"Nine," said the preacher. "She drank. She drank beer. And whiskey.
And wine. Sometimes, she couldn't stop drinking. And that made me and
your mama fight quite a bit. Number ten," he said with a long sigh,
"number ten, is that your mama loved you. She loved you very much."
"But she left me," I told him.
"She left us," said the preacher softly. I could see him pulling
his old turtle head back into his stupid turtle shell. "She packed her
bags and left us, and she didn't leave one thing behind."
"Okay," I said. I got up off the couch. Winn-Dixie hopped off, too.
"Thank you for telling me," I said.
I went right back to my room and wrote down all ten things that the
preacher had told me. I wrote them down just the way he said them to
me so that I wouldn't forget them, and then I read them out loud to
Winn-Dixie until I had them memorized. I wanted to know those ten
things inside and out. That way, if my mama ever came back, I could
recognize her, and I would be able to grab her and hold on to her
tight and not let her get away from me again. ...
A Man Called Intrepid author dies aged 89(Dec 03 2013) William Stevenson, a journalist and author who drew on his close ties with intelligence sources to write two best-selling books in the 1970s, A Man Called...