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He kicked them aside and following the track cattle had made when heading to the watering hole. Angry in frustration he turned back after finding no sign of the woman and was about to open the door of the Chevy when he heard someone say, ‘Oh Frankie.’ Before he could react he was felled by a blow to the head. Although Frank was the runt of the family, Kate only just managed to lift him into the cab. She threw the underwear in after him and from a sack she was carrying tipped six empty beer bottles on to the floor of the vehicle and then drove quickly to the steep rise above the shallow watering hole. ‘Bye Frankie,’ she called, hoping he wouldn’t be killed. She accelerated the vehicle slowly and jumped out, leaving the slope to do the rest. ‘Oh God,’ she called, watching the vehicle slew three-quarters the way down and roll over and over into the water. She ran down well wide of the path the vehicle had taken and leaped over the marshy edge on to the gravel to avoid leaving. We would play baseball all morning, go home for lunch, then, come back and continue into the early afternoon until it got too hot. Afterward, we would sit at one of the picnic tables under an old shade tree relaxing, talking sports, maybe goofing on some of the little kids that dared to pass by; then go home for supper. After supper, it was back to the park for an evening of basketball; then back home when it got dark. Tough life, right?Life, for me, changed forever one warm evening in July of that year. The day had started out like most other sunny days; we had played baseball all morning, but when the game broke up at lunch time no one wanted to continue later. It was just too dam hot and humid. For me it was a perfect day to stay at home, in the breeze generated by our big window air conditioner and relax. I listened to some music on my transistor radio, just killing time until dinner. After dinner, I walked back over to the park, sat on the merry-go-round, which served as.
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