and then got up to pour another gloomy-looking glass of pond-apple juice. If you’ve ever tried this pee-colored stuff, you know of its vileness. Eve and Adam would have spit this stuff out and waited millennia until they could get a soda from the café. Pond apples taste like turpentine—we fed them to the Seths—and the Chief and old Sawtooth were the only humans I knew who could hold that stuff down. Kiwi said it was because the men in our family were “competitive masochists” [n]. He held that we kids were absolved from ever having to drink the poison inside a pond apple by Florida law and
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