“You live a long way, dont you. You’re mighty smart to go this far to town by yourself.” It’s like dancing sitting down did you ever dance sitting down? We could hear the rain, a rat in the crib, the empty barn vacant with horses. How do you hold to dance do you hold like this
Oh
I used to hold like this you thought I wasnt strong enough didn’t you Oh Oh Oh Oh
I hold to use like this I mean did you hear what I said I said oh oh oh oh
The road went on, still and empty, the sun slanting more and more. Her stiff little pigtails were bound at the tips with bits of crimson cloth. A corner of the wrapping flapped a little as she walked, the nose of the loaf naked. I stopped.
“Look here. Do you live down this road? We havent passed a house in a mile, almost.” She looked at me, black and secret and friendly.
“Where do you live, sister? Dont you live back there in town?”
There was a bird somewhere in the woods, beyond the broken and infrequent slanting of sunlight.
“Your papa’s going to be worried about you. Dont you reckon you’ll get a whipping for not coming straight home with that bread?”
The bird whistled again, invisible, a sound meaningless and profound, inflexionless, ceasing as though cut off with the blow of a knife, and again, and that sense of water swift and peacefulabove secret places, felt, not seen not heard.
“Oh, hell, sister.” About half the paper hung limp. “That’s not doing any good now.” I tore it off and dropped it beside the road. “Come on. We’ll have to go back to town. We’ll go back along the river.”
We left the road. Among the moss little pale flowers grew, and the sense of water mute and unseen. I hold to use like this I mean I use to hold She stood in the door looking at us her hands on her hips
You pushed me it was your fault it hurt me too
We were dancing sitting down I bet Caddy cant dance sitting down Stop that stop that
I was just brushing the trash offthe back ofyour dress
You keep your nasty old hands off of me it was your fault you pushed me down I’m mad at you
I dont care she looked at us stay mad she went away We began to hear the shouts, the splashings; I saw a brown body gleamfor an instant.
Stay mad. My shirt was getting wet and my hair. Across the roof hearing the roof loud now I could see Natalie going through the garden among the rain. Get wet I hope you catch pneumonia go on home Cowface. I jumped hard as I could into the hogwallow the mud yellowed up to my waist stinking I kept on plunging until I fell down and rolled over in it “Hear themin swimming, sister? I wouldn’t mind doing that myself.” If I had time. When I have time. I could hear my watch. mud was warmer than the rain it smelled awful. She had her back turned I went around in front of her. You know what I was doing? She turned her back I went around in front of her the rain creeping into the mud flatting her bodice through her dress it smelled horrible. I was hugging her that’s what I was doing. She turned her back I went around in front ofher. I was hugging her I tell you.
I dont give a damn what you were doing
You dont you dont I’ll make you I’ll make you give a damn. She hit my hands away I smeared mud on her with the other hand I couldn’t feel the wet smacking of her hand I wiped mud from my legs smeared it on her wet hard turning body hearing her fingers going into my face but I couldn’t feel it even when the rain began to taste sweet on my lips
They saw us fromthe water first, heads and shoulders. They yelled and one rose squatting and sprang among them. They looked like beavers, the water lipping about their chins, yelling.
“Take that girlaway! What did you want to bring a girlhere for? Go on away!” “She wont hurt you. We just want to watch you for a while.”
They squatted in the water. Their heads drew into a clump, watching us, then they broke and rushed toward us, hurling water with their hands. We moved quick.
“Look out, boys; she wont hurt you.”
“Go on away, Harvard!” It was the second boy, the one that thought the horse and wagon back there at the bridge. “Splash them, fellows!”
“Let’s get out and throw themin,” another said. “I aint afraid of any girl.”
“Splash them! Splash them!” They rushed toward us, hurling water. We moved back. “Go on away!” they yelled. “Go on away!”
We went away. They huddled just under the bank, their slick heads in a row against the bright water. We went on. “That’s not for us, is it.” The sun slanted through to the moss here and there, leveller. “Poor kid, you’re just a girl.” Little flowers grew among the moss, littler than I had ever seen. “You’re just a girl. Poor kid.” There was a path, curving along beside the water. Then the water was still again, dark and still and swift. “Nothing but a girl. Poor sister.” We lay in the wet grass panting the rain like cold shot on my back. Do you care now do you do you
My Lord we sure are in a mess get up. Where the rain touched my forehead it began to smart my hand came red away streaking offpink in the rain. Does it hurt
Ofcourse it does what do you reckon
I tried to scratch your eyes out my Lord we sure do stink we better try to wash it off in the branch “There’s town again, sister. You’ll have to go home now. I’ve got to get back to school. Look how late it’s getting. You’ll go home now, wont you?” But she just looked at me with her black, secret, friendly gaze, the half-naked loaf clutched to her breast. “It’s wet. I thought we jumped back in time.” I took my handkerchief and tried to wipe the loaf, but the crust began to come off, so I stopped. “We’ll just have to let it dry itself. Hold it like this.” She held it like that. It looked kind of like rats had been eating it now. and the water building and building up the squatting back the sloughed mud stinking surfaceward pocking the pattering surface like grease on a hot stove. I told you I’d make you
I dont give a goddam what you do
Then we heard the running and we stopped and looked back and saw him coming up the path running, the levelshadows flicking upon his legs.
“He’s in a hurry. We’d—” then I saw another man, an oldish man running heavily, clutching a stick, and a boy naked fromthe waist up, clutching his pants as he ran.
“There’s Julio,” the little girl said, and then I saw his Italian face and his eyes as he sprang upon me. We went down. His hands were jabbing at my face and he was saying something and trying to bite me, I reckon, and then they hauled him off and held him heaving and thrashing and yelling and they held his arms and he tried to kick me untilthey dragged himback. The little girlwas howling, holding the loaf in both arms. The half-naked boy was darting and jumping up and down, clutching his trousers and someone pulled me up in time to see another stark naked figure come around the tranquil bend in the path running and change direction in midstride and leap into the woods, a couple of garments rigid as boards behind it. Julio still struggled. The man who had pulled me up said, “Whoa, now. We got you.” He wore a vest but no coat. Upon it was a metalshield. In his other hand he clutched a knotted, polished stick.
“You’re Anse, aren’t you?” I said. “I was looking for you. What’s the matter?”
“I warn you that anything you say will be used against you,” he said. “You’re under arrest.”
“I killa heem,” Julio said. He struggled. Two men held him. The little girl howled steadily, holding the bread. “You steala my seester,” Julio said. “Let go, meesters.”
“Stealhis sister?” I said. “Why, I’ve been—” “Shet up,” Anse said. “You can tellthat to Squire.”
“Steal his sister?” I said. Julio broke fromthe men and sprang at me again, but the marshall
met him and they struggled until the other two pinioned his arms again. Anse released him, panting.
“You durn furriner,” he said, “I’ve a good mind to take you up too, for assault and battery.” He turned to me again. “Willyou come peaceable, or do I handcuff you?”
“I’ll come peaceable,” I said. “Anything, just so I can find someone—do something with— Stole his sister,” I said. “Stole his—”
“I’ve warned you,” Anse said, “He aims to charge you with meditated criminal assault. Here, you, make that galshut up that noise.”
“Oh,” I said. Then I began to laugh. Two more boys with plastered heads and round eyes came out of the bushes, buttoning shirts that had already dampened onto their shoulders and arms, and I tried to stop the laughter, but I couldnt.
“Watch him, Anse, he’s crazy, I believe.”
“I’ll h-have to qu-quit,” I
