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The sound of a heavy truck rumbles past. Uneasy, Mamma looks over to me. “Is that thunder, Tessie?” she asks. Mamma hates thunder. I climb up the steps for a better look. “It’s just a truck, Mamma,” I say. I am sizzling like a hot potato. I ask Mamma, “May I put on my bathing suit?” “Absolutely not,” Mamma says, frowning under her straw hat. “You’ll burn all day out in this sun.”
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