Michael Malone - Weebly

Sarah's grandfather had come to Connecticut from
Donegal, where there had been space and quiet
enough, but where half the roof of their stone cottage
lay sinking into the wet earth of the yard, where they
couldn't grow enough to eat and couldn't eat enough to
grow. He had come to America, where he had at least
had a whole roof over his head, even if fortune was less
easy to find than song had promised. Sarah's father had
been born and had died in Madder. His tiny liquor store
had been swallowed by the Great Depression, like
Jonah by the whale. Sarah's sister, Orchid, went to
Dingley Falls every morning to clean other people's
houses. Sarah was determined to go there for good and
clean her own. She was determined to sit in a chair on
earth that she owned.
She believed that in His own time, Christ the Savior
would save the poor. He would march into the banks
and flip over the money tables. He would flip the world
over so that everyday people like Joe and her would
come out on top. She saw no reason why death duties
must be paid on the inheritance of the meek. Yet while
she was certain that in Paradise the men and women of