breathe.
I stumbled back and ran out of the room, falling
to the floor by the sofa. The motor home's engine was
still running. I felt my stomach twist, and suddenly,
almost without any warning at all. I began to heave. I
crumbled on my side and lay there, nearly traumatized
by my own hysteria. Finally, it eased. and I pulled
myself to my feet, hovering and trembling. I cleaned
up my mess quickly and then drank a cold glass of
water.
This can't be happening It just can't be
happening I chanted to myself, but the only sound
being the sound of the engine brought home the
reality of the dead who don't speak. Uncle Palaver
was gone. I was not only alone. I was lost, lost in so
many ways.
I took deep breaths, wiped my face with a cold
wash cloth, and returned to the driver's seat. For a
while, I just sat there staring out at the fields, the
brush, and the trees on both sides of the broken road. I
was still afraid of attempting to turn the motor home
around. It was tricky with my car hitched behind it. so
I started forward. I hadn't noticed, but the clouds that
had been blending and turning darker had changed the
sky to completely overcast. Rain was coming, and
soon. I was nervous enough driving this big vehicle in
good weather.
I drove at least another two miles, and still there
was no place to make an easy turn, Then I came
around a long, winding curve and saw what looked