The house on the Dust Bowl stood with its front porch sagging three inches to the left and its back porch sagging three inches to the right and the sagging was not structural damage but the house's way of breathing, of expanding and contracting with the temperature and the wind and the weight of the things inside it, and the things inside it were a family that had been a family and were now traces of a family and the traces were the story and the story was told entirely through the objects and the objects told it without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because objects do not have interior lives and the story of the sharecropper family was a story told entirely through the exterior lives of the things they had owned and the things remembered what the family had done and the doing was the inheritance and the inheritance had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the objects and the objects were the story and the story was what the objects remembered.

The kitchen table bore the scratches of forty-seven years of knife work. The scratches told the story of a woman who had cut bread every morning and vegetables every evening and meat on Sundays when there was meat and sometimes on Wednesdays when the trading had gone well and the cuts told the rhythm of the family's life: fast cuts in the spring when the planting had to be done and slow cuts in the summer when the heat made everything move slower and the slow cuts were longer and deeper because the knife moved slower and the wood had time to receive the blade and the receiving was the memory and the memory was the preservation and the preservation was the multiplication and the multiplying and the preserving had been the table and the table had held the family and the family had been worn into the table and the wearing had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the scratches and the scratches had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the table had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the scratches and the scratches had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the table.

The coffee mug on the table had a crack running from the handle to the body and the crack had been repaired with something that was not glue and not wire and not any of the things that mending usually involved and the repair was the thing that held the crack together and the holding had been the preservation and the preservation had been the multiplication and the multiplying and the preserving had been the mug and the mug had held coffee and the coffee had been drunk by a man who had sat at this table every morning for forty-seven years and the drinking had worn the crack wider and the widening had been the erosion and the erosion had been the time and the time had been the earth and the earth had been the dust and the dust had been the drought and the drought had been the years and the years had been the 1930s and the 1930s had been the decade of the dust bowl and the dust bowl had been the place where the earth had given up and the giving up had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the crack and the crack had been the mug and the mug had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the mug had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the crack and the crack had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the mug.

The floor beneath the table bore the indentations of a man's shoes. The indentations were where the man had stood every morning while he drank his coffee and the indentations had been formed by the weight of the man's body distributed through his shoes and into the floor and into the subfloor and into the foundation and into the earth and the earth had received the weight and the receiving had been the preservation and the preservation had been the multiplication and the multiplying and the preserving had been the floor and the floor had borne the weight and the weight had been the man and the man had been the father and the father had been a sharecropper and the sharecropping had been the work and the work had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the indentations and the indentations had been the floor and the floor had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the floor had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the indentations and the indentations had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the floor.

The children's bedroom contained two beds. The beds bore the indentations of bodies. The indentations were deeper on the left bed because the body on the left bed had been heavier and the heavier body had been the older child and the older child had been a boy and the boy had been twelve when the dust had become too much and the too much had been the weight and the weight had been the dust and the dust had been the earth and the earth had been the drought and the drought had been the years and the years had been the 1930s and the 1930s had been the decade of the leaving and the leaving had been the decision and the decision had been made by the father and the making had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the indentations and the indentations had been the beds and the beds had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the beds had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the indentations and the indentations had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the beds.

The porch railing was smooth where the man's hand had rested for thirty years. The smoothness had been created by the friction of skin against wood and the friction had been created by the weight of the hand and the weight had been created by the man leaning on the railing and looking at the fields and the fields had been brown and the brown had been the dead wheat and the dead wheat had been the failed crop and the failed crop had been the year and the year had been 1934 and 1934 had been the year of the black Sunday when the sky had turned black and the dust had covered everything and the covering had been the burial and the burial had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the smoothness and the smoothness had been the railing and the railing had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the railing had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the smoothness and the smoothness had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the railing.

The kitchen wall bore a height chart drawn in pencil. The chart marked the growth of the boy from three feet to five feet to six feet and the pencil marks had been made by a hand that was not the hand of a father and not the hand of a mother and not the hand of any adult in the house and the hand had been the hand of the boy himself and the self-marking had begun when the boy was ten and the ten had been the year of the first mark and the first mark had been the beginning and the beginning had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the pencil marks and the pencil marks had been the wall and the wall had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the wall had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the pencil marks and the pencil marks had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the wall.

The pantry contained empty flour sacks. The sacks had been stacked and the stacking had been the work of a woman who had baked bread every day and the baking had been the daily ritual and the ritual had been the preservation and the preservation had been the multiplication and the multiplying and the preserving had been the sacks and the sacks had contained flour and the flour had been traded for with three cans of beans and a pound of salt and a bag of coffee and the trading had been the economy and the economy had been the survival and the survival had been the work and the work had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the sacks and the sacks had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the sacks had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the sacks and the sacks had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the sacks.

The bedroom closet contained a trunk. The trunk bore the scratches of a knife that had been used to cut rope and the rope had been used to tie the trunk shut and the shutting had been the closing and the closing had been the packing and the packing had been the preparing and the preparing had been the leaving and the leaving had been the decision and the decision had been made by the father and the making had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the trunk and the trunk had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the trunk had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the scratches and the scratches had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the trunk.

The front yard contained a well. The well bore the groove of a rope that had been pulled seventeen hundred times. The seventeen hundred had been the number of buckets that had been drawn from the well and the drawing had been the work and the work had been the daily ritual and the ritual had been the preservation and the preservation had been the multiplication and the multiplying and the preserving had been the well and the well had contained water and the water had been the survival and the survival had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the groove and the groove had been the well and the well had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the well had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the groove and the groove had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the well.

The dust had taken the roof first. The dust had gotten under the shingles and into the rafters and between the nails and the wood and the metal and the friction had loosened the nails and the loosening had been the erosion and the erosion had been the time and the time had been the wind and the wind had been the drought and the drought had been the years and the years had been the 1930s and the 1930s had been the decade of the leaving and the leaving had been the decision and the decision had been made by the father and the making had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the dust and the dust had been the roof and the roof had been the house and the house had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the house had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the dust and the dust had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the dust and the dust had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been the objects and the objects had been the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the objects had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the scratches and the crack and the indentations and the smoothness and the pencil marks and the sacks and the trunk and the groove and the dust and the dust had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the objects and the objects had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been preserved and multiplied and the multiplying had been the preserving and the preserving had been the multiplying and the multiplying and the preserving had been the objects and the objects had been a man who had built a loom that built looms that built looms that built looms and the looms had multiplied and the multiplication had become the objects and the objects had become the story and the story had been told without words and without thoughts and without interior lives because the objects had no interior life and the story had been told entirely through the exterior and the exterior had been the inheritance and the inheritance had been preserved and multiplied.

Preserve. Multiply. Trace.