“I know. Just trying to help you make sense about not being able to suddenly change someone’s beliefs if that’s all they’ve ever known.”

“God should have just made us all white or black or . . . purple. Sure would be easier if we all looked the same.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being different. The problem is people who don’t accept that.” Foxy screwed the lid onto the jar, eyes flicking to Pa as he went to roll to his side. Flinching in his sleep, he resettled and stayed on his belly.

“You got anything that Pa could take to maybe fix whatever is broken on his inside?” I whispered once he returned to snoring.

“That . . . It ain’t my place.” Foxy quickly whispered her excuse as she stood and pointed to the figure lingering by the door. “My Jinx is gonna stay in here with Dave for the night. Go on to bed now.” With that she knocked the dust off the seat of her pants and started out of the barn.

“No. It’s my place to tend to him. Thanks just the same, Jinx.” My tone was sharp with enough irritation to have Foxy glancing over her shoulder but not slowing her stride.

This would be my first attempt at building a barrier between us Fosters and everyone else. The barrier was rickety at first when I’d become overwhelmed to the point of feebly reaching out for help, but with each rebuild it eventually became ironclad.

Chapter 3: AN ATHEIST BELIEVER

November 1982

Tobacco seasons had a trusted pattern —prep, plant, harvest, repeat. There was comfort in this pattern. One that was dependable. As I watched the cringeworthy show of Pa preaching while standing on top of the front pew, there was no denying another dependable pattern. One in which no comfort could be found. The highs reminded me of brilliantly sunny days jacked up on speed. So bright and glaring, it was too overwhelming to take in directly. Then the pattern would shift into a treacherous dormancy where everything became shrouded in gloom and dread.

For the most part, we’d had normal, somewhat-comfortable days for more than a year, ever since Foxy and Jinx moved in. It would have been easy to think Pa was finally settling down, but I was never quite able to convince myself of that possible outcome. As sure as the tobacco seasons rolled around, here we were rolling around to another one of Pa’s jacked-up spells. And it was one of the unchangeable truths of our family that the darkness would inevitably follow.