Clifton was a bully but he was not without a crude and shrewd intelligence. It did not take long for him to figure out who it was who got him into trouble over the yo-yo incident. Confronted, Darlene did not deny her involvement.
Clifton: I will make you sorry!
Darlene: Let's get it on!
Clifton: All in good time, Baby.
Darlene's blood was about to boil, but she let it pass.
Clifton told his older brother, Louis, about this terrible, awful, mean, wicked girl who kept threatening him. Louis said, "I can straighten her right out." Clifton grinned. "Thanks, Brother."
The Pratt's front doorbell rang shortly after five in the evening. Mrs. Pratt answered the door to find a large angry woman and a twelve-year old boy standing on the porch.
L. A. Woman: Is this where Darlene lives?
Samantha: Yes. How may I help you?
L.A. W.: How? Just look at what that wicked vixen did to my Louie!
And there stood Louie, right eye purple and swollen, left cheek raw with claw (?) marks.
Samantha (turning toward the interior of the house): DARLENE! Come here at once.
Darlene shows up at the door, stands beside her mother, grasping her skirt and looking up, her baby blues all innocence. Louie's mother looks at this slip of a girl, turns to her son and says, "Is this the girl that beat you up?"
"Yeh, Ma. That's her."
Ma turned with a roundhouse swing and walloped her son across the cheek. "You let that little thing beat you up? I'll show you what it means to get beat up! Now get to the house. 'Scuse, me, Ma'am. We'll be getting along now."
©2017 David W. Lacy