Three stroppy Mennonite sisters on the run, looking for freedom from their violent father, submissive mother and the oppression of their misogynistic upbringing. An unusual culture-clash novel with an engaging narrator.
Here, feed her, I said to Aggie. I had finished making the bottle. I wanted to observe these people and make notes in my notebook. No, you do it, said Aggie. I don’t want her to throw up on me. Use my old dress as a shield, I said. No! I’m not gonna sit here draped in that ugly thing, she said. I’m going to look at stuff. She started to walk away and I told her not to wander too far and to come back in twenty minutes. She waggled her ass at me. She didn’t look back. She looked like a normal girl in those jeans and sweatshirt. I watched her walk in the direction of the National Palace, the place the seven Mennonite men came to a long time ago with grim hopes of making a land deal. I imagined her going in and saying hey! El Presidente! Time for a new deal! I fed Ximena. We looked deeply into each other’s eyes while she drank. I liked the heavy, warm weight of her in my arms.