I ran away a lot. Unlike Dad, I never got far.
Once I hid in a field till a thunderclap rattled me home. Mom was having one of her spells, hadn’t noticed I was gone.
Another time I stepped on a nail on our porch and hopped back inside. My bloody sock snapped Mom out of it for awhile. She cleaned and kissed my wound. We boiled hot dogs till they fattened and split. That afternoon Mom taught me to play poker.
It was a good day. The day I learned to bluff. And the value of a little pain.
