Young Woman and Older Woman in Light Blue Car
By Laura Ferguson
“You know, Honey, you shouldn’t wear your bathing suit as your underwear. It can give you an infection.”
“I know, Mom. How long until we get home?”
“’Bout half an hour. The same time it took to get here.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.”
She leans up and takes a magazine off the dashboard. She flips through the pages, reaches the end, and starts again from the beginning.
“Interesting magazine?”
“Yeah, Mom, I guess.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like it’s very interesting.”
“It is. I am just not in the mood to read.”
She places the magazine back on the dashboard, rolls down the window, leans back, and closes her eyes. Her hair whips around her face, but she does not brush it away. She takes a deep breath.
“You know, I really do think that boy was a good one. He treats you nice.”
“Yeah, I know, Mom.”
“No, Honey, I mean it. I really think that boy is sweet to you.”
“Yeah, Mom.”
“No, really! Now, your father –God rest his soul-wouldn’t have approved. He’s probably rolling over in his grave about this, but I don’t care. Now, I don’t like this whole mess you and that boy went and got yourselves into. You know your father would really have flipped about this. But that boy, he is a good fellow for a colored boy.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“I tell you, I have-“
“Mom, is it okay if we don’t talk for a little while. I’m really tired, and I don’t feel so great.”
“Of course. Just nap for a while.”
She reaches up and turns on the radio, takes the magazine that is blowing open off the dashboard, drops it on the floor, brushes her hair away from her face, leans back, and closes her eyes.
She can hear the woosh of the cars whipping by in the oncoming lane. Every time one does, it sends a gust of air through the car causing her hair to twirl around her face, itching her nose. But she doesn’t brush it away.
They drive on. A song comes on the radio-an upbeat number. That ends and another song-a song teenagers dance closely and slowly to-comes on. That ends and a new song comes on-another upbeat. That ends, and the local weather comes on.
“They say it is supposed to be hot all week.”
She doesn’t answer.
“Could get up into the 100s.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“You comfortable? You need one of them pills?”
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“You know, once when I was about your age, I a-“
“MOM!”
Another upbeat number started. She leans up, turns of the radio-another upbeat number, brushes the hair out of her face, kicks the magazine off her foot, leans back and closes her eyes. Again she can hear the car swoosh. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swo-
“Okay, I am going to say something here. I know you don’t want to talk, but I just have to know if I am the reason you did this.”
She didn’t answer. Swoosh, swoosh, swo-
“Cause you know-“
“You’re not the reason I did this, Mom.”
“Well, that didn’t sound very convincing. You can’t think of me as the reason you did this, Honey. I mean, I just gave you advice. That is what I am supposed to do as your mother. But overall the decision was yours.”
She doesn’t reply. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoo-
“Cause if you blame me for this, it is just going to make you hate me. I didn’t make you do this.”
She leans up, turns the radio back on, and leans back. She never opened her eyes.
Swo-
“I mean, this is something you decided for yourself. I only told you what I thought you should do. If you blame me for this, I don’t think I could live with myself. It’ll kill me. You will have to bury me up there with your father-God rest him. I mean, you are a good girl and that boy is a good boy even though he’s colored. I really like him a lot. I don’t think you believe that. But it’s true. I just had to tell you what was on my mind. I mean, you know I have to speak my mind, especially when it comes to something like this. In my day, you didn’t have many options. I mean, if I had had some options when I found out I was pr-Well, I just hope you don’t blame me for this. And you come to me cryin’, and I just had to tell you what I thought. I think that is always the best way to do it. Say what you feel. When you got advice to give, give it. That’s all I did. A bad situation all around. Just because I pointed it out doesn’t mean I’m to blame. You did what you did because you it is what you wanted to do.”
She opens her eyes, leans up, turns up the radio, kicks the magazine at her feet, leans back, turned, and looks out the window.
“Well, I guess that just means you do blame me. You think I forced you into this, don’t you? If that is how you feel, than I am just gonna sit here quiet. I’ll just let you think on this-you got your own freewill. And no one can make you do anything you don’t want. So don’t you try makin’ me feel quilty about this. I didn’t make you do anything. Now, get you hair out of your face. It has to be driving you crazy.”
She doesn’t move.
“Get your hair out of your face!”
She brushes her hair out of her face.
“There, now. Isn’t that better. I know it had to be annoying you.”
Her hair starts whipping around her face again.
“Oh, you are doing that just to get under my skin, aren’t you?”
She doesn’t answer.
They turn of the highway onto a residential street. The wooshes of the cars slows in speed and number. People are in their yards doing residential street activities. She turns, looks out the windshield, and stares ahead at the trailor park they live in.
“Now, put a smile on your face. If you get out of this car looking all in a huff people are going to ask what’s wrong. Especially that busy body Mrs. Griselda. Now, sit up straight. And for Heaven’s sake get your hair out of your face.”
They pull into the space next to their trailor. She brushes her hair out of her face, doesn’t smile, opens the door, gets out, doesn’t smile, and looks toward the lake.
He is standing there. He turns, looks at her, and waves.
She lifts her arm slightly, puts it back down at her side, doesn’t smile, turns, and goes into the house.
No comments:
Post a Comment