Out in the open with the wind blowing around her hoodie, Lolly traveled to another place. She was not at a foot ball game, she was in the Roman coliseum and lions were snarling. She could feel the fear and smell the blood. It was gruesome and ugly. People chanted around her, their blood lust in need of fulfillment. It was entertainment at its best to watch human pitted against animal. The lions prowled with heads low and fangs exposed. The man stood waiting to meet his death because of what he held sacred. A shiver ran through her. How much did it hurt to be mauled by those huge paws? What did it feel like to be bathed in the warmth of your own blood?

The sound of Grandma Toady's voice pulled Lolly out of the coliseum and back into the present. On the field Max had the ball and he was running hard. A kid twice his size was after him. In .5 seconds the kid knocked Max to the ground. Aunt Jessie jumped up and screamed. Everything slowed down. The fans all stood. The play stopped. Medics ran out on to the field. Max was so very still. Lolly could hear the beat of her own heart. Her chest was tight.

Too short to see what was happening, Mitzi jumped up and down. Aunt Jessie swung Mitizi onto her hip and pointed at the field. Mitzi whispered, "Is he dead?"

The question echoed inside of Lolly, Only moments ago she had been comfortably day dreaming about the coliseum, imaging it, but not really feeling what the man in the pit felt. What she felt now was primal and painful. The fragility of life cold cocked her. Munch slipped his hand into hers. Her hand was numb, his was sweaty.

The ambulance lights began to swirl on the field. A stretcher was brought out. Before this moment Lolly never thought much about why an ambulance would be at a football field, but now she knew. She didn't want to know this.

Aunt Jesse shoved Mitzi into Grandma Toady's arms and ran down the bleacher steps and onto the field. The paramedics lifted Max onto the stretcher. He still had not moved. Lolly felt cold. On the field Aunt Jessie was hysterical.

Mitzi whimpered, "Mama?"

"Here," said Grandma Toady. She handed Mitzi to Lolly. She told the little girl, "I will go take care of Mama, Honey. Michael, could you call your mom to take ya'll home?"

Munch said, "Yes, Ma'am, I will."

Faster than Lolly had ever seen Grandma Toady move, she rushed down the steps and onto the field. Aunt Jessie was trying to get in the ambulance with Max, but the paramedics wouldn't let her. Grandma Toady wrapped her arms around Aunt Jessie and pulled her away. The ambulance doors closed, the paramedics got inside and the siren whirred to life. The pulsation of the lights on top made Lolly feel scared. Grandma Toady and Aunt Jessie ran off the field and into the parking lot. They were headed car to drive to the hospital.

Again Mitzi asked, "Is Max dead?"

Lolly could not speak. Her vocal cords were frozen. All of her was frozen.

"No," said Munch. "He's just hurt. He will be okay."

Lolly shot Munch a look, he did not know that. He read her look and shrugged. "I better go call my mama."

Softly, Mitzi started to cry. "I only got one big brother, I sure hope he's okay." She snuggled agains Lolly's neck. She could feel Mitzi tears and snot against her skin. In a muffled whisper, Mitzi cried, "I don't like this now."

"Me either." That morning seemed so far away. Even if Max was stuck up and mean these days she didn't want him to not be there. She didn't want him to be gone. Everyone sat down. The game proceeded as if nothing had happened. She needed to go find Munch.

Still holding Mitzi, who was clutching Puccini, she made her way down the bleacher steps and headed for the pay phone. Max was still talking to his mom. She ran straight for him, unaware of everyone else. A hand caught her sleeve a familiar voice said, "I hope your brother is okay."

Mitzi twisted in Lolly's arms and said to Trevor Long, "I hope so too."

Lolly didn't say anything she just stared.

"Do y'all need a ride?"

Mitzi said, "No Mrs. Dutchendorfph is going to take us home."

Trevor Long's eyes slid to Lolly's. He gave her an encouraging smile. "Let me know how he's doing?"

"I would," said Mitzi, "but I don't know you."

Trevor smiled, "Lolly can tell me on the bus tomorrow."

Panic, fear and utter delight swirled around so hard inside of Lolly she felt like she was going to puke. He said her name! He knew she existed! Max might be dead or seriously hurt! How was she supposed to hold that in her tiny little cabbage of a brain and her fist sized heart?

Trevor said, "See you ya'll," and he walked away.

All Lolly could do was continue to stare. Mitzi buried her head in Lolly's neck. Trevor headed up the bleachers and disappeared from sight.

When Munch said, "My Mom is coming." Lolly gasped. Her over active startle reflex had struck again. Munch said, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Against her neck Mitzi said, "Like that is hard."

They left the field and headed back across the street to the school. Mitzi was gettin heavy, but Lolly did not dare put her down. Mitzi was prone to bolting in open spaces. Soon, Mrs. Dutchendorph's little red Volkswagen pulled up. She was scrawny like Munch, but she had fair freckled skin. She was an art professor at the junior college. As usual she was wearing one of Munch's creations, a bold flower print dress with gold piping. Her blues eyes were slightly distorted by thick glasses. She said, "Hop in kids, ya'll are spending the evening with me." Was Max so bad that they couldn't stay go home? She untangled Mitzi and buckled her into the back seat and then climbed in herself. This day had not turned out at all like she thought it would. Her worst fear this day had been Max getting back at her because he lost his egg in the hole. The car sputtered off. Mrs. Dutchendorph said, "I will call the hospital when we get to the house okay?"

"Okay," replied Mitzi. She had a death grip on Puccini. The little bear was almost squeezed in two.

The drove passed their trailer Park. Munch did not live in the trailer park. He lived on what used to be his Granny's farm. Their house was even smaller than the trailer. Mrs. Dutchendorph's brothers and father had built the house when she was a little girl. It only had five rooms down stairs and one room in the attic. The attic room was a combined studio. Half of it had Mrs. Dutchendorph's illustration supplies and the other half had Munch's dress dummy and piles of Goodwill purchases. Mitzi loved that room and hopefully once they got into it she would feel better, Lolly hoped she would feel better too.

The car drove into what used to be the barn. It still smelled of hay and cow manure. The only animals that Munch and his mom kept were chickens. Mitzi liked to gather eggs so that would be another possible distraction. When they walked from the barn to the house the chickens started raising a ruckus. Mrs. Dutchendorph said, "Mitzi would you and Puccini like to help me gather eggs after supper?"

A smile wavered on Mitzi's lips. She said, "Yes Ma'am me and Puccini would like that very much."

"Good!"

When they got inside the house, it was all a clutter. Grandma Toady took a dim view of poor housekeepers. She thought it reflected an inner shiftiness. Lolly found this viewpoint hypocritical. Didn't never ever paying bills on time and ignoring late fees reflect some inner shiftiness on Grandma Toady's part?

Munch took them up to the studio. The stairs were a little hard for Mitzi to navigate. As soon as she hit the studio floor she ran to Mrs. Dutchendorph's drafting table. On it was an illustration of an owl in full flight. His feathers looked so soft. Mitzi declared, "When I grow up, I am gonna be an illustra-tor too!"

Munch asked, "What, you don't want to be a clothing designer?"

"Nope. Sewing machines are too noisy and they can STAB you."

"True," said Munch.

From below, Lolly could hear Mrs. Dutchendorph on the phone. She was listening more that she was talking. She said, "Okay, thank you. I will let the kids know." Mrs. Dutchendorph's voice did not sound like she had just heard that Max was going to die. Her steps ascended the stairs. There was a smile on her face when she got to the top. "Max is okay. He has a concussion and a broken collar bone. They are going to keep him over night for observation."

Mitzi clapped her hands and said, "Oh that makes me so happy! I was not ready for him to become an angel."

Neither was Lolly. She felt her whole body go limp. She had been some kind of scared. No matter how much Max annoyed her, it turned out that she still loved him A LOT!

"I need to get back to fixing supper. Mitzi, do you and Puccini want to help?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We are good helpers, Grandma Toady says so."

Mrs. Dutchendorph held out her hand and Mitzi took it.

When they were gone Munch said, "Since you are here, I might as well take your measurements."

Lolly had never had her measurements taken and she did not know what it entailed. Munch went to his chest of drawers. On it was a record player. He flipped it on, and balanced the needle on the vinyl disc. Etta James's voice filled the room. He grabbed his measuring tape and said, "Now hold still. And know everything I am going to do is absolutely professional and I am not trying to grope or anything."

He handed her the yellow tape and said, "First your bust. You measure it. Hold the tape firm."

It was embarrassing to hold the tape over her boobs and under her boobs. No wonder none of the other girls had wanted to do this. He then, took the tape and measured her waist. She held the tape while he pulled it tight around her hips. The inseam was next. Munch was absolutely professional, but the whole process made Lolly uncomfortable. She knew her entire face and head was beet red but there was nothing she could do about it. Finally he said, "That is it. There is still a fitting once I get it done."

There was more to this model stuff than just getting up in front of a lot of people. She still wanted to back out, but when she looked at the smile on Munch's face and the light in his eyes, she knew she couldn't do that to him. He trusted her to keep her word, even though it would be hard. On the record Etta James sang:

Have the faith I have in you...*

If only she could believe in herself the way Munch believed in her.

*From the song, Trust In Me, sang by Etta James.