as interested as they all seem to be.
"Injustice?" Miss Charlotte says pushing back her chair and getting onto her feet. "And what do you know of injustice young man?"
Well, I am trying to think on that. So I lick my lips. "The…government," I say. I love my country, but I hate my government like all good Americans.
"The government?" she says folding her arms. I know this stance of hers. It means she's ready to dedicate time.
I do not shift. My dad does not. He makes his points with a strong finger tapping the table or the desk of those whose collars have never known sun or chaff.
"There is injustice Miss Charlotte. Round here too, depending who you are."
She sweeps her hand toward me. "Tell us, Mr. Clannan."
"I'm saying…we got desperate times in these United States. Dad says most rare thing left in America is the family farm what with old deals and new deals and give outs and handouts and takeaways."
"And what do you say, Sir?" Her chin is up brows too. I've never inspired so much of her attention. Two years of laying low and now this on my second day back. All because…well, it doesn't help me now to say it, but my eyes flit there for a minute—to Sobe. She is watching me, her hands clasped on her desk over her reader.
"I say we need a co-op run like a business and not some farmwife's takings from eggs and butter," I say. "I go with Dad to the meetings, and I listen. And some of you here," I look at the row of boys same as me, "would do well to do the same.
“We're at the end of a long hard haul, and the family farm is near extinction if things don't change, and we can't have the money needed for saving our farms if we can't organize enough to market our products. It's the wealth of the land feeding us all. That's what it comes down to."
No preacher ever said come to Jesus with more than I just spoke on the co-op. I left this room for a minute, or I thought I was in Washington or something.
"And I don't know what I'm doing in here with so much to be done…writing sentences and apples and…oranges." I'm gathering my things as I say this. I might want to stop myself, but I might not be able to, so I stack my couple of books and my papers and one pencil. I straighten. "I'm done with school, Miss Charlotte. Enjoy that apple." And I walk past Sobe and past Miss Charlotte, who steps back quickly to get out of my way. I walk strong from that room then. I stop in the coatroom and get my cap and my sandwiches. I pull that cap on my head, low, like a gangster or an angry boy. I hear my brothers scrambling to follow me. But I leave that place, and I don't look back.
Chapter 8
They follow me out. "You follow me you're not going back," I say to Joseph, ignoring Ebbie.
Joseph looks confused.
"Think hard," I say ignoring Ebbie. That fluffer is going back in, no question. I don't have Dad's permission to let the girls walk home without one of us. They never have. Anyway, he's too young to quit. Time he grew up some and watched the babies.
"I'm going with you," Joseph says, his eyes that serious way since birth.
"Get back in," I tell Ebbie.
"But…," he says.
"Get in like I said," I repeat. I'm squeezing the sandwiches in my bag.
"You gonna eat those?" Ebbie says noticing my hand.
I fling the bag at him. "Keep an eye on the girls," I say, and I never sounded more like Dad then.
'Keep your eye on the girls,' is all we hear when we're leaving the farm. It's hammered in.
So I take off, and Joseph matches my
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