There were Spanish kids
and Indian kids
and they called me Gringo.
I kept telling them
over and over
that my name was Lynne.
They laughed at me
and tried to trip me.
At recess, I ran out to get on the swings
and a boy ran up behind me and knocked me off the seat
and I fell with my nose in the dust.
Then a big girl who was in my class
named Ramona
pushed the boy away from my swing
helped me up
and held it while I sat back down.
But she never spoke to me again.
Nobody did.
Daddy didn't like his job.
He missed the railroad
as soon as he found out there was a slaughterhouse out back
of the meat packing plant.
He had to walk across the kill floor
slick with blood and hair and guts
where cows and hogs were stunned by a hammerblow
to their heads
strung up
their throats cut
stripped of their hides
cut up into steaks and ham.
Mom was having a hard time too
If she turned on a faucet, it might or might not work.
If she flipped on a light switch, it might or might not work.
If she flushed the toilet, it might or might not work.
so Daddy would always put a bucket of water in the bathroom
just in case.
Daddy didn't whistle all the time like he used to.
Mom didn't sing much.
We needed help.
So we joined a church.
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