By Daphne Hall I’ve never been before, unless you count when I was born (Mom doesn’t). She wanted out of there quicker than a bull in a rodeo, which sounds very Texas to me. When I ask why, she talks about her daddy, my papa, and reminisces about him before his mind got lost. There’s nothing left for us in Tallahassee. Except I got friends there—and a cat that I’d sneak food out to when Mom wasn’t looking. She says that I’ll make new friends in Commerce and even get a dog. When I told her I wanted a cat she glared at me. Texas is dog country. But I’ve…