“Maybe a little, on the road. Git your back bent, Pa.”
Pa slipped into the water and stood waiting. Ma helped Rose of Sharon down from the platform and steadied her across the car. Pa took her in his arms, held her as high as he could, and pushed his way carefully through the deep water, around the car, and to the highway. He set her down on her feet and held onto her. Uncle John carried Ruthie and followed. Ma slid down into the water, and for a moment her skirts billowed out around her.
“Winfiel’, set on my shoulder. Al—we’ll come back soon’s the water’s down. Al—” She paused. “If—if Tom comes—tell him we’ll be back. Tell him be careful. Winfiel’! Climb on my shoulder—there! Now, keep your feet still.” She staggered off through the breast-high water. At the highway embankment they helped her up and lifted Winfield from her shoulder.
They stood on the highway and looked back over the sheet of water, the dark red blocks of the cars, the trucks and automobiles deep in the slowly moving water. And as they stood, a little misting rain began to fall.
“We got to git along,” Ma said. “Rosasharn, you feel like you could walk?”
“Kinda dizzy,” the girl said. “Feel like I been beat.”
Pa complained, “Now we’re a-goin’, where we goin’?”
“I dunno. Come on, give your han’ to Rosasharn.” Ma took the girl’s right arm to steady her, and Pa her left. “Goin’ someplace where it’s dry. Got to. You fellas ain’t had dry clothes on for two days.” They moved slowly along the highway. They could hear the rushing of the water in the stream beside the road. Ruthie and Winfield marched together, splashing their feet against the road. They went slowly along the road. The sky grew darker and the rain thickened. No traffic moved along the highway.
“We got to hurry,” Ma said. “If this here girl gits good an’ wetI don’t know what’ll happen to her.”
“You ain’t said where-at we’re a-hurryin’ to,” Pa reminded her sarcastically.