Daddy took the jug inside to the kitchen sink to wash off the grease. I sat in the living room with everyone else. After Daddy finished cleaning his hands, he set the jug, which still had two inches of fuel, on the floor right beside the water jugs. He walked into the living room and took his seat.
“Goddammit,” Daddy screamed. “Get everyone to the car!” Daddy rushed out the front door, and we followed. We pulled into the emergency room entrance at DeKalb General, and Daddy rushed in to tell them what happened. Folks came running out and took Dinky from Mama’s arms and carried her inside. I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer. But my mind instinctively played out the worst-case scenarios over and over. I wondered how life would be if she didn’t make it. We were all kind of fond of her, but she was not entirely one of us, at least not yet. The bond between me and my two older sisters was akin to that of the brotherly commitment of soldiers in a war. We had also been through hell and had survived—so far at least—but I wasn’t sure how.
It was a familiar scene, and what followed next was all too familiar also. Neenah started crying right away. She did this at the mere possibility of a whipping, and Daddy could never bring himself to whip her with tears running down from those big brown eyes. That old softie.“Neenah, go to your room.”