montana 2:3

But here, I was worried about ticks, one of which Jill found in her leg the previous morning, even though we'd stayed indoors. This campground, although un-sprinkled, was overgrown with prairie grass, good living for ticks. Jill had her own tent, for privacy - we'd picked it up pretty cheap in Roundup - and we spread a greasy blanket from the trunk under her tent to keep the insects down. In the dark, Jack and I pitched our tent and climbed inside. I didn't know if I'd slept or not when I heard the Stars Bangled Banner on a harmonica coming from Jill's direction. She must have acquired that in Roundup, too, since I'd never heard her play. Harmonica never seemed to me like a girl's instrument. What? said sleepy Jack. I tried to listen for my own voice to know if I'd been speaking aloud. The National Anthem, I said. It comes across the prairie from the heart of the country. No way, said Jack, and soon he was breathing again, child's breath I could smell as it filled the tent and pushed me back to sleep. Not my children, I thought, almost a dream.

move on...