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he eggs—I hadn't said we wanted
them or needed them or liked them—the fact was; I'd
never seen Juli cry before。 Not when she'd broken her arm in P。E。; not when she'd been
teased at school or ditched by her brothers。 Not even when
they'd cut down the sycamore tree。 I'm pretty sure she cried then; but I didn't actually see it。
To me; Juli Baker had always been too tough to cry。
I went down to my room to pack my stuff for school; feeling like the biggest jerk to ever hit the
pla。 I'd been sneaking around throwing out eggs
for over two years; avoiding her; avoiding my father — what did that make me? Why hadn't I
just stood up and said; No thanks; don't want 'em; don't
need 'em; don't like 'em…。 Give them to the snake; why don't you? Something!
Was I really afraid of hurting her feelings?
Or was I afraid of her?
The Eggs
After they cut down the sycamore tree; it seemed like everything else fell apart; too。 Champ
died。 And then I found out about the eggs。 It was
Champ's time to go; and even though I still miss him; I think it's been easier for me to deal
with his death than it has been for me to deal with the
truth about the eggs。 I still cannot believe it about the eggs。
The eggs came before the chickens in our case; but the dog came before them both。 One
night when I was about six years old; Dad came home
from work with a full…grown do
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