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was dry and there was a catch in my throat.
    â€œI thought you might be lost,” he said, a little short of breath. My heart jumped, for I’d never been alone with him in the woods before. I took another step back. I turned and pushed a limb aside. My leg was still mostly asleep.
    â€œThere’s something I wanted to tell you,” Mr. Griffin said.
    â€œYou can tell my mama,” I said.
    â€œDon’t concern your mama,” Mr. Griffin said.
    As I stepped through the pine trees he followed. I didn’t want to look back. As I stepped faster he speeded up. “I wanted just a word with you,” he said.
    I figured if I could get to the edge of the field, to the open field, I’d be safe. If I could get close enough to the house, Mama would see me and hear me if I hollered out. Limbs slapped my face and twigs hit me in the eye. Mr. Griffin touched my shoulder and I ducked down. He was a little bigger than me and stronger than me.
    â€œJust a word,” he said.
    I crashed against limbs and slammed into a tree when I looked back. I stumbled and Mr. Griffin grabbed me by the waist. I twisted as hard as I could and lunged in the direction of the field. He stumbled and lost his grip and I began running again, limping as the feeling came back into my leg.
    But as I reached the edge of the woods I saw I’d gotten lost in my panic. Instead of the field right behind the house, I came out near the branch, down where the hogpen was. We had two shoats in a log pen down there, far enough from the house so you didn’t smell them.
    Mr. Griffin came crashing after me. I figured once I got to the open I’d run fast as I could before Mr. Griffin caught me, and then I’d scream.
    But the instant I stepped out into the open Mr. Griffin grabbed me. And when I tried to twist out of his grip I saw the look on his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes looked drunk. I reckon the running hadroused him up. I’d never seen a man so roused up. He was trembling he was so excited. Seeing such excitement, I wanted to run, and I wanted to give up. I’d never felt like that before. I was out of breath and confused.
    Mr. Griffin grabbed at my dress and tore it so one of my bosoms was exposed. He held me by the waist and tore the dress more.
    â€œNo!” I said, and hit him with my elbows. I wrenched around and my dress tore worse, and we both fell to the ground.
    The dirt around the hogpen was a mess because the filth inside the pen spilled out between the logs and spread in the weeds and grass. The mud was thick as jelly.
    The filth that squeezed out of the hogpen had dried and soaked into the weeds. Rain had spread the stink farther but washed it thin. The dirt near the trees smelled like manure and rancid cobs. I fell back in the mud from the pen, and my hair got stuck in the muck and tangles of weeds and cobs.
    Mr. Griffin was so excited he didn’t even notice the mud and the stink. He ripped my dress off and put his hand between my legs. He untied his pants and pushed himself on top of me.
    I screamed but the side of my mouth was pushed in the muck. It was an awful taste.
    I kicked at Mr. Griffin. I knew if I could kick him between the legs I could hurt him. But he was on top of me and my legs were spread. I could only roll a little, I couldn’t kick.
    Mr. Griffin huffed like he was in pain. He strained till his eyes bulged out, gulping air and holding my arm down. I tried to hit his face and he laughed. He groaned and sighed.
    After a few seconds Mr. Griffin grunted and rolled off me. He sighed again and pushed himself up. “You’re a sweet girl, Josie,” he said as he pulled up his dirty pants and buttoned them.
    I didn’t say anything. What was the use to say anything now that he’d had his way? I lifted myself out of the muck. Straw stuck to the muddy dress and was tangled in my hair. I was weak from running and fightingand sore between my legs. I had to