No, I take that back. She's one of a type, an archetype. John Graves, in Goodbye to a River, described her without ever meeting her, but knowing — and honoring — her and her type of woman: "... with black hair pulled back on the sides of her head, and sun-narrowed eyes — the big-framed, gaunt breed of woman that farmers and ranchers so often pick to mother their sons after they've finished with the pinch-faced pretties of the honkytonks ... In the country they still stand straight, and are prized."

That about fits Twyla, except for the hair. Twyla's sister is convinced that she knows how to give good home permanents. And Twyla is polite enough to let her sister keep on thinking she's right.

Anyhow, Twyla pulled her truck up and honked the horn for country courtesy. She fiddled around for a while by the truck to give me time to come out and control the dogs.

Twyla took a four-foot length of two-inch galvanized pipe from the truck bed and shoved it back into the rifle rack in the cab.

"Been killing snakes?" I asked.

"No," Twyla replied. "Teachin' school.

"On my way over here, I came up on a car pulled off with a flat tire. Two young women was standing around, fluttering and looking at their flat. Car was full of kids — them babies was hot and hungry and crying. And them two able-bodied young ladies was just waiting for some man to come along and change their tire for them.

"The girls was wearin' little short-shorts and halter tops that might have got them more than they was bargainin' for, so I stopped and held me a little roadside seminar: Tire Changing 101.

"I got out my little cheater pipe and set 'em to digging out their spare, jack and tire iron. They was whinin' and grumblin', but they followed my instructions just as nice as you please. They was amazed at how easy them bolts broke loose using the cheater. By the time they was done, they was all sweaty and dirty, but sorta proud of themselves for changing their own tire.

"Before I left, I told 'em to get themselves a cheater pipe to carry in the car. 'Change your own tires, girls, and buy your own drinks, 'I said. 'No point in stranding yourself way out here waitin' for some man to come along and do for you. Or do to you. Besides, awhile back if you'd bought your own drinks, maybe now you girls wouldn't have that car full of babies crying there.'

"They said thank you for the tire changing lesson and the advice just as nice as you please," Twyla said. "Seemed pretty grateful and all."

I couldn't help but think that I'd be pretty polite and respectful too, with Twyla standing over me alongside the road, twirling her little cheater pipe.