Melody (Logan 1)

tulips, and sprawling lilac bushes. It seemed like two

different worlds. Cary said there was often two kinds

of weather. It could be stormy on the east with the sun

shining brightly on the west.

Perhaps the differences in the land explained

the differences in the people, I thought, some hard,

frugal, with religious ideas carved in stone; other

carefree, impulsive, jolly, and hungry for fun and

excitement. Some lived to work and some worked just

enough to live.

At night the little town was exciting, especially

with all the people, the music from the bars and

restaurants, the carloads of tourists yelling to each

other, the crowds down at the dock. My eyes went

everywhere. He bought May her frozen custard and

asked me if I wanted one, too. I did. He got himself

one as well.

May wanted to go to the dock and watch the

deep-sea fishermen try to entice the tourists to hire

them. I had never been in a real tourist town at night

before, and was taken with all the lights, and the way

store owners and desert tour operators barked at the

people, tempting, cajoling, practically begging for

their business.

"I hate those desert tours," Cary remarked when

a jeep load rolled by. "Once, a couple of jeeps pulled

up behind our house and the guide pointed to my

mother and Laura, describing them as native

fishermen's women."

"So, that's what your mother is, right?" "She's not a freak for tourists to gape at, no," he