Free The Future Homemakers of America by Laurie Graham

and his boy. Crystal followed, of course, getting under their feet, determined to be one of the gang.
    Herb was away on assignment. Just as well. First thing I seen when I pulled up outside Kath's house was John Pharaoh wearing one of Herb's old shirts. Lime green Ban-Lon, with a blue stripe. I'd have recognised it anywhere. He was carrying a raggedy old pillowcase, with something inside it. Gave me that sly smile and I blushed scarlet thinking of what he was at, the last time I seen him.
    ‘I got a surprise for you,’ he said. ‘For your party.’
    I really didn't want any more surprises from him. And if I had known what it was, I'd never have allowed him in my car with it.
    When Kath walked out the door, I hardly knew her. She'd had her hair curled up all night, touch of tangerine lipstick given her by Audrey, and a polka-dot ballerina skirt, Lois's one and only try at dressmaking, far as I knew. I'd wondered what had become of it. God knows she made us all suffer while she was working on it. Said the dots made her eyes hurt. Gave us earache, more to the point. Still, it had finally gone to a good home. Kath looked so pretty in it.
    By the time we got back to the base, Ed was cooking up a storm. It smelled so good. Deana run across and told Vern our company had arrived and food was near enough ready.
    I said, ‘Vern, this here's John. Why don't you get him a cold beer?’
    ‘Right,’ he said. Then, real quiet, to me, ‘Why? He lost the use a his legs?’
    Okey heard it. He said, ‘I'll get it, Vern. You ready for another?’
    So Okey passed John a beer and then he hung around the pit watching the Maple Short Ribs turn mahogany-brown. He didn't seem bothered Vern had turned his back on him. He just stood there, sucking on his beer and holding his pillowcase.
    Kath said, ‘You go steady with that ale, John Pharaoh.’
    I seen Ed sneering.
    ‘Easy to see who's wearing the pants there,’ he said. Priceless remark from a man that was wearing PT shorts and a plastic apron, but Vern sniggered anyway.
    I was so mad at him. He knew better than behaving like that, even if Ed didn't, but that's jocks for you. Put more than two of them together and you have a bunch of show-off kids.
    John had been studying the barbecue. He said, ‘You ever cook a barley eel on a griddle like that?’
    ‘No, my friend,’ Ed said, ‘I don't believe I did.’
    It was Okey looked inside the pillowcase. ‘Christamighty, Vern,’ he said, ‘you should see the size a this sucker.’
    Then John brought it outta the bag. It must have been four feet long, still had its head on, but no skin. Betty screamed. I think I did too. I heard Vern whistle. Get him on to fishing and all that talk about breeds and knuckle-grazers was soon forgot.
    ‘Jeez!’ he said. ‘You catch that hereabouts?’
    John said, ‘Yes. That's a green barley. They just started running.’ He looked so proud. ‘He's a big un, this one,’ he said. ‘When I seen him in the grig this morning, I thought to save him, bring him along. I know how you Colonials like your grub. Kath'll tell you how to cook him.’
Kath Pharaoh's Way with Eels
The young ones are the best, before they've turned yellow. Put them in a pillowcase with a handful of salt and swish that around in a tub of water till the sliminess is gone. Fry them in bacon fat. They're soon done. If you can't get elvers, then get an old boy, eight or nine years old. After you've skinned him, cut him into two-inch pieces and bake him on a grid. That needs a good hot flame. Nice with piccalilli.
    Vern and Okey were inspecting the beast.
    ‘Stun it with a mallet?’
    ‘Had to,’ he said. ‘Generally I pierce them through the spine with a skewer. Couldn't hold this old boy, though. I had to give him a clout with my hammer.’
    ‘Skin come off easy?’
    ‘Not too bad. Do you put a slip-loop round him, hang him from a good strong hook, then cut round him, just aback of his head –Stanley knife does it nice and clean —