Text Leveling System

Out of the Dust

RDQ:	3360	Max Word/Sent	67	Total Words	2634		Diff Words	895
Lex	1100	Ave Word/.Sent	13	Hi Freq occurs	1865	70.8%	Hi freq	387	43.2%
AR	9.0	Long Sentences	20.6	Low Freq occurs	171	6.5%	Low freq	132	14.7%

Beginning: August 1920

As summer wheat came ripe 
so did I 
born at home on the kitchen floor. 
Ma crouched 
barefoot bare bottomed 
over the swept boards 
because that's where Daddy said it'd be best.

I came too fast for the doctor 
bawling as soon as Daddy wiped his hand around 
inside my mouth.
To hear Ma tell it 
I hollered myself red the day I was born.
Red's the color I've stayed ever since.

Daddy named me Billie Jo. 
He wanted a boy. 
Instead he got a long-legged girl 
with a wide mouth
and cheekbones like bicycle handles.
He got a redheaded freckle-faced narrow-hipped girl 
with a fondness for apples
and a hunger for playing fierce piano.]] 
From the earliest I can remember 
I've been restless in this 
little Panhandle shack we call home 
always getting in Ma's way with my 
pointy elbows my fidgety legs. 
By the summer I turned nine Daddy had 
given up about having a boy. 
He tried making me do.
I look just like him 
I can handle myself most everywhere he puts me 
even on the tractor 
though I don't like that much.

Ma tried having other babies.
It never seemed to go right except with me. 
But this morning
Ma let on as how she's expecting again. 
Other than the three of us 
there's not much family to speak of. 
Daddy the only boy Kelby left 
since Grandpa died
from a cancer
that ate up the most of his skin 
and Aunt Ellis 
almost fourteen years older than Daddy 
and living in Lubbock 
a ways south of here 
and a whole world apart]] 
to hear Daddy tell it.
And Ma with only Great-uncle Floyd 
old as ancient Indian bones 
and mean as a rattler 
rotting away in that room down in Dallas.

I'll be nearly fourteen
just like Aunt Ellis was when Daddy was born 
by the time this baby comes.

Wonder if Daddy'll get his boy this time?

January 1934  ]] 
Rabbit Battles

Mr. Noble and
Mr. Romney have a bet going 
as to who can kill the most rabbits.
It all started at the rabbit drive last Monday 
over to Sturgis
when Mr. Noble got himself worked up 
about the damage done to his crop by jacks. 
Mr. Romney swore he'd had more rabbit trouble 
than anyone in Cimarron County.
They pledged revenge on the rabbit population; 
wagering who could kill more.

They ought to just shut up.
Betting on how many rabbits they can kill. 
Honestly!
Grown men clubbing bunnies to death. 
Makes me sick to my stomach.
I know rabbits eat what they shouldn't 
especially this time of year when they could hop 
halfway to Liberal
and still not find food 
but Miss Freeland says 
if we keep
plowing under the stuff they ought to be eating 
what are they supposed to do?]] 
Mr. Noble and
Mr. Romney came home from Sturgis Monday 
with twenty rabbits apiece. A tie.
It should've stopped there. But 
Mr. Romney wasn't satisfied. 
He said 
"Noble cheated.
He brought in rabbits somebody else killed." 
And so the contest goes on.

Those men 
they used to be best friends.
Now they can't be civil with each other. 
They scowl as they pass on the street. 
I'm scowling too 
but scowling won't bring the rabbits back.
They're all skinned and cooked and eaten by now. 
At least they didn't end up in
Romney and Noble's cook pots. 
They went to families 
that needed the meat.

January 1934  ]] 
Losing Livie

Livie Killian moved away.
I didn't want her to go.
We'd been friends since first grade.

The farewell party was Thursday night at the Old Rock Schoolhouse.

Livie
had something to tease each of us about like Ray
sleeping through reading class and Hillary who on her speed-writing test put an "even ton" of children instead of an "even ten."

Livie said good-bye to each of us separately.
She gave me a picture she'd made of me sitting in front of a piano wearing my straw hat an apple hallway to my mouth.

I handed Livie the memory book we'd all filled with our different slants.]] 
I couldn't get the muscles in my throat relaxed enough to tell her how much I'd miss her.

Livie
helped clean up her own party wiping spilled lemonade gathering sandwich crusts sweeping cookie crumbs from the floor while the rest of us went home to study for semester reviews.

Now Livie's gone west out of the dust on her way to California where the wind takes a rest sometimes.
And I'm wondering what kind of friend I am wanting my feet on that road to another place instead of Livie's.

January 1934  ]] 
Me and Mad Dog

Arley Wanderdale who teaches music once a week at our school though Ma says he's no teacher at all just a local song plugger Arley Wanderdale asked if I'd like to play a piano solo at the Palace Theatre on Wednesday night.

I grinned
pleased to be asked and said "That'd be all right."

I didn't know if Ma would let me.
She's an old mule on the subject of my schooling.
She says
"You stay home on weeknights Billie Jo."
And mostly that's what I do.

But Arley Wanderdale said "The management asked me to bring them talent Billie Jo and I thought of you."

Even before Mad Dog Craddock? I wondered.]] 
"You and Mad Dog" Arley Wanderdale said.

Darn that blue-eyed boy with his fine face and his smooth voice twice as good
as a plowboy has any right to be. I suspected Mad Dog had come first to Arley Wanderdale's mind but I didn't get too riled.
Not so riled I couldn't say yes.

January 1934  ]]
Permission to Play Sometimes
when Ma is busy in the kitchen or scrubbing
or doing wash
I can ask her something in such a way
I annoy her just enough to get an answer but not so much I get a no.
That's a way I've found of gaining what I want by catching Ma off guard
especially when I'm after permission to play piano. Right out asking her is no good.
She always gets testy about me playing
even though she's the one who truly taught me. Anyway this time I caught her in the
slow stirring of biscuits her mind on other things maybe the baby growing inside her I don't know but anyhow
she was distracted enough I was determined enough this time I got just what I wanted. Permission to play at the Palace.
On Stage
When I point my fingers at the keys the music
springs straight out of me. Right hand playing notes sharp as tongues telling stories while the smooth buttery rhythms back me up on the left. Folks sway in the
Palace aisles
grinning and stomping and
out of breath
and the rest eyes shining
fingers snapping feet tapping. It's the best
I've ever felt
playing hot piano
sizzling with
Mad Dog
swinging with the Black Mesa Boys
or on my own
crazy
pestering the keys.
That is
heaven.
How supremely
heaven
playing piano
can be.
Birthday for F.D.R. I played so well
on Wednesday night
Arley put his arm across my shoulder and asked me to come and
perform at the President's birthday ball. Ma can't say no to this one.
It's for President Roosevelt.
Not that Mr. Roosevelt will actually be there but the money collected at the ball
along with balls all over the country will go
in the President's name
to the Warm Springs Foundation
where Mr. Roosevelt stayed once when he was sick. Someday
I plan to play for President Franklin Delano Roosevelt himself.
Maybe I'll go all the way to the White House in Washington D.C.
In the meantime it's pretty nice Arley asking me to play twice for Joyce City.
Not Too Much To Ask
We haven't had a good crop in three years not since the bounty of '3I
and we're all whittled down to the bone these days even Ma with her new round belly
but still
when the committee came asking Ma donated:
three jars of apple sauce and
some cured pork and a
feed-sack nightie she'd sewn for our coming baby.
Mr. Hardly's Money Handling It was Daddy's birthday
and Ma decided to bake him a cake. There wasn't
money enough for anything like a real present. Ma sent me to fetch the extras
with fifty cents she'd been hiding away. "Don't go to Joyce City Billie" she said. "You can get what we need down Hardly's store."
I slipped the coins into my sweater pocket the pocket without the hole
thinking about how many sheets of new music fifty cents would buy.
Mr. Hardly glared
when the Wonder Bread door banged shut behind me.
He squinted as I creaked across the wooden floor. Mr. Hardly was in the habit
of charging too much for his stale food and he made bad change when he thought he could get away with it.
I squinted back at him as I gave him Ma's order. Mr. Hardly's
been worse than normal
since his attic filled with dust and collapsed under the weight. He hired folks for the repairs and argued over every nail and every little minute.
The whole place took
shoveling for days before he could open again and
some stock was so bad it had to be thrown away.
The stove clanked in the corner as Mr. Hardly filled Ma's order. I could smell apples
ground coffee and peppermint.
I sorted through the patterns on the feed bags sneezed dust
blew my nose.
When Mr. Hardly finished sacking my things I paid the bill
and tucking the list in my pocket along with the change hurried home
so Ma could bake the cake before Daddy came in. But after Ma emptied the sack
setting each packet out on the
oilcloth she counted her change
and I remembered with a sinking feeling that I hadn't kept an eye on
Mr. Hardly's money handling
and Mr. Hardly had cheated again.
Only this time he'd cheated himself giving us four cents extra.
So while Ma mixed a cake
I walked back to Mr. Hardly's store back through the dust
back through the Wonder Bread door and thinking about the secondhand music in a moldy box at the shop in Joyce City music I could have for two cents a sheet
I placed Mr. Hardly's overpayment on the counter and turned to head back home.
Mr. Hardly cleared his throat and I wondered for a moment
if he'd call me back to offer a piece of peppermint or pick me out an apple from the crate
but he didn't and that's okay. Ma would have thrown a fit if I'd taken a gift from him.]]
Fifty Miles South of Home In Amarillo
wind
blew plate-glass windows in tore electric signs down ripped wheat
straight out of the ground.
Rules of Dining
Ma has rules for setting the table. I place plates upside down glasses bottom side up
napkins folded over forks knives and spoons. When dinner is ready
we sit down together and Ma says "Now."
We shake out our napkins spread them on our laps and flip over our glasses and plates exposing neat circles
round comments
on what life would be without dust. Daddy says
"The potatoes are peppered plenty tonight Polly" and
"Chocolate milk for dinner aren't we in clover!" when really all our pepper and chocolate
it's nothing but dust.
I heard word from Livie Killian. The Killians can't find work
can't get food.
Livie's brother Reuben fifteen last summer took off thinking to make it on his own.
I hope he's okay.
With a baby growing inside Ma
it scares me thinking Where would we be without somewhere to live?
Without some work to do? Without something to eat? At least we've got milk. Even if we have to chew it.
Breaking Drought After seventy days of wind and sun
of wind and clouds of wind and sand after seventy days of wind and dust a little
rain came.
Dazzled
In the kitchen she is my ma
in the barn and the fields she is my daddy's wife but in the parlor Ma is something different. She isn't much to look at
so long and skinny her teeth poor
her dark hair always needing a wash but from the time I was four
I remember being dazzled by her whenever she played the piano. Daddy bought it an old Cramer his wedding gift to her.
She came to this house and found gaps in the walls a rusty bed no running water
and that piano gleaming in the corner.
Daddy gets soft eyes standing behind her while she plays.
I want someone to look that way at me. On my fifth birthday
Ma sat me down beside her
and started me to reading music started me to playing.
I'm not half so good as Ma.
She can pull Daddy into the parlor
even after the last milking when he's so beat he barely knows his own name
and all he wants
is a mattress under his bones. You've got to be something
to get his notice that time of day but Ma can.
I'm not half so good with my crazy playing as she is with her fine tunes and her fancy fingerwork.
But I'm good enough for Arley I guess.
Debts
Daddy is thinking
of taking a loan from Mr. Roosevelt and his men to get some new wheat planted
where the winter crop has spindled out and died. Mr. Roosevelt promises
Daddy won't have to pay a dime till the crop comes in.
Daddy says
"I can turn the fields over start again.
It's sure to rain soon. Wheat's sure to grow."
Ma says "What if it doesn't?" Daddy takes off his hat roughs up his hair
puts the hat back on. "Course it'll rain" he says. Ma says "Bay
it hasn't rained enough to grow wheat in three years."
Daddy looks like a fight brewing.
He takes that red face of his out to the barn to keep from feuding with my pregnant ma. I ask Ma
how
after all this time
Daddy still believes in rain. "Well it rains enough" Ma says "now and again
to keep a person hoping. But even if it didn't
your daddy would have to believe. It's coming on spring
and he's a farmer."
Foul as Maggoty Stew Arley Wanderdale said
the rehearsals for Sunny o f Sunnyside shouldn't take me out of school more than twice next week.
When I told Ma she got angry about
my missing school to play piano for some show. Me and Daddy
we're trying our best to please Ma
for fear of what it might do to the baby if we don't. I don't know why she's
so against my playing.
She says that school is important but I do all right in school.
I know she doesn't like the kind of music I play
but sometimes I think she's just plain jealous
when I'm at the piano and she's not.
And maybe she's a little afraid
of me going somewhere with the music she can't follow.
Or of the music taking me so far away one day
I'll never come home.
Whatever the reason she said I couldn't do it. Arley had to get somebody to take my place.
I do as she says. I go to school
and in the afternoons I come home run through my chores
do my reading and my math work at the kitchen table
and all the while I glare at Ma's back with a scowl foul as maggoty stew.]]

Subjective Criteria

Illustrations: No support

Unconventional format

Dialog: Two speakers

Dialog: Broken dialogue

Vocabulary: Some difficult words

Sentences: Difficult

Text structure: Difficult

Inferences: Required

Complexity: Several unrelated ideas

Concepts: Abstract/Difficult

Prior Knowledge: Familiarity

Sequence of Events: Mostly chronological

Features

Simple Plot

Mood/tone

First Person

Unconventional punctuation

Dialect/Accents

Metaphors

Similes

Topic

*Weather

Environment

Accidents

Money

Gardens/Gardening

*Family & Friends

*Music

Parents

Low Frequency Words

aisles	amarillo	annoy	apiece	arley
bawling	biscuits	bounty	brewing	buttery
charging	cheekbones	clubbing	collected	committee
crouched	cured	daddy'll	debts	delano
determined	distracted	drought	earliest	emptied
exposing	eyed	feuding	fidgety	fingerwork
floyd	fondness	foul	foundation	freeland
gathering	glare	glared	handling	hardly's
hillary	hipped	hollered	honestly	hoping
hunger	january	jealous	kelby	killian
killians	knives	legged	lemonade	liberal
lubbock	maggoty	mattress	meantime	mesa
milking	nightie	noble	noble's	oilcloth
ought	overpayment	packet	panhandle	parlor
peppered	peppermint	perform	permission	pestering
pledged	plowboy	plugger	population	pregnant
president	president's	rattler	redheaded	rehearsals
restless	reuben	revenge	reviews	rhythms
riled	romney	rotting	roughs	sacking
satisfied	sauce	schoolhouse	schooling	scowl
scowling	secondhand	semester	separately	seventy
sewn	should've	shoveling	sizzling	skinned
slants	solo	spindled	squinted	stirring
stock	sturgis	sunnyside	supremely	suspected
sweater	swept	testy	theatre	tongues
truly	wagering	wanderdale	wanderdale's	weeknights
wheat's	whittled