The oxen were slow and didn’t seem to like being yoked together, and I could have gotten there faster if I’d walked. At last we met up with Aunt Catherine and Uncle Will, and by then, I was hot under my three layers of clothes. Aunt Catherine looked hot, too, because they had been waiting at the end of their farm road since early morning. “Thomas had to rearrange the wagon,” Ma told Aunt Catherine, explaining our delay. “Will was up in the middle of the night to repack ours, although I do not believe he found one more inch of space,” Aunt Catherine said as she helped Ma down from the wagon. Wearing all her dresses, Aunt Catherine looked fat, although not as big as Ma. Pa and Uncle Will walked around the oxen, checking the heavy wooden yokes, tightening the ropes on the wagon, which Pa had already tightened just before we left. Then the two of them leaned against Uncle Will’s wagon and talked a moment about the road ahead. I was by myself on the wagon seat. Ma had Aunt Catherine, Pa had Uncle Will, but Skiddles was gone, and all I had was Waxy, who wasn’t much for conversation.
