SHE'S A GIRL ALL RIGHT

 

SHE'S A GIRL ALL RIGHT 

I will never forget the story papa told us about a little girl who rode his school bus every day. He said they called her Little Missy, and it was well known around school that you did not mess her. Little Missy liked to fight. Her mother died when she was four year old and she has been raised by her father and five brothers. They said she had to be tough to survive living with her mean brothers. 

According to papa there was another very important family that rode his bus and they were the Miller’s. They owned a big, cotton, plantation and they were wealthy. They were not liked by most of the other kids because they were arrogant. They lived in a big house and flashed expensive jewelry. Their oldest daughter was an over-weight teenager that they all called Miss Nellie. 

On one cold afternoon when the bus stopped at the Millers, Miss Nellie came bouncing up the aisle and stepped on Little Missy’s toes. Little Missy jumped up and popped Miss Nellie up side her head. Miss Nellie ran home crying to her mother. Papa said that was the beginning of a family feud. 

Soon gossip spread though out the community that there was going to be showdown. Everybody was looking forward to the showdown because excitement was scarce in this rural community. After days of gossip it finally came to a head. 

One day the Miller’s did not show up for school. The gossip was that they were making plans for the showdown. Sure enough that afternoon when the bus reached the Miller bus stop three women were waiting: Miss Nellie, Mama Miller and the younger sister. When the driver stopped the bus the Miller’s called for Little Missy to step out. 

Little Missy did not hesitate. She made her way down the aisle, and, when she reached the bus door, she flew on to those three women like a bantam rooster in a dog fight. Papa had a way of describing the fight that made it seem real. The detailed description he said was engraved in his head and he would never forget it. 

Little Missy was fast and experienced in fighting.  First, she ripped open their blouses. She then made several lightening punches to their stomachs, followed with a few smacks to the face. 

She brought a fast knee-slam between the legs of Mama Miller, and when Mama bent over in pain, Little Missy landed an uppercut to her chin that put that three hundred pound woman in a spin. 

While Mama Miller was spinning, Little Missy went to work on Miss Nellie.  The younger Miller was in a panic. She was running around yelling, “Hit her, Mama. Hit her. She’s over here, Mama. No, she’s behind you, Mama.” 

About that time Little Missy put a head lock on the younger girl and slammed her into the fat belly of Miss Nellie. She bounced all over those big women who had fists flying, fat arms slinging, and not one them ever touched Little Missy. 

In a matter of minutes, Little Missy stepped back on the bus, wiped the dust from her hands, and motioned for the driver to drive on. The Millers looked like they had been attacked by the Tasmanian Devil. Their fancy hairdos were in shambles, and their clothes were torn. The ground looked like it had been pawed up by a bull. The Millers had been left with bare breasts, bruised eyes, and hurt prides. 

Papa said it was the best entertainment the kids had seen in along time. And they were all hanging out the windows shaming the Millers. Papa would laugh and say, “At our school or on our bus, there had never been a girl fight and that one was the center of conversations for a many days to come.” 

One day later, I wrote the story exactly like papa told it and published it in a book entitled “SHOW DOWN ON BUS ROUTE #3.”