He heard Ruth’s energetic footsteps on the porch. Ruth was often the first to wake in the mornings. Though sometimes Reese would beat her to it. Most mornings, young Ruth would wander onto the porch, half-awake, and sit on Paul’s lap and watch the sun lift itself above the ground and wake up the world. And he would touch her shock of red hair—which was Paul’s favorite thing in the world.

Ruth galloped down the steps of the ugly house. She was all hair. Paul greeted her, but she was too sleepy to answer.

“What’re you doing up so early?” he said.

Ruth rubbed her eyes. She crawled into Paul’s lap and rested her head against his chest. If there was a better feeling in the world, Paul didn’t care to know what it was.

She watched the world get brighter with him. The sun was becoming warmer every second.

“Louisville was fussing in her sleep,” said Ruth. “Can’t sleep with all that noise. I wish she’d sleep outside with you.”

“She’s old and deaf, baby. Her bones are sore. She can’t help all that whimpering.”

“I know, but it’s hard to sleep.”

“Oh, you be sweet to my old girl.”

“How old is Louisville?”

“Pushing nineteen.”

“That’s old in dog years, right?”

“That’s ancient.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You sure know a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“In a dog’s world, nineteen’s a record.”

“Are you older than nineteen?”

“Not by much.”

“What will Louisville be like when she’s your age?”

“I expect Lou will be sitting next to the Lord by then, the lucky girl.”

Paul ran his fingers through her red curls. Her hair was thick and fell over her shoulders. She was the prettiest child he’d ever seen.

“Are we really at war?” said Ruth.

“You and me ain’t, but the rest of the world is.”

They watched the sun climb. He rubbed her head—more for his satisfaction than for hers. This know-it-all girl was the most important thing he ever did with himself. Sometimes he looked at the stars at night and wondered if this was the reason he was created. For her.

He said in a whisper, “Almost time to eat. You want me to show you how to stamp biscuits with an upside-down glass? It’s sorta fun.”

But there was no answer. Her eyes were shut. She slept with her cheek against his chest.

Their lives weren’t beautiful. In fact, their lives were hard. And whenever they settled into a routine, along came something that changed it. They always seemed to be a few meals away from starvation, and they seemed to have less each month than they had the month before. But life doesn’t have to be beautiful to be pretty, Paul thought. All it needs is red hair.

“I love you, sweetie,” said Paul.

“I know,” she whispered.

Thirty-Three
Girls into Ladies