i used to hide in Granny's flowers from Granddaddy. He knew i hid there, but i was so tiny and her flowers so lush that he couldn't find me. He would drink until he got to a drunken rage and then start tearing up her flowers. And, i would whisper my prayer that she would hear. Sometimes she would. Sometimes she would come out of the house, dragging her weight behind her walker with her cane in the basket on the front of it. "Bobby! You son of a bitch! Are you tearing up my flowers again?" And, while they fought i would have time to slip around the side of the house and into Granny's bed. But, sometimes she was either too sick to fight with him about it, or too knocked out by her medication to hear.
