Chapter 9

IT WAS ALMOST six-thirty when I got home. The rumble was set for seven, so I was late for

supper, as

usual. I always come in late. I forget what time it is. Darry had cooked dinner: baked chicken

and potatoes

and corn--- two chickens because all three of us eat like horses. Especially Darry. But although I

love

baked chicken, I could hardly swallow any. I swallowed five aspirins, though, when Darry and

Soda

weren't looking.