I’m getting dressed. Still ain’t put my shoes on!
Do you know what some boys say about you?
I don’t care. It ain’t true.
I know that, I said. I know it. But you stand there all day looking like that, it won’t matter. People gonna think it’s true anyway. So why not dress regular? Why not go put a dress on like you used to and wash your face. Will you do it?
Billy? she said.
Yar? I said.
Go to fuckin’ hell, she says. Then she turns around and goes inside, screen door smackin’ shut behind her.
I went up my room. Was tired from all day working, but that didn’t matter, and when I lay down I could think of nothing but what the hell was going on with the coat and the house and the boxes, and who that damn man was who come in the room, who also got full rights to go in Miss Gurpy’s, if them boxes tell it right.
I rolled over and was just about to shut my eyes when I stopped.
Saw them mittens on the floor where I threw’m.
I laughed, thinking ’bout how they could be jewels instead of mittens if I’d been smart enough.
But I got an idea. Maybe these mittens is worth something, but I just don’t know what. So I sat up and reached over and took’m in my hands. I looked at’m for a while, a good five minutes, turning’m this way and that. I’m thinkin’ maybe I got’m, took’m, for a reason, and I sit there trying to figure it out.
But I can’t. Too damn tired, for one thing.
Then I hear something. A car. Out front. Big engine sound like a truck revving, just faster, and a radio real loud with some singer screeching like he’s falling off a cliff.
Now like I said, Leezie’d been going out most nights, and never saying who with. Made me real curious, her doing that, ’specially how she weren’t payin’ no mind at all to the curfew. I thought findin’ out just where she’s goin’ and who with might sort’f clue me in to what she’s up to, ’cause she ain’t a girl to say what she’s gonna do but just goes ’head and does it.
So I jumped up fast and run downstairs and when I come in the hall I find Leezie standing there, ready to go out.
Who’s here? I say.
’S my date, Leezie says.
I dodge out front to the porch and look. Car’s down there parked in the street, a big GTO, old car but all souped up, painted slate gray with a six on the side, in red. Has an engine scoop stickin’ up through the hood and back tires wider than truck tires but with no tread, slicks is what they called.
Sitting in it is a boy I know who got this long frizzy hair, yellow, and arms folded to show off his muscles, tattoos all over the goddamn place.
Leezie comes out.
You going out with him? I say.
Why not! she says.
That’s Bad-Ass Ricky!
His name is Ricky Morgan, Leezie says, like I don’t know.
Leezie, you can’t go out with him! He’s the worst boy around! He tried to get me to rob Shatze’s once! I seen him in the back of squad cars plenty of times!
Go to hell, Billy, she says. I like him! He treats me real nice! He’s taking me to the circus!
She’s trying to sound bold, but I can tell she’s embarrassed a little.
I say, Don’t do it, Leezie! He don’t respect girls. Tell him to go away.
She glares at me, her face so colored it looks wild.
He talks dirty ’bout’m, I said.
She goes to smack me and I duck.
Ain’t lying! I say.
Down there Ricky, he come out the car and is leaning against it, not coming up ’cause the damn fool’s stopped in the middle of the street. Leezie, she goes down, walking in that gonna-fall stilt-walk girls got walking in them spike shoes. And she goes up and the bastard puts his arm around her.
Hiya, Ricky! I say. I’m tryin’ to sound friendly ’cause I seen this bastard get violent, beat the shit outta plenty of boys for no damn reason at all, and I sure don’t want him mad at me.
He don’t answer but just raises his hand and squints and makes like a pistol with his fingers and fires, and then laughs, the fucker. Wearin’ an Iron
Do you know what some boys say about you?
I don’t care. It ain’t true.
I know that, I said. I know it. But you stand there all day looking like that, it won’t matter. People gonna think it’s true anyway. So why not dress regular? Why not go put a dress on like you used to and wash your face. Will you do it?
Billy? she said.
Yar? I said.
Go to fuckin’ hell, she says. Then she turns around and goes inside, screen door smackin’ shut behind her.
I went up my room. Was tired from all day working, but that didn’t matter, and when I lay down I could think of nothing but what the hell was going on with the coat and the house and the boxes, and who that damn man was who come in the room, who also got full rights to go in Miss Gurpy’s, if them boxes tell it right.
I rolled over and was just about to shut my eyes when I stopped.
Saw them mittens on the floor where I threw’m.
I laughed, thinking ’bout how they could be jewels instead of mittens if I’d been smart enough.
But I got an idea. Maybe these mittens is worth something, but I just don’t know what. So I sat up and reached over and took’m in my hands. I looked at’m for a while, a good five minutes, turning’m this way and that. I’m thinkin’ maybe I got’m, took’m, for a reason, and I sit there trying to figure it out.
But I can’t. Too damn tired, for one thing.
Then I hear something. A car. Out front. Big engine sound like a truck revving, just faster, and a radio real loud with some singer screeching like he’s falling off a cliff.
Now like I said, Leezie’d been going out most nights, and never saying who with. Made me real curious, her doing that, ’specially how she weren’t payin’ no mind at all to the curfew. I thought findin’ out just where she’s goin’ and who with might sort’f clue me in to what she’s up to, ’cause she ain’t a girl to say what she’s gonna do but just goes ’head and does it.
So I jumped up fast and run downstairs and when I come in the hall I find Leezie standing there, ready to go out.
Who’s here? I say.
’S my date, Leezie says.
I dodge out front to the porch and look. Car’s down there parked in the street, a big GTO, old car but all souped up, painted slate gray with a six on the side, in red. Has an engine scoop stickin’ up through the hood and back tires wider than truck tires but with no tread, slicks is what they called.
Sitting in it is a boy I know who got this long frizzy hair, yellow, and arms folded to show off his muscles, tattoos all over the goddamn place.
Leezie comes out.
You going out with him? I say.
Why not! she says.
That’s Bad-Ass Ricky!
His name is Ricky Morgan, Leezie says, like I don’t know.
Leezie, you can’t go out with him! He’s the worst boy around! He tried to get me to rob Shatze’s once! I seen him in the back of squad cars plenty of times!
Go to hell, Billy, she says. I like him! He treats me real nice! He’s taking me to the circus!
She’s trying to sound bold, but I can tell she’s embarrassed a little.
I say, Don’t do it, Leezie! He don’t respect girls. Tell him to go away.
She glares at me, her face so colored it looks wild.
He talks dirty ’bout’m, I said.
She goes to smack me and I duck.
Ain’t lying! I say.
Down there Ricky, he come out the car and is leaning against it, not coming up ’cause the damn fool’s stopped in the middle of the street. Leezie, she goes down, walking in that gonna-fall stilt-walk girls got walking in them spike shoes. And she goes up and the bastard puts his arm around her.
Hiya, Ricky! I say. I’m tryin’ to sound friendly ’cause I seen this bastard get violent, beat the shit outta plenty of boys for no damn reason at all, and I sure don’t want him mad at me.
He don’t answer but just raises his hand and squints and makes like a pistol with his fingers and fires, and then laughs, the fucker. Wearin’ an Iron
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