“Have you ever read the Bible, ma’am?” he asked.
“Oh, yes—lots. Every night before I go to bed I read a chapter.”
“That’s right, ma’am—that’s right,” approved Mr. Daisy. “Now next time you read First Chronicles, sixth chapter. Then you’ll know all about the begatters. Here’s the way she runs:
“‘And the children of Amram; Aaron and Moses and Miriam. The sons of Aaron; Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar. Eleazar begat Phinehas; Phinehas begat Abishua.’
“Phinehas—that’s me. Phinehas begat Abishua. Now, ma’am, did you ever hear tell o’ Wing o’ the Crow?”
“No, indeed. Tell me.”
“Well, she’s the daughter of a one-winged gypo man called Jeddo the Crow. She’s just about your age—maybe a leetle older—but black, ma’am—black as tar.”
“Oh! Mercy!”
“Whoa! Not all over! You don’t savvy. Just her hair and eyes. Well, now, you live over there, don’t you?”
He pointed over the shimmering desert to the low adobe ranch house, swimming hazily in a yellow mirage.