A Hard Life

   Jon David and Mama had buried Papa under the only apple tree we had managed to make grow in the heavy Stoddard County soil.  It was up the hill from the barn and house a hundred yards or so.  Jon David told me that Mama had scratched Papa's name on a wide cypress plank he had pulled from the floor of the barn loft.  My brother had buried the plank standing at the head of the mound of fresh dirt.  I could't read or ciper as yet so Jon David traced the words on the board as he spoke them.