I went to school and told everybody that I was moving to Florida. They didn't believe me. Back then hardly anyone ever moved away. I had been living in the same house since I was four years old. We had swapped our old house to Aunt Johnnie for her land up on the other side of the hill. Daddy built us a house there but he made a mistake and built on another man's land instead of his. Daddy had to buy the lot where our house was from him. Anyway, I was tired of living in the same house, in the same town and wanted to move to Florida. In Florida it never got cold and you could pick oranges off trees right in your back yard. I also wanted to see the big pink birds with long legs and black bills.
I was so disappointed when Mama wrote that Daddy couldn't find a job and that they were coming home. I went out and sat on the edge of the back porch. Our old hound dog named Red came and laid his head in my lap and looked up at me with sad eyes. Maybe he had been looking forward to moving too.
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