We had celebrated my birthday on the plain just my father, mother, and sister. We had goat milk, dry bread, and goat meat. It was a simple celebration...because we still had a long way to walk.When we reached the city we asked our way to the house we were looking for. It belonged to my father’s uncle, Abraham, and his wife, Sarah.They were good people and took us in for a few months until my father found work, and we moved out.I spent most of the day on the city streets; my parents didn’t like it. " That's a polite way of saying he was a consummate ass kisser who made the big bucks kissing ass. One sale a year was all it took to keep him out of the food stamp line.Mom was home. She had been crying and her makeup was running down her cheeks. She looked serious and scared when I came in the front door."And how was your day?" I asked. I felt angry, hurt and betrayed."Bobby, we need to talk," she told me."About what? Don't you know it's not polite to talk and eat at the same time?" I paused. More

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