Exceprt from It Only Hurts When I Can't Run 23. Belt in te Face By the time I was twelve, in the seventh grade, and still under Miss Taylor’s thumb, our relationship had slowly deteriorated. It wasn’t completely my fault. It began with Miss Taylor being preoccupied with her friendship with one of her church sisters, Mrs. Manor, forcing me into give-and-take with the two Manor girls my age; fortunately, I could ignore the Manor boys. The Manor family lived in Sebring’s country outskirts. Miss Taylor would take me, Jon, and any other kids in her temporary care to the country. The county scents that changed from sweet to foul, depending on where you stood in the yard, surprised and invigorated me. Dodging snorting pigs and running after chickens (or from them, in my case, because I thought they were crazed beasts) put a lot of glee into the day. Playing in a smelly trailer hidden in the woods made it seem like we had our own personal house. Eating frie...