The prisoner spent the next two days raking up the mowed hay into windrows so it could dry. By then, thanks to the dry weather, the first fields were ...eady for the next step. Herr Wenger had a traktor and wagon. The prisoners used pitchforks to load the dried hay onto the wagon. When the wagon was full, Herr Wenger drove it to his large barn and the prisoners used a large hook to hoist large clumps of the hay to the top floor of the barn, where they would spread it out in the hay mow.The. "We do get our pick of the litter?" Okay, but you pick one and I pick one. I promise I won't give you the worst of them," I agreed.They picked what they thought was the best. I didn't really know that much about pews or how I would ever use them in the cabin, so I just picked one with a moderate amount of wear. The old man and I were about to try loading them when Jose showed up on his motor scooter. I looked and he was right on time.He jumped right in and helped me load the truck with the two. They were loaded on the lower deck among the big trucks and busses, giving them more width on each side. A car of this size truly needed it.They rolled into the McLaren driveway just after seven Sunday evening. The two-person reception party was waiting for them. His parents knew this was the weekend he would be getting his car and they were just as anxious to see it as he had been. Ironically, the car was built the same year his father was born. Oohs and aahs were forthcoming as they inspected. Amelia, the quintessential middle child, sat at his left. She was going on fifteen. And Amy the youngest, sat beside Amelia, closer to her mother. Two of the girls had the same hair color as their father, ash blonde, except Alicia, who had her mother's Irish red hair, naturally curled and hanging to her shoulders. They were having pasta and onions, with hardly any meat, and some day old bread that Dad had scored in a bread line, when there was a knock at the door.Amy, the youngest of three.