one ankle, he dragged her over to a pile of hay. He yanked her dress up and her drawers down and climbed on top of her. She said the sounds he made while he raped her reminded her of how the hog sounded when it was being killed.
When Gideon finished he became enraged and slapped her face again and again. He said it was her fault he’d fallen into sin and it was her fault his brother had killed himself; he was sure Darla had tried to tempt his brother into doing what Gideon had just done and he had to kill himself to keep from doing it. As he got up and buttoned his britches he told her not to tell anybody what had happened or else he’d throw her down the well then say she’d killed herself because she couldn’t live with all the lies she’d been telling.
She ran away, but Gideon called the sheriff on her and he caught her and she was back on Gideon’s farm in less than a day.
Gideon told her if she was going to act like some kind of sorry no-account dog that wouldn’t stay in the yard unless it was tied up then that was how he was going to have to treat her. He chained her to the stove. He brought her food and water twice a day, and the only time he let her loose was to go to the outhouse. He’d go with her and stand in the door to make sure she didn’t run off.
Darla said that after about a week she wrapped the chain around her neck and tried to strangle herself, but it hurt too bad so she gave up.
Finally one night her aunt Bess crept out of the bedroom, wearing a flowing white nightgown that made her look like a ghost. She had a key. Darla could hear Gideon snoring as Bess unlocked the padlock. She whispered: “Now you just run, honey, you run away fast as you can. I’d go with you if I could.” So Darla snuck out of the house and ran down the road and the sheriff didn’t catch her this time.
She walked for two days, hiding whenever a car went past, till she happened upon a hobo jungle near a railroad yard. Three hoboes were cooking some stew and Darla was starving and they fed her. She stayed with them a few days and they were really nice to her. Darla said it was kind of like a Shirley Temple movie, three loveable tramps adopting a cute little runaway girl; one of the tramps even looked and talked like Wallace Beery, but then they all got liquored up one night and tore off her clothes and took turns with her.
So she ran off again. She hitchhiked. She tried to accept rides only with older husband-and-wife-looking couples who seemed unlikely to attack her. When asked what her story was, it never occurred to her to tell the truth; she would just say she was on her way home after visiting relatives. Her rides would often feed her and sometimes give her a buck or two.
Darla drifted eastward across the country; her only goal was to put as much distance as possible between herself and Nebraska. That summer she got caught in a thunderstorm out on a road in Indiana. She’d always been terrified of lightning and so she jumped in the first car that stopped.
It was a Model A Ford driven by a young Army lieutenant. Within ten minutes his hand was on her knee and headed north. She sunk her teeth in his arm and he yelled and she opened the door and flung herself out.
She bounced and tumbled in the rain till she came to a stop with her left arm sticking out at a crazy angle. The lieutenant’s car slowed down a minute then sped away.
Darla found herself just outside the city limits of Elwood, Indiana. She walked into town, her broken arm hanging. Lightning struck a tree in front of her and a big limb fell down on the ground. She saw a sign in front of a house that said: Woodrow Ames, M.D.
Dr. Ames turned out to be a tall silver-haired old man who set her arm with gentleness and skill. He complimented Darla for not crying or crying out. He was nearly finished when she started getting bad stomach pains then blood came pouring out from between her legs. He called to his wife to come and help, and the Ameses and
When Gideon finished he became enraged and slapped her face again and again. He said it was her fault he’d fallen into sin and it was her fault his brother had killed himself; he was sure Darla had tried to tempt his brother into doing what Gideon had just done and he had to kill himself to keep from doing it. As he got up and buttoned his britches he told her not to tell anybody what had happened or else he’d throw her down the well then say she’d killed herself because she couldn’t live with all the lies she’d been telling.
She ran away, but Gideon called the sheriff on her and he caught her and she was back on Gideon’s farm in less than a day.
Gideon told her if she was going to act like some kind of sorry no-account dog that wouldn’t stay in the yard unless it was tied up then that was how he was going to have to treat her. He chained her to the stove. He brought her food and water twice a day, and the only time he let her loose was to go to the outhouse. He’d go with her and stand in the door to make sure she didn’t run off.
Darla said that after about a week she wrapped the chain around her neck and tried to strangle herself, but it hurt too bad so she gave up.
Finally one night her aunt Bess crept out of the bedroom, wearing a flowing white nightgown that made her look like a ghost. She had a key. Darla could hear Gideon snoring as Bess unlocked the padlock. She whispered: “Now you just run, honey, you run away fast as you can. I’d go with you if I could.” So Darla snuck out of the house and ran down the road and the sheriff didn’t catch her this time.
She walked for two days, hiding whenever a car went past, till she happened upon a hobo jungle near a railroad yard. Three hoboes were cooking some stew and Darla was starving and they fed her. She stayed with them a few days and they were really nice to her. Darla said it was kind of like a Shirley Temple movie, three loveable tramps adopting a cute little runaway girl; one of the tramps even looked and talked like Wallace Beery, but then they all got liquored up one night and tore off her clothes and took turns with her.
So she ran off again. She hitchhiked. She tried to accept rides only with older husband-and-wife-looking couples who seemed unlikely to attack her. When asked what her story was, it never occurred to her to tell the truth; she would just say she was on her way home after visiting relatives. Her rides would often feed her and sometimes give her a buck or two.
Darla drifted eastward across the country; her only goal was to put as much distance as possible between herself and Nebraska. That summer she got caught in a thunderstorm out on a road in Indiana. She’d always been terrified of lightning and so she jumped in the first car that stopped.
It was a Model A Ford driven by a young Army lieutenant. Within ten minutes his hand was on her knee and headed north. She sunk her teeth in his arm and he yelled and she opened the door and flung herself out.
She bounced and tumbled in the rain till she came to a stop with her left arm sticking out at a crazy angle. The lieutenant’s car slowed down a minute then sped away.
Darla found herself just outside the city limits of Elwood, Indiana. She walked into town, her broken arm hanging. Lightning struck a tree in front of her and a big limb fell down on the ground. She saw a sign in front of a house that said: Woodrow Ames, M.D.
Dr. Ames turned out to be a tall silver-haired old man who set her arm with gentleness and skill. He complimented Darla for not crying or crying out. He was nearly finished when she started getting bad stomach pains then blood came pouring out from between her legs. He called to his wife to come and help, and the Ameses and
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