“Well—couldn’ we—of did nothin’?”
Ma’s lips were stiff and white. “No. They was on’y one thing to do—ever—an’ we done it.”
“We worked till we dropped, an’ a tree—Rain’s lettin’ up some.”
Ma looked at the ceiling, and then down again. Pa went on, compelled to talk. “I dunno how high she’ll rise. Might flood the car.”
“I know.”
“You know ever’thing.”
She was silent, and the cardboard moved slowly back and forth.
“Did we slip up?” he pleaded. “Is they anything we could of did?”
Ma looked at him strangely. Her white lips smiled in a dreaming compassion. “Don’t take no blame. Hush! It’ll be awright. They’s changes—all over.”
“Maybe the water—maybe we’ll have to go.”