Out of the Dust

Raw grief, discomfort, and discontent mark the poems in this brief section of the narrative. Billie Jo is not ready to begin healing from the tragedy, yet the accident and loss of Ma and Franklin and injury to her hands have robbed Billie Jo of most elements of her identity. Her home life changes completely, she cannot bring herself to play Ma’s piano, and her father grows more distant. Even when Arley persuades Billie Jo to play for the dance revue, she feels she plays terribly; the act brings no joy as it once did. Compounding this, Billie Jo indicates that few people treat her the same. Instead, to them, she is now just a “poor motherless thing” (92). Communicating with Daddy is difficult. In “Mad Dog’s Tale,” when she asks Daddy if he knows Mad Dog’s actual name, he looks at her like he cannot even understand her words. Mad Dog is the exception; he treats Billie Jo like Billie Jo, and she is grateful.

Her immersion in grief and guilt manifests strongly in the way she feels about her hands. To Billie Jo, most people “stare at [her] deformed hands” (92). The basketball coach might simply be providing some space to a girl who lost her parent, but Billie Jo assumes he avoids her distinctly because her hands are useless for the sport now. Similarly, her father had a habit of telling Billie Jo to keep busy by putting her hands to “good use” (89). This phrasing drops from his vocabulary, and Billie Jo’s reaction suggests that she thinks her hands are a constant reminder of that accident.

Though Billie Jo remains immersed in grief and cannot escape the burden of sadness, hints reveal that desire for change builds inside her. She yearns to see the city when Vera goes to collect the dance revue costumes, and she is frustrated when the pieces of art that stirred her imagination are no longer on view: “I feel such a hunger / to see such things. / And such an anger / because I can’t” (95).