Free Angels by Reba White Williams

all.
Dinah
    Southport is all big white houses standin’ under huge magnolia trees covered with lemony-smellin’ creamy flowers. Every house has hanging baskets of petunias or geraniums or impatiens, and swings or hammocks on their porches. The streets are lined with crepe myrtle trees, pink and lavender and white. In the harbor, boats sail and chug by, and flocks of pelicans glide back and forth.
    The restaurant we went to was called The Sand Dollar. I found a sand dollar when we were at the beach and showed it to Coleman, who liked it so much, I gave it to her. Aunt Polly wrapped it up in Kleenex and put it in her bag for safekeeping.
    Aunt Mary Louise had reserved tables outside under the big oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. Peter got to stay with us, but he had to wear his leash and be tied to a table leg. We gave him a bowl of water and his favorite treat: two carrots we brought from home. He had a huge drink, crawled under the table, and settled down to gnaw his carrots. I reckoned he was tired after all that runnin’ on the beach.
    Aunt Mary Louise ordered seafood plates—grown-up size for her and Aunt Polly and Miss Ida, and smaller plates for us. Smiley college girls like Sarah Ann brought iced tea for everybody, and milk for some of us, and baskets of fried potatoes and hush puppies. Our plates were piled with fried shrimp, and fried flounder, and fried oysters, and a deviled crab, and coleslaw. I never thought we’d eat it all, but there wasn’t much left when we’d had our fill. And then we all had coconut cream pie for dessert. I thought I’d bust! We’d said the blessin’ before we ate, but after we finished, Aunt Polly said a special prayer of thanks for the food, and the day, and friendship.
Polly
    We packed up what was left of the food for Mary Louise to take back to Granny, who only picks at meals these days, but she loves seafood and might eat a bite or two. The children slept all the way to Moore’s Creek National Battlefield, where Mary and Ezekiel Slocumb are buried, and where the Cape Fear Monument, sometimes called the Slocumb Monument, was erected in 1907 as a Revolutionary War memorial. Ezekiel Slocumb fought in the war, and Mary Slocumb tended the wounded. Ida and I aren’t pedigree proud, but we think the children can learn and remember history better if they can tie the history to stories about people with whom they have a connection. Anyway, the grave site is a calm and peaceful place. We said a prayer for those who’ve gone before and thanked God for our many blessings, including our glorious holiday.
Dinah
    We slept on the way back to Slocumb Corners and didn’t want any supper. Aunt Polly said we had to take hot baths with soap to make sure we got all the saltwater off. We climbed in the tub together, too tired to splash and play. I fell asleep in the tub, and Aunt Polly had to get me out, and dry me off, hear my prayers, and put me to bed. I never had such a wonderful day.
Polly
    We took Peter to the vet to get his shots, and then it was Coleman’s turn to go to the doctor. I’d worried about her shots, because we didn’t know what she’d had, and she can’t go to school without proof she’s had everything required. But we had found her medical records from before she left Slocumb County in Olivia’s papers. She’d had shots from Dr. Mann, who’s still our doctor. And there was a letter from Jenny Byrd to Olivia, enclosing a record of the shots Jenny had made sure Coleman got in Richmond. Fortunately, she’s had everything she needs.
    Dr. Mann gave her a few boosters, and while she was there, he checked her over to see about her general health. All her bruises have faded, but I worry about how tiny she is. When we were at the doctor’s office, I learned that Coleman is concerned about her size, too. She was dressed and ready to leave when she looked up and said, “Dr. Mann, am I a midget? Did somethin’ stunt my growth?”
    “Goodness, Sissy, where’d you get