Page 21 of They Call Her Dirty Sally

“Don’t you know what ‘fired’ means? I don’t have a job anymore, and there ain’t another one coming either. Once a company blackballs you, once people blame you for things you didn’t do, you’re out of the whole town. That’s the way it works around here. You’re just too young to know it.”

Her temper flared like his, so she bit down on the inside of her cheek. Her papa didn’t hit, but he sometimes struck with words. She hated being told she was too young worse than she hated bedtime. She wasn’t too young to feed him dinner, was she? She wasn’t too young to carry their smelly clothes to the creek and wash them with lye soap until her knuckles turned bloody, was she? She wasn’t too young to learn math even though she hated it, was she? But he always used her age when he wanted her to stop talking. Like it was her fault she was only born seven years ago.

“How will we buy anything if you don’t have a job?” Her papa looked at her with steel in his eyes, so she bit her cheek harder.

“We won’t.”

Sally swallowed. How would they eat? What about the new shoes he promised because her big toe was sticking out of both these old ones? What about her new blanket for keeping the cold air out so she would stop shivering at night?

Even though her tongue itched with the need to form all the words, Sally quietly walked upstairs to bed. Her tummy was still hungry, and she kept thinking about that apple. Once you get started thinking about something, the only way to make it go away is to force it.

Thirty minutes later, the apple was gone right along with her papa’s foul mood. She found him laid out on the kitchen table, head on his arms and snoring away. When she tiptoed down to clear his dirty dinner plate, she didn’t look at the old picture of her momma that he’d pulled out of his pocket that lay discarded on the table. Or the rag he’d used to wipe his nose.

Not even when she used it to dry the drops of alcohol and tears left behind on the table.

“You’re doing it all wrong,”Paul said, coming up beside her to sit on the hard ground by the creek bank. “You can’t keep pulling the rod out to check on things, or the fish won’t have time to bite. Did no one ever teach you that?”

Sally glanced over at him and bugged out her eyes. “Did no one ever teach you that you’re not supposed to talk when you’re trying to fish? You’ll scare them all away with your noise.”

“You’re one to talk. You’re always making noise when you ain’t busy climbing other people’s trees. Catch anything yet?”

She checked her line again, mad to find it still empty. “How do you expect I’d catch any when I’m doing it all wrong?”

He shrugged. “I thought maybe what you didn’t have in skill, you might have in luck. Here. Gimme that pole.” He took the maple sapling out of her hand without asking, yanked off the only thin thread she could find and pulled real fishing line out of his pocket. “Even if you did manage to catch a fish, this string would break right off. You need this kind of line and one of these,” he added, pulling out a box of new hooks so shiny it made her heart pound. “See over there?” he nodded a few feet away. “I already have four trout on the line.” She saw them wiggling under the surface, and her mouth watered. Normally she liked to talk to the fish like they were her friends, but today her stomach was so empty she couldn’t see them as anything but a way to fill it. Maybe tomorrow, they’d get back to having a nicer relationship.

“How’d you catch all those? I’ve been here since after school, and I never saw you.”

“Jack and I were on the other side of the hill,” Paul said. Sally looked around for Jack, but she couldn’t see him. He was nine like Paul but a little bit taller and a whole lot clumsier. The three of them were the only kids who lived out this far, almost on the edge of town. The boys never talked to her at school, mainly because she was in second grade and they were in fourth, but after school, it was always the three of them. They were both nice enough, even though Paul was the first to say she didn’t do a lot of things right. “Last I saw, he was trying to catch a bullfrog. Said he wants one for a pet.”

“I got one too!” Jack hollered, walking toward them and holding up the fattest, greenest bullfrog Sally had ever seen in this pond. It croaked, and both boys laughed.

“You really think your momma’s going to let you keep that?” she asked.

“I won’t tell her. I’ll keep it in a box behind the house, and she won’t ever know. So, keep your trap shut, okay?”

Sally shrugged. She didn’t know why Jack thought she would tell anyone. Hardly anyone in this town talked to her at all. Most didn’t even look at her because they thought her papa was good for nothing like Miss Hannah said. Still, she played along because pretending to belong was a whole lot better than knowing you didn’t fit.

“Catch me a fish, and I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart.” She might as well get something for not ratting him out.

When Jack reached for the pole, Paul shoved his hand away. “I’m catching you a fish, aren’t I? It’s my string and my hook, so I’ll do it.”

A warm feeling passed through Sally as she leaned back and tucked her hands behind her head to look at the sky. It was nice being taken care of for a moment, almost nicer than the sunset, with its red, purple, and orange streaks slashing across the night. Before she knew it, the water started making splashing noises. She sat up fast. Those were really loud noises.

“You already caught one?” She couldn’t help the little bounce in her seat any more than she could stop her stomach from growling. Tonight, they were gonna have fish! She caught sight of it in the water, and it was a big one.

“I told you I would,” Paul said, breathing heavy. It was hard work pulling a large fish in from a thin sapling. “Quick, get the net so you can catch him before he lets go of the hook. Hurry, Sally.” She scrambled for the net but conked heads with Jack in the process.

“Ouch!” they both said at the same time, falling back on the grass.

“If you two would stop goofing off and get over here, I could use some help.” Paul was getting impatient, so Sally snatched the net off the ground and plunged her feet in the water, shoes and all. She scooped the net down and back up with the fish caught inside. It was bigger than she thought and so wiggly that it was hard to hold. Paul took the net from her and finished the job, bringing the fish up and out, all three kids jumping and hollering about the size of it. A granddaddy fish, for sure. The patriarch of the whole lake. They would have fish for days.

“You’re really gonna let her keep that one, Paul?” Jack said, and that sobered Sally up fast because what if he didn’t? It was his hook and line that caught it, after all. Her stomach growled again in near fright.

But Paul just winked at her. “Of course. She earned it fair and square. You should try and catch her one too, Jack,” he added, and Sally nearly giggled. If there was one thing that Jack liked less than being one-upped, it was giving people something for nothing. If Jack ever caught her swiping a squash from his family garden, he’d tattle to his pa. He definitely wouldn’t bring her bread to go with it.

“Fine, I will,” Jack said, surprising them both. Sally nearly laughed at the way Paul looked at her, all wiggly eyes and twisting mouth like Jack was lying like they shared a secret no one else knew. Honestly, not even her. Maybe Jack really would catch her a fish. Whether he did or not, it was nice to have friends.

It was the best day ever.