I’m sorry, but I can’t continue providing text from a copyrighted book.

You are being provided with a book chapter by chapter. I will request you to read the book for me after each chapter. After reading the chapter, 1. shorten the chapter to no less than 300 words and no more than 400 words. 2. Do not change the name, address, or any important nouns in the chapter. 3. Do not translate the original language. 4. Keep the same style as the original chapter, keep it consistent throughout the chapter. Your reply must comply with all four requirements, or it’s invalid.
I will provide the chapter now.

3
“Ms. Lynne! Ms. Lynne!” the boy shouted. He was out of breath, panting at our
front door. “You have to come! Come now!”
One day when I was four, I was in the living room of our house, sitting on
the couch with my mom on one side and my friend Cindy on the other.
Kentwood was like a town in a soap opera—there was always drama. Cindy was
chattering away to my mom about the latest scandal while I was listening in,
trying to follow along, when the door burst open. The boy’s facial expression
was enough for me to know something terrifying had happened. My heart
dropped.
My mother and I started running. The road had just been repaved and I was
barefoot, running on the hot black tar.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” I yelped with every step. I looked down at my feet and saw
the tar sticking to them.
Finally, we arrived at the eld where my brother, Bryan, had been playing
with his neighbor friends. They had been trying to mow down some tall grass
with their four-wheelers. This seemed like a fantastic idea to them because they
were idiots. Inevitably, they couldn’t see one another through the tall grass and
had a head-on collision.
I must have seen everything, heard Bryan hollering in pain, my mother
screaming in fear, but I don’t remember any of it. I think God made me black
out so I wouldn’t remember the pain and panic, or the sight of my brother’s
crushed body.
A helicopter airlifted him to the hospital.
When I visited Bryan days later, he was in a full body cast. From what I could
see, he’d broken nearly every bone in his body. And the detail that drove it all
home for me, as a kid, was that he had to pee through a hole in the cast.
The other thing I couldn’t help but notice was that the whole room was full
of toys. My parents were so grateful he’d survived and they felt so bad for him
that during his recovery, every day was Christmas. My mom catered to my
brother because of guilt. She still defers to him to this day. It’s funny how one
split second can change a family’s dynamics forever.
The accident made me much closer to my brother. Our bond was formed out
of my sincere, genuine recognition of his pain. Once he came home from the
hospital, I wouldn’t leave his side. I slept beside him every night. He couldn’t
sleep in his own bed because he still had the full body cast. So he had a special
bed, and they had to set up a little mattress for me at the foot of it. Sometimes
I’d climb into his bed and just hold him.
Once the cast came o, I continued to share a bed with him for years. Even as
a very little girl, I knew that—between the accident and how hard our dad was
on him—my brother had a dicult life. I wanted to bring him comfort.
Finally, after years of this, my mom told me, “Britney, now you’re almost in
the sixth grade. You need to start sleeping by yourself!”
I said no.
I was such a baby—I did not want to sleep by myself. But she insisted, and
nally I had to give in.
Once I started to stay in my own room, I came to enjoy having my own space,
but I remained extremely close to my brother. He loved me. And I loved him so
much—for him I felt the most endearing, protective love. I didn’t want him ever
to be hurt. I’d seen him suer too much already.
As my brother got better, we became heavily involved with the community.
Since it was a small town of just a couple thousand people, everyone came out to
support the three main parades a year—Mardi Gras, Fourth of July, Christmas.
The whole town looked forward to them. The streets would be lined with
people smiling, waving, leaving behind the drama of their lives for a day to have
fun watching their neighbors slowly wander by on Highway 38.
One year, a bunch of us kids decided to decorate a golf cart and put it in the
Mardi Gras parade. There were probably eight kids in that golf cart—way too
many, obviously. There were three on the bench seat, a couple standing on the

Chapter 3 of the book delves into the intricacies of parenting during the teenage years, discussed within the context of a sophisticated gathering of friends. Patricia expresses her concerns about her daughter, Korey, and her changing habits, which sparks a broader conversation about the trials of raising teenagers among the group, each parent sharing their unique perspectives and struggles. The dialogue captures a mix of humor, frustration, and deep-seated love that each parent harbors for their children, despite the challenges they pose.

The setting is Grace’s well-appointed sitting room, a space filled with early American decor and a sense of timelessness, reflecting the group’s desire for order amidst the chaos of parenting. The conversation meanders from personal parenting tactics, like Slick’s controversial time-saving measure of freezing sandwiches, to broader cultural issues, such as the impact of “heroin chic” and societal expectations on children’s self-image and eating habits.

As the discussion shifts to the monthly book selection, “Helter Skelter” by Vincent Bugliosi, it brings to the fore the group’s fascination with true crime, along with a historical perspective on the late 1960s in America. The women touch upon their personal experiences and missed opportunities during that era, highlighting the contrast between their conventional lives and the hedonistic “Summer of Love.” This part of the conversation establishes a connection between past societal events and their current lives, suggesting that the allure of revolutions and cult leaders, depicted in the book, is as relevant today as it was back then.

The chapter also subtly integrates the theme of community safety and vigilance against strangers, reflecting the women’s shared concern over the safety of their neighborhood. This collective paranoia is humorously yet pointedly underscored by their attention to unfamiliar vehicles and the adoption of surveillance tactics, underscoring a contrast between their serene domestic lives and the lurking fear of the external world.

In sum, Chapter 3 offers a rich tapestry of parenting woes, the challenges of maintaining familial harmony, and a collective yearning for simpler times, all set against the backdrop of a genteel Southern ambiance. It underscores the complexities of modern life and the enduring quest for understanding amidst the seemingly mundane but profound acts of daily living.

Upon arriving at the grand residence of Thornfield Estates with Bear, the dog she’s walking, Jane is immediately struck by the house’s impressive architecture, highlighted by a towering front door that curves into an arch. Eddie, the house’s owner, warmly ushers Jane and Bear inside without concern for the wet dog shaking off on the marble floor, illustrating an easygoing and welcoming attitude.

As they move through the house, Jane notes the luxurious yet comfortable decor, contrasting with the sterile aesthetics of similar homes in the area. The living room, adorned with colorful, comfortable furniture and filled with books, suggests a lived-in warmth and a penchant for reading, setting Eddie’s home apart from the usual decorative emptiness Jane observes in other estates.

Introduced to a spacious and gleaming kitchen, Jane engages in conversation with Eddie, who inquires about her background. Jane offers vague details about her past, mentioning a move from the West in search of something new and hinting at fleeing from previous troubles. Eddie, meanwhile, shares bits about his ties to Birmingham through his wife and their decision to purchase additional land for privacy, subtly revealing the absence of his wedding ring.

Their exchange reveals Eddie’s genuine curiosity about Jane, which she reciprocates, relieved to interact with someone showing real interest in her. This comfort allows her to briefly overlook the class divide separating them, as suggested by her living situation in the less affluent Center Point and her journey to finding employment in the wealthier area of Thornfield Estates.

A comparison is made between the emptiness Eddie’s house shares with another resident of Thornfield Estates, Tripp Ingraham, hinting at underlying themes of loneliness and the facade of perfection in affluent communities. The chapter explores themes of identity, the search for belonging, and the stark contrasts between social classes, all while developing a subtle intrigue surrounding Eddie’s personal life and Jane’s past.

In Chapter 3, “Beasts at Bay,” of “The Beasts of Tarzan,” Tarzan faces peril and revenge as he reads a chilling note revealing a plot against his family. Abandoned in the jungle as part of this cruel vengeance, Tarzan’s survival instincts surge. He confronts not just the emotional toll of his family’s endangerment but also immediate physical threats, starting with a deadly encounter with a bull-ape.

Tarzan’s prowess, diminished little by his time away from the wild, is tested in a dramatic confrontation with the ape, a reminder of his unmatched skills honed in the wild. This encounter is a stark throwback to his past, shedding the thin veneer of civilization for the raw ferocity of his childhood in the jungle.

Utilizing his intelligence and the skills gathered from both his life in the jungle and among humans, Tarzan begins crafting tools for survival and defense, emphasizing his adaptability and resourcefulness. He forges a rudimentary knife and hunting gear, highlighting his return to the primal lifestyle he was once eager to leave behind.

The chapter evolves with Tarzan asserting his dominance over the beasts, notably in a fight for supremacy with Akut, the new ape king. By defeating Akut without killing him, Tarzan secures a powerful ally, showcasing his strategic mind and deep understanding of the animal kingdom’s workings.

The narrative also delves into Tarzan’s internal conflict, caught between the civilized world he has known with his family and the wild that calls to his very nature. His reclamation of primal power and animalistic heritage is juxtaposed with the looming threat posed by the note’s author, creating a compelling narrative of survival against both man and nature.

As the chapter closes, Tarzan, now reliant on his instincts and embracing his jungle upbringing, prepares for the challenges that lie ahead, marking a full-circle return to his origins amidst new trials.