Page 8 - Brave Bird at Wounded Knee - I Am America

“As you wish, Miss Patricia Brave Bird Antoine,” Mom

said with pretend formality. “But you’ll always be my baby.”
Patsy smiled despite herself. “Speaking of babies,

you’re going to need some new uniforms soon.”

Mom checked the skirt of her nurse’s dress, which

stretched tightly over her growing belly. Patsy was getting a
sibling in about four months. She hoped it would be a girl.

“I think I can alter a few of the ones I have.” Mom was

always finding ways to save money. “Now I have to get to

the hospital. And you have to get ready for school. Dad’s in
the shower. See you tonight.”

Patsy brushed her teeth, combed her long hair, and

picked an outfit—a new top with her favorite bell-bottom

jeans. By the time she got to the kitchen, Dad was already
packing his lunch.

“PB and J, Pats?” he asked, offering her the peanut

butter jar.

“Yep.” She wouldn’t eat tuna sandwiches. She hated
mayonnaise.

“You want a ride today?” Dad asked.

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