“Yeah, but I wanna go to Gramma’s.”

          “You heard what your father said.”

          Then there was an explosion—Dad’s fist slamming the tabletop.

          “Darn-nit! He just wants some money to buy a thing, that’s all. Dolly, whatever he wants don’t give it to him. Is that clear?” Mom didn’t answer right away. “OK, Dolly?” he repeated it louder.

          “Yes.”

          “Whatever it is, boy, you’re not gonna get it this time, no matter how much you beg or cry or wheedle.” Dad acted very happy with himself. “No, you’re not gonna get it. Not this time so forget about it. I had it now.” He picked up and threw down his napkin in the same place. “Now let’s have no more arguments at the table. Dolly, please, sit down now, come on.”

          “Can I be excused?” I said.

          “Yes,” he said.

          So, I left the table with only one thing on my mind—how I was going to get that glove. There was a way. There was never a time when there wasn’t some way to get what I wanted. I might be able to get Auntie Grace, or even Uncle Victor to do it. But Dad would just be angrier if I got them behind his back. There had to be someone without him finding out ever. This was terrible. I didn’t know anyone. I wished I could do it all by myself. Show him. I was so mad he was doing this to me.