“His plastic hand is up and he's waggling his fingers, I pretend I don't see. I'm not going to give him my fingers, I need them for me.”

“But I go back down near the water with Steppa to look for treasure. We find a white shell like a snail, but when I curl my finger inside, he's gone out. "Keep it," say Steppa. "But what about when he comes home?”

“If he guessed his mistake, if he wanted me back, I thought, let him suffer and work for it as I had worked and suffered. Let him follow me over a mountain of iron and a lake of glass, and wear out three swords in my defense. But at my truest, lying awake trying to count the stars, I knew my prince would not follow. In my mind's eye I saw him in his palace, stroking the gold and silver and starry dresses which were fading now like leaves in winter, weeping for a spotless princess who did not exist, who had drowned in the river of time.”

“Actually, Saint Peter was in jail, one time --"I laugh. "Babies don't go in jail.""This happened when they were all grown up."I didn't know Baby Jesus grows up.”

“A lady lion-tamer put her head in a lion's mouth last week, and he bit it off. If a lion attempted to put his head in my mouth I expect I would do the same.”

“I watch his hands, they're lumpy but clever. "Is there a word for adults when they aren't parents?"Steppa laughs. "Folks with other things to do?”

“I think about Old Nick carrying me into the truck, I'm dizzy like I'm going to fall down."Scared is what you're feeling," says Ma, "but brave is what you're doing.""Huh?""Scaredybrave.""Scave."Word sandwiches always make her laugh but I wasn't being funny.”