Page 45 - WTP Vol. VIII#2

WTP Third Place 2019
For Literary
gave him little thought one way or another. It was just that he distracted Macy so when he was around.
“Oh, Claude, there you are,” came her mother’s voice behind her as she stood daydreaming by the linen closet. “Where are the band-aids, do you remember? Jim’s cut his hand on that new knife. I told your father he’d made it too sharp.”
Claudia noticed a streak of blood on the bodice of the white dress. Had her mother lifted the injured hand to blow on it as she did when one of the children scraped a knee or elbow? Or had Jim reached out too far to show it to her? Claudia winced as if the wound were Macy’s. She supposed the white dress would have to be thrown away now. She knew blood stained.
“I saw a box of gauze under the bathroom sink yes- terday,” Claudia answered.
“I hope there’s lots of fireworks tonight,” Valerie said.
“Every year the show seems shorter to me,” said Claudia.
“I went down to the river Monday and got some cat- tails to burn to keep away the mosquitoes,” said Dan.
“Oh, that never works,” said Valerie.
“There’s hair on my corn,” wailed four-year-old Me- lissa.
It’s cornsilk,” corrected Dan. “Just eat it.”
“It’s yucky,” declared Melissa.
“Hey, don’t spit,” Valerie objected.
Melissa heaved the cob of half-eaten corn under a
While her mother headed to the bathroom, Claudia went to the linen closet and pulled out two beach towels. As she walked past the bathroom door, she saw her mother, the box of gauze in her hand, scru- tinizing her face in the small medicine chest mir-
ror. She was turning it slowly from side to side, as if searching for a flaw. Claudia was reminded of how her mother would walk round and round a vase while arranging flowers, carefully placing one stalk at a time until she achieved the desired effect.
Outside, Claudia turned off the sprinkler and quickly rubbed down the shivery children. She helped them pull off their wet bathing suits and pull on under- pants and shorts and t-shirts. They jostled against her as she squatted in their midst, resting their plump hands on her arms and thighs for balance
as they raised their feet. Their bodies smelled like puppies, and grapes scented their breath. They were panting like puppies, too. An old quilt was spread out for the children on the grass next to the rock garden. Claudia fixed plates for the four little ones and for herself and then sat down between Dan and Valerie, who had fixed their own plates with no thought of helping anyone else.
nearby lilac bush.
“I want a new corn,” she demanded.
“You can’t,” piped in five-year-old Joey.
“Mom,” called Melissa toward the table, “Joey says I can’t have corn.”
“She threw hers away,” yelled Joey in the same direction.
“It was too hairy,” Melissa explained to him in an almost reasonable tone.
“Your butt’s too hairy,” giggled Dan. All the little ones except Melissa laughed obligingly. Certain words were guaranteed hits with them.
“Mom, Dan said ‘butt’,” yelled Melissa.
“Dan,” called his father, “come get Melissa an ear of corn.”
Claudia glanced over at the table of adults. Jim Corey hadn’t even turned his head away from his compan-
(continued on next page)
38