By Judd Holt
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Extra resources for A Promise to Catie
It was an almost perfect day. The north breezes and the south breezes were struggling only slightly against each other, with the south just strong enough to keep the air warm. Pure-white cumulus clouds, moving almost im- Page 33 perceptibly, made the blue background even bluer. The grass was still spring green, and wildflowers covered the fields. When most people think of Texas wildflowers, they think of bluebonnets. I also think of the yellow and black coreopsis and the Indian paintbrush and Queen Anne's lace.
Even as I argued that I had not seen them, I was vaguely recalling their being there when I had gone to bed the night before. I never admitted this to Beth, though. And we never saw the brush and comb again. On Sunday night, following the puzzling disappearance, the moon was almost full. As I lay on my bed, looking at the light it made, I realized it was going to be cold and I thought of the open windows. I got up to shut them. When I reached the window, I glanced out into the garden which was spotted with shadows and moonlight.
My sister, Beth, the only person who should remember what occurred, has not, for many years, even alluded to that long-ago time. Now, however, almost thirty-seven years have passed since those days, and even though very few people will believe me, it's time for me to relate what happened. Page 5 In January 1955, I was thirteen and our family was moving from Dallas to an old farmhouse out in the country, north of the small college town of Oakpoint, Texas. Dad was driving and talking in an exuberant voice, which was not unusual for him.
A Promise to Catie by Judd Holt