Another part of her thought that maybe Thomas was right. What if she didn’t have enough money to pay for December’s rent? What if January came and they were in the same boat? Where would they go?

You have to do what you have to do.

So they made plans to go over to Uncle Jesse’s house for dinner.

It took about ten minutes until she realized there was no way on God’s green earth that they were going to move there.

Uncle Jesse had two pit bulls that were so crazed they seemed rabid. Their yelping lasted the entire time Lynn and the children were there. Jesse didn’t say much about the dogs, but he would occasionally yell out a curse at them. They were on leashes on opposite sides of a backyard that was littered with garbage and car parts. Lynn wasn’t sure if the dogs were barking at each other or in unison at her. They had cuts and scratches all over their bodies, making her think maybe her brother took them fighting.

Nothing would surprise her about Jesse. Nothing.

But soon she was surprised.

“Wanna see my Gatling gun?” he asked Thomas.

It was before dinner and they were all in the kitchen that smelled of fried chicken and fried okra. Jesse’s two kids were younger than Thomas and Sara. They had only made one appearance before heading back into the family room to watch television. Thomas and Sara stayed in the kitchen, where their uncle Jesse and aunt Susan talked as if they came over all the time, shifting conversation from one random subject to the next.

When Jesse mentioned the gun, Thomas acted like he wasn’t sure what his uncle had said.

“Come on. I’ll show all of you.”

In the backyard, behind the debris of tires and engine parts and car doors and other various pieces belonging to long-lost cars, a leaning woodshed somehow stood. Next to it, under a tarp held down by chunks of firewood and string, an old Volkswagen sat on four cinder blocks.

“First I’ll show you a nice little project I made,” Jesse said.

He led them into the woodshed that appeared more cluttered than the backyard. If Lynn hadn’t grown up with the rotund, balding man with the jeans that kept slipping down, she might have been terrified of going into a woodshed with him. But Jesse was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“I rigged this here up the other day. Take a look.”

Near the top of the doorway was a rattrap next to a good-sized hole in the wall. A string was attached to the trap’s wire and ran along the wood and outside through another opening.

“This ’ere’s gonna surprise someone someday.”

“What is that?” Sara asked as she looked up at the strange creation above them.

“That’s my trap. Someone stole the tires off my Volkswagen not long ago, and I figure they’re gonna come back for the windshield.”

“What’s the mousetrap do?” Lynn asked, afraid to hear the answer but strangely fascinated at the same time.