"Margaret would have a good life with us. We could give her everything you cannot. With so many other children."

Mrs. Patton stood over us. She wore a large hat and a pair of white gloves. She squinted in the sun, and her lips were held tight together. My mother and I were kneeling in the dirt of our garden, planting tomatoes. My mother's rough hands dug into the brown earth. She did not look up at Mrs. Patton.

My brothers and sisters were scattered throughout the yard: Grace in the apple tree, Roger and Violet running through the yard. Suddenly, they looked like suntanned monkeys to me.

Mr. and Mrs. Patton wanted to adopt Margaret, my older sister, the one with the blond curls that hung in perfect ringlets around her oval porcelain face. She was the one with the shining blue eyes and the manners of a princess. She wasnąt a monkey.

Grandma called her an angel. Grandma sat on the porch swing, chewing tobacco and watching Mrs. Patton with hard eyes. Grandma said that Mrs. Patton's womb was dried up, and she couldn't have babies. That's why she wanted Margaret.

"I know Margaret would have a good life with you and your husband, but she's my baby. I can't give away one of my babies," my mother told Mrs. Patton.

Mrs. Patton snapped her gloved hands together. "Perhaps we can talk about this after the theatre."

Mrs. Patton left the back yard. I followed her around the house. Margaret waited in the car with Mr. Patton. Margaret wore a new blue dress with a matching hat and gloves. The Pattons had brought it for her. Today, the Pattons were taking Margaret to the theatre in Johnstown. A flood had damaged the theatre, but now it was reopening. Margaret waved to us from the back seat of the Pattons' car as it drove away.

Later, we sat in the dark like wild animals. Roger had captured some lightning bugs in a jar but lost them when he thought he saw a bat. He dropped the jar onto the wet grass and ran to sit on my Grandma's lap. Violet sat on my mother's lap. She still sucked her thumb, and it made a soft kissing sound in the dark.

"The seats were red and soft velvet like sitting on a cloud. There were gold and pink angels painted on the ceiling. The woman on the stage wore a long blue dress and sang so beautiful. Mr. Patton brought me a bag of peanuts, and they were so salty that I had to have a glass of water."

I listened to Margaret's voice and imagined myself in those soft chairs and tasted those salty peanuts. I saw the new theatre and all the people on the street. I loved the sound of Margaret's voice on those warm nights. Pictured myself in her new dresses riding in the Pattons' shiny car living in a different world. I lived for Margaret's stories and the taste of peppermint on my tongue. Hard sticky candy placed in my outstretched hand and the sound of sucking in the warm darkness.

The Pattons owned a store. I had been there. There were jars of multi-colored candies: yellows, pinks, whites, and reds. I was not allowed to touch them. I imagined Margaret's ivory hand reaching into those jars being allowed to bring home a piece of candy for each of us. Roger loved butterscotch; I wanted peppermint. I held it on my tongue as long as possible letting it melt. Not wanting it to disappear.

Mrs. Patton still wanted to adopt Margaret. I heard her in the doorway whispering to my mother. "She would have a good education, her own room."

I imagined Margaret's new room with pink and gold angels and a red velvet bed. My oldest brother, Clayton started chewing tobacco with Grandma. He didn't want the candy anymore. "No, thank you, Margaret Patton," he would say.

My mother didn't want to part with her babies. Margaret, Grace, and I slept in the same bed. My cheeks rested on Margaret's curls; my knees in Grace's stomach. Then Margaret got pale and hot. When she started to cough, Grace and I were told to sleep in Grandma's bed.

"Whooping cough, polio, tuberculosis, typhoid fever." Words whispered in doorways and hallways. "Typhoid fever" was the final whisper.

"Probably got it in Johnstown. The water was still bad from the flood." They had named it, pinned down the cause.

From the bedroom doorway, I watched my mother chew bread into a white sticky pulp and place it into Margaret's fevered mouth trying to keep her alive.

Once, the Pattons came to visit. Mr. Patton gave us a piece of candy. Mrs. Patton held a handkerchief over her mouth.

My mother shook me awake. Her eyes were black in the morning darkness. "Anna, go and get the preacher. Margaret isn't baptized, and she won't get into heaven." I ran to the preacher's house. In the dim light with his gray hair standing up and matted from sleep, he baptized Margaret, her breathing coming in long moaning gasps.

Grace, Roger, and I hid in the apple tree when they took her away. Grandma cried loudly. My mother said nothing.

Sometimes, I saw the Pattons driving by in their shiny car. Lily Stone was with them now. Once after Margaret died, I went to their store. Mr. Patton smiled at me. I put a penny on the counter and dipped my tan, dirty hand into the large glass jar filled with peppermint. Mr. Patton gave the penny back to me.

Lily sat behind the counter with Mrs. Patton. She wore a new blue dress with a matching hat and gloves. I put the penny back on the counter and walked outside. I held the peppermint on my tongue until it disappeared.