The light sprinkle of rain that had been falling when she left the farmhouse was turning into a steady downpour, and she headed for the big elm tree in the middle of the field for shelter."Come on, Spam, hurry." She called to the pig who had wandered in the general direction of the pond. Upon hearing Georgia's voice, Spam waddled at her top speed—which wasn't very speedy— toward the tree.Seating herself upon one of the gnarled roots that had long ago pushed above the surface of the earth, Georgia wiped beads of water from her face and shivered as a few strays slid down her throat and onto her chest. What, she wondered, had happened to yesterday's beautiful weather?Seems it disappeared as quickly as Matt's pleasant disposition had the night before, she thought, trying for the hundredth time to figure out what could have caused him to close off and flee so suddenly.Everything had been fine. Better than fine. Matt had seemed to be getting along with everyone— everyone liked him—and he even seemed to almost like them.
