by Carol Novack
One day, Aleda, the motherless girl with the two
humps on her back, refused to come out and play
and declined formal schooling. She had suffered
the taunts far too long: "Camel, camel, ride that
camel," the children would shout, daring each
other to climb on Aleda's back; they had even
tried a few times.
Aleda removed the dust and cobwebs from her
grandmother's old loom in the cellar and began to
weave a story of her authentic self. She began
with her past, portraying her mother in tender
blues and her own birth in violent reds. Then she
used black and gray yarn to color the mean
children. Her grandmother was a faded mauve
and her father a strong, comfortable green, like a
lawn on which she could sleep and dream. He
protected her from truant officers and
meddlesome neighbors. Aleda was a barely
discernible color, always but never present, an
oddly shaped color, meandering in and out of the
others.
Because laws demanded that Aleda receive
schooling, the authorities assigned a woman
named Penelope to become her teacher.
Penelope, who'd lost her child to a reckless driver,
and her lover to a war, introduced Aleda to
herself, by way of the great books. Penelope
gave the child the mirror of humanity; taught her
to see the neighborhood children in new lights, so
they were no longer black and gray; imbued Aleda
with the courage to view herself.
Penelope turned the full-length mirror in the child's
bedroom around so that it no longer faced the
wall. Imperceptibly, she introduced Aleda to her
face, forehead, eyes to nose to chin, then her
neck, evolving breasts, tender genitals, all the way
down to her toes. When she was comfortable with
her reflection, Aleda asked for a mirror so she
could see her back. She gazed at her humps, and
thought: perhaps, they're not so hideous after
all.
As years turned to memory, Aleda's color grew
stronger and more definite, until she emerged as
lusciously curved lavender, complementing the
rainbow of colors that was Penelope.
On the day she turned 17, Aleda set forth from
her house when the sun was at its apex. She
walked through the town and tasted everything
she saw with all of her senses. She knew the
people down to their bones, as she knew each
blade of grass in the village green, feeling its
growing.
Nobody recognized the woman who passed by
softly on the stones.
# # #
constitutional lawyer who authored a book of poetry in
Australia, where she received a writer's grant equivalent to
an NEA. Her writings are or will be forthcoming in many
publications, including The Penguin Book of Australian
Women Poets, Anemone Sidecar, Big Bridge, Diagram,
Laura Hird, Mindfire Renewed, Muse Apprentice Guild,
Newtopia, Opium, Pindeldyboz, Ravenna Hotel and
SmokeLong Quarterly. Carol's prose poem "Destination"
was selected as a "best" of Web Del Sol fiction at Sol
EScene. Carol publishes and edits Mad Hatters' Review:
http://www.madhattersreview.com.
Contact Carol at: nettlesomenell@yahoo.com.
