Elly
Well, in the summer then, ’n the spring: I doan see w’at’s fun about the scorchin’ heat ’n the dust ’n the hot wind. I’d wanta be in out of it. I’d wanta be under a roof whur the sun didn’t hit me....
Lloyd
Sun’s bad. Dust’s bad, too. Wind ain’t so good. But they’s sump’n else....
Elly
Yeow? W’at is it?
Lloyd (going across to her)
I doan know ... it’s kinda crazy....
Elly
I had a crazy brother.