Virge!” Marcus yelled as he poked his brother awake. “You gotta get up. The sun’s already up and we have to finish planting that patch of corn.” Virgil groaned and turned over. Lying on a tarp on the dirt floor of their soddy, he pulled the light cover over his head. “Go away. You aren’t my father.” Marcus stepped around Virgil’s bed pad to Liberty who was preparing their breakfast. The smell of frying bacon almost covered the raw earthy odor of the soddy. “Lib, you try. I can’t get him to move.” Liberty frowned at Marcus. “You’re too bossy, Marc,” she said. She glanced at Virgil’s form. He turned on his side and drew up his knees. Even with his eyes closed, his position dared Marcus to move him. “Please, Virge,” she said softly to him. “Get up so I can put breakfast on the table.” Virgil moaned. He threw off the quilt, stood up, rolled his bedding into a tight bundle, and stored it in the corner beside the others.
