We travelled around the southern continent on a tented wagon. There were four wagons in our train and a total of seventeen people. We didn't even have...a name for ourselves, really; we were just "the people." There were nine cities we visited on our course, the same course, year after year. My father was a merchant trader and was very good at picking out what one city had that the next one down the line would need, even after a year's absence. My mother, with her deep red skin, slanted eyes and. She sniffed, swallowed and wrote, "Dearest Billy" and then stopped, balled up the sheet of well-laid paper and threw it across the room. The cat on her bed lifted one ear and opened one eye. She dipped her pen again, wiped the tip carefully and wrote, "Sir," and then she stopped, bit her lip, took a deep breath and crushed that sheet in her fist and tossed it over her shoulder. She blotted her third try and dropped that to the floor. On the next attempt she wrote: "Private Fields - I received. More

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