The Hoyden3

1970

"Mason Grey Eckhart! What are you doing?"

I could hear my mother's footsteps closing in behind me. I knew she'd pull me away from Nicki, but before she did, I was going to take a few more whacks at Nicki, who had bitten my left arm and clawed my face.

My mother grabbed me under the armpits, lifting me up and away from the battle. Nicki went flat and limp in the dirt.

"O dear God, what do you think you are doing beating up a girl?"

I could see Nicki, but Mom couldn't. Nicki raised her head up from the dirt just long enough to smirk at me. Then she lay flat again.

"She beat up Marc!"

Mom looked at me, half-believing, half wondering if it was possible. I habitually told the truth.

"She did what?"

"Beat up Marc. On the school bus. Hit him in the head with her geography book."

"And why did she do that?"

"She wanted the window seat and he wouldn't give it to her. I had already given her my seat, Mom."

"Where is Marc?"

"Up there."

My twin, my other self Marc, had scrambled up the tree to escape the claws and fangs of Nicki. Well, Marc was like me, but not quite: never quite as strong or fast or tough as me. If we both got sick, he'd always stay sick longer. He couldn't help it. Marc tried, really tried to do everything I did, but the only thing we were equally good at was school. Right now he was peering down at mom through the leaves and branches like a treed cat.

"You told me to look out for him."

Nobody but Nicki dared pick on Marc because they knew they'd have to face me.

"Mason, you cannot hit girls. It's barbaric. Only the lowest sort hit women or girls."

"Nicki doesn't play like a girl, talk like a girl, and she doesn't fight like a girl. She bit both of us."

Nicki continued to sprawl in the dirt, eyes closed. She didn't fool me.

My mother turned to Nicki. "Miss Carter, I know you hear every word and are merely playing possum. I am not fooled." Nicki sat up and brushed dust from her arms.

"Young ladies do not get into fights with boys."

"I wanted the window seat."

"We cannot always have what we want."

"My daddy says we should always go after what we want." Nicki put her small hands on her hips as she said this.

"Damn Yankee," my mother muttered softly, although my father was a Yankee, too. "Marc, come on down from there."

Marc did as he was told.

"Let me see your bites." We dutifully showed Nicki's bitemarks. Then Mom got a good look at my face, where Nicki had drawn blood. "That's going to scar, Mason." She turned to Nicki.

"Miss Carter, I am going to have to speak to your mother about this. I am sure she does not want her daughter biting and scratching others."

"She's my step-mother. She can't do anything to me!"

"But your father can, and I am sure she will talk to him." Nicki's expression darkened at that. "Now, I think you should go home. I'll be over as soon as I clean up Mason's scratches."

Nicki scrambled to her feet and ran off into the alley behind the houses.

"Mason, we've got to clean out that scratch. It's deep. Wretched hoyden probably had filthy fingers, too." We started walking towards our house.