T-R-O-U-B-L-E

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Even then I knew the difference between trouble and T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

Six-and-a-half years old and I'd just tried to climb a date palm in Death Valley, to latch onto one of those big chewy bundles. In shorts. Didn't make it. Got scared. Carved myself up trying to slither back down. Hurt, but I never cried when I was alone, which is the only time I cry now.

There were these ditches with a little water and lots of mud. So I washed the blood off and rubbed mud all over my legs. Then, I tried eating the windfall dates. Some of 'em were rotten, I guess. If it tasted bad, I'd spit it out and cuss: Damnyouhellsonofabitch.

Even the good ones weren't so good. Gritty and mushy. Then I looked over at the Dodge and saw Dad and his girlfriend. I couldn't tell if they were drunk. But he was about to yell for me, so I let out a whoop and started running towards the car. Forgot about the mud. Damnhellsonofabitch.

They were drunk alright. Dad cussed and got me by the arm and hauled me over to this outdoor faucet with a rubber hose and turned it on and started to squirt me. Damn hose was black, under a Death Valley noon sun at about a hundred-and-fifty degrees. Even I knew what was going to happen just before the water hit my legs.

Tried to jump, but he got me a good one. Burned the living shit out of my legs and soaked my Keds with that boiling ol' water. Then the water got cold and I yelped like a dog. He didn't care. Just kept right on. I was cussing and howling at the top of my lungs and this old guy came running out of the Furnace Creek Store. He yelled at my Dad to shut the water off goddammit, that stuff don't grow on trees down here.

My Dad told him to go suck on a rock or something. This old woman, the old guy's wife I guess, came out and took one look at my legs and let out a screech. Between the palm-tree cuts and the scalding water, they didn't look too awful good. Lord, that old woman could holler.

I wasn't cryin' or nothin', just mad. I was about to say something like What the hell you lookin' at you damn old Bat. But I didn't get to.

What in the hell's the matter with you, Dad yelled back, this here's my daughter and I'm just washing your precious goddam mud off.

She kept yelling about torturing a poor little defenseless child and callin' the sheriff and went bangin' back in through the screendoor wham.

Way she's het up, the old man said, I expect she's callin' that Lee Silvie.

Who's that? Dad said.

That's the deputy.