“That’s DIRT—an’ that’s what YOU are!”
“That’s where it belongs on the road—where YOU are too!—We’ve all put up with your meanness all year and had ENOUGH now—and we don’t like choking on this stuff—how are you liking it?” She screeched at him.
“Do YOU like breathing this dirt?” She was now clearly feeling her power over him.
“You like choking on this nasty stuff?” She continued.
“You BETTER like this dirt cause that’s all you’re EVER gonna see if you don’t leave me and the girls alone and stop kicking dirt up on us.” She yelled above the hubbub of the small crowd.
The boy looked around at the kids surrounding them and at least a small sense of his pride returned and his face turned crafty as he decided and acted all in one moment to try to unseat the girl from atop him. But the girl was again gratified as his struggle was for naught and his feeble attempt met her iron-strong muscles and a deeper fear shocked his face.
“You feel them muscles holdin’ you down boy?” She asked triumphantly.
“THAT’S what you get when your ole’ man runs a saw mill and you gotta help him cut YOUR family’s wood everyday after school while you run around laughing at people who are doing their work,” she sneered at him.
“See what muscles YOU get from wastin’ all YOUR time runnin’ around irritatin’ people? Again you better get used to eatin’ and breathin’ this dirt cause you’re gonna be down here a whole lot if you keep on like you are.” She was satisfied with the look of resignation that spread across his face.
She didn’t let up—even as the other boys began to taunt the kids she held roughly against the dirt. She wasn’t ABOUT to let him fool her and get the better of her. She liked the feel of her muscles flexed but hardly even straining to hold him down.
Though she hated the work that she had to do everyday helping to run the saw mill, and she hated the farm her Dad had finally been able to buy with money that they’d scrimped and saved for years, and she hated the small town that she was forced to live in, and she hated—most of all—this red fine powdery dirt that took ANY excuse to fly up and into one’s face, nose, and lungs. Still she was glad for the stronger muscles that allowed her to keep this maddening boy so easily pinned face on the road puffing in and out the fine red powder.
