SALVADORE ¬ DISTRICT ELEVEN ¬ IRRIGATION TECHNITIAN

I bin handlin' them ornery folk livin' in them houses snug as bugs since I were jus' a small lil' thin' ans let me tell yous, them folks ain't good. They's been lyin' ter yer as if's yer was a newborn doe jus' walkin' on shakin' new legs 'cause thems liars when's they say tha' they love them neighbors of them. I reckon right quicka tha' if ya's spoke ter them real slick yous migh' could jus' catch 'em in their slippery snake game 'a there's an's make 'em sweat worser than a whore in church.

They's all preachin' that preacher's talk 'a bein' good so's they won' be goin; on ter hell an' all's but thems ain't the ones who practice it an's I know firs' han' 'cause them hedge sittin' trumpets been worser than jumped up lil' devilish snakes in tha' grass 'ter the likes 'a me, jus' 'cause my ma weren't no saint.

My Ma made me up in 'er 'ead outter them holy ideas 'a husban' an' wife but I ain't ther one who chose ter be here but it's me that gits all ther flick 'n flack fer it. See, from what I kin rope tergether from ther drink rambles 'a Ed, my Ma were a young thin' who had a head fulla 'em junebugs an' when my Pa came alon' with them slick ways 'a his, she fell right quick fer his tricks. He had two littlies an' a wife ter call his own but y Ma were too temptin' fer 'im an' he lusted affa' her so sweet. She were young I reckon an' so's she let 'im tumble her an' was of ther thinkin' tha' my Pa loved her.

Whenna' any of 'em sweet neighbors 'a mine talka my Ma, they call 'er 'Ther Whore' an' I'm jus' 'Ther Bastard' but it ain' by choice. It ain' my name afferall, 'm Salvador. 'N I only go ter church with 'em neighbors seein' as iffin' I weren' goin' they'd strung me up long ago right quick, seein' as when they was baptizin' me, I punched one 'a them in ther face an' I guiss it means tha' I'm got some devil inside 'a me.

I reckon I punched 'em 'cause they was drownin' me an' 'asides ther fac' tha' I'm afraid 'a water since I seen my Ma drownin' herself in all these dreams 'a mine.

It's true I reckon.

She lef' me all alone 'cause she wen' an' kilt herself affa' all them kin' folk was so ornery ter her. A' leas' tha' what Ed been tellin' me. He say he fished her body outta tha river hisself an' tha' why it dried uppa on us.

People sayin' the drought came 'cause we was not fearin' god enough.

Fuck God, he ain' never done nothin' fer me 'cept make ever'one hate me fer livin'. Can I live? 's all I'm wonnerin' 'bout. Guiss not though.

Ed an I, we's keep ther ear-row-gay-shun system runnin' so's ever'ne else kin git water fer them crops 'a there's an's so's we's can all stay fed. When the water all wen' years ago, many 'a us died. I almos' died 'cause accordin' ter Ed I'm a stubborn bitch who weren' gonna be takin' his water from 'im. I were close ter death but I din' die seein' as all them folk came ter help us out. Even ther likes 'a me.

Folk threw rocks a' me 'afore then but I reckon it got worse after. Grieven' folk who wonnered why them godfearin' Pa's an' Ma's a them died an' me, Satan reborn were alrigh'. They were thinkin' it weren' fair.

Ter be fuckin' brutally hones', I ain' givin' no fucks 'bout them sneakin' sniffen' rats, good riddance.

Aight, I reckon that`s a lie a sorts but don`t go tellin` no one `cause I ain` no sobbin` pansy an` I certain ain` likin` the likes a them neighbors a mine. Las` time a rock near hit my eye righ` outta my face. I don` know why thems lil` maggoty church goin` devil spawn hate me so much but `parently thems all`s thinkin` my Ma was some temptin`siren witch, so`s that makes me Satan`s spawn I `spose.

Oh well.

Them`s that`s beggin` can`t be choosin`.

Ed reckons people would like me better iffin` I took care `a my pers'nal hygienics more but that there is rich comin' from 'im. He's near bad as me. I got spots a dirt all over me from workin' all damned day long. Grease gits on my skin easy from the system an' there's only so of'en I kin clean my clothin'. I bin' growin' real fas' an' seein' as I kin barely affor' ter fill my belly I can' be buyin' new clothes every week.

So's I patch my own clothes jus' like Ed learned me how. He learn'me much that folk ain' taught me. All's theys done is han' me some real nice sunday clothes an' make me go ter church every damned week like I ain' got nothin' better ter do.

Don' them assholes know tha' ear-oh-gay-shun systum don' fix herself?

They makin' me sin' them chicken-shit songs in church instead, like it'll save me from goin' ter hell.

(I don' give a rat's tail bone.)

Hell seems betterin' Heaven, specifics iffin them neighbor's a mine wen' there, 'cause jesus chris', god knows them ass-kissen' egg-butterin' twits weren' no fun. They's was always given me haircuts an' tellin' me about how aportan' 'pearance is.

I dunner.

I wis stan'in in front 'a ther mirror in ther church bathroom an' it is cracked an' all bu' I reckon I ain' look too bad. I am taller than I used ter be which I reckon is a good thing. People ten' ter leave me ter myself more as I look more intimidatin'.

Maybe ther muscles help a bit too.

It's hard work whats me an' Ed do. I gotta keep fit ter keep goin' all day. Ed's teached me all tha' he knows 'cause accordin' ter him one day he'll keel over an' I'll be ther only poor sod lef' ter keep ever'one damp instead 'a dry. Ed never got no thanks fer it neither. Folk treat him bad too 'cause way back he fell in love wit' a witch. It were real tragic, 'parently. She din' love him back, drove him mad wi' grief when she died.

So's mos' folk leave him alone 'cause he's mad 'n all. Eve'y now an' then they give him food 'cause they's feel sorry fer 'im. Ed's bin takin' care af me sincin' my brain kin know it. Dunno why. People trea' him bad fer it. I aske' him once bu' he telled me tha' it weren' my business an' I guiss tha' is tha'.

I'm glad I got 'im anyway.

It' be lonely all alone.