He stepped back, not far enough! The heavy handle of the umbrella missed his head but landed heavily on his left clavicle. There was a loud crack! He ...creamed! ‘You broke my collar bone!’ He fell to the floor crying out in pain. Cheryl delivered another punishing shot at the same spot, and received another welcome cry of pain. She threw the umbrella across the room and ran to where Martin was slumped on the floor. ‘Martin! Martin!’ She screamed. There wasn’t any response. Turner was crying on. She enjoyed revisiting her past and soon was convinced that Bud was not a jerk. When they came to High Point Fork and Bud had turned right to take the climb to Mason’s Creek she called, ‘Change of mind, woman’s prerogative. Let’s go to Moss Lake.’ All those years ago, the eight sixteen year-olds with Mrs Streeter as chaperone in the packed cabin at nights, had gone every day to Moss Lake to swim. Although that was in midsummer, the water had been chilly as the small lake was ringed by tall. More

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