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Nothing about this war is fair.”
    “I know what you’re thinking,” said Peggy Sue. “But your daddy is going to come home safe and sound. I just know he is.”
    She didn’t know any such thing. But as my best friend she had to make promises she couldn’t keep. It was her job to make me feel better.
    “I know,” I said. “I know he’ll come home.”
    But of course I didn’t know. I stared up through the ceiling of our mansion to the blue sky, wishing I could see God. I’d ask Him a thing or two about this war.
    Right now the mansion was as beautiful as it would ever get. A warm breeze made the sunlight and shadows do a dance that wouldn’t stop. You could see it sparkling on every pine tree. The wisteria blossoms hung down through the branches of the pines so that the ceiling and the walls were covered over in purple glory.
    Or blue, if you asked my daddy.
    The smell of it was so sweet it made my throat ache. I ached for the old days when Daddy and I argued over whether that smell was purple or blue. I ached over the meanness of war. I knew if I could just stay here and the blossoms didn’t die, I could forget about the war.
    But the blossoms never lasted long enough. Last week, me and Peggy Sue took some wisteria flowers and pressed them between the pages of our history books so we could take the sweetness to school with us.
    I even sent a pressed blossom in a letter to Daddy. As best I can remember, this is what I wrote:
    Dear Daddy,
    As you can see, your war didn’t kill the wisteria. Only slowed it down, I reckon. I thought if I sent you a little bit of home, it would cheer you up. I hope it still smells sweet when you get this. The flowers are purpler than ever!
    We got the peas in the ground with Junior’s help. They’re up about two inches and the rains have been coming right along. The potatoes are in too. We got a good start on the garden, although it would be way better if you was here to help.
    I hope you’re safe. I pray for you every night and during the day too. I love you better than molasses cookies. (Momma is making you some to put in this package.)
    Love,
    Ann Fay
    I hoped that getting a purplish blue flower from home in the middle of the war would change the way Daddy felt about that pesky vine. But mostly I hoped Peggy Sue was right about Daddy coming home safe and sound.
    Whenever the breeze picked up, little purple petals rained down on me and Peggy Sue. They shimmered all the way down, and I wondered how in the world God could have saved anything prettier just for heaven.

4
Polio!
    June 1944
    By the middle of June the garden was full of vegetable plants. It had some weeds too, but still, I thought my daddy would be proud.
    He wrote every couple of weeks. We got a letter the third week of June.
    Dear family,
    My eyes are sore for the sight of women and children. Especially my woman and my children. And the blue sky and red clay of Carolina would be a wondrous sight too.
    I know you hear on the radio what’s going on in the war. We’re making progress in our mission, but the Germans won’t stop fighting even when they’re licked. So I may be here longer than we thought. War is terrible.
    I’m glad to hear the peas done good. Ann Fay, you do me proud the way you’re filling those overalls.
    Bobby, I have your drawings in my pack, and I take them out and look at them whenever I get a minute. It makes me feel almost like I’m home.
    Ida and Ellie, Momma says you done good in school. I’m right proud of every one of you.
    All my love,
    Daddy
    We wrote Daddy every week, and every so often we sent him a package with comforts like soap and chewing gum and cigarettes.
    Whenever we sent one of them packages, Bobby dumped his box of crayons out on the kitchen table. He drew pictures of tigers and other wild animals on his drawing tablet. We always asked Bobby what message he wanted us to write on his pictures. Every time, he said the same thing. “Tell Daddy, ‘Good night, sleep tight,