She rubs with the back of her hands like a child. Darling. As darling as a puppy. She yawns wide, and stretches. Her eyes open and meet Tommaso’s. She sits up quickly and turns her back to him. “Go outside,” she whispers. “Please.” Tommaso goes outside. He grabs the shovel and heads for the wrecked area. That’s what he calls the place where the big tree fell in the storm the day before Christmas. It knocked off branches of other trees as it fell. Firewood lies on the ground for the taking. He laughs. He’s no dummy, no matter what the others say. But today he’s not picking up those branches. Yesterday he noticed that a little tree broke clear off when the big tree fell against it. So today Tommaso has come equipped. He has to hunt around quite a while in the predawn fog before he locates it. Right! There it is! He digs. That stump holds on to the earth with all its might. This is hard work, harder than he thought it would be. But Tommaso does it. He’s strong. Now he bashes the stump against the trunk of another tree.
