Chapter One: The Shoebox
Ten Chits. That was what Mama called me ever since the day I came home bloody in the mouth from having kicked Gedders' ass.
"His hands don't go by me," was all I'd tell her, and she called me Ten Chits. I guess because ten was the highest she ever learned to count, and a chit was just a something to her.
Anything could be a chit. Mostly I was the chit. You're just a chit, she'd say. Sometimes, my big brother Vin was the chit. Or maybe she called that whip-tailed hound dog from down the street a chit when she had another bag of "groceries," having come up from town, and "that chit of a mongrel" growled...