I wished Deirdre would move on! Find some other bed-and-breakfastto colonize. Mother had gone too far with Deirdre this time, and I couldn'tstand it. The scent of clover, the chicka-chick of some odd bird. Boom! Somebody out there just couldn't stop. You heard themless frequently as the July days marched past the Fourth, but then one wouldboom on the twentieth. The engine whined, built up steam, then faded away. A far-off motorcycle gunned it, probably passinganother car. Out on theprairie, the temperature dropped by five degrees, but it was still muggy.The noise from Route 41 sounded louder at night, cutting through the woodsand across the power lines. The prairie grasses andwildflowers reached my shoulders, the flora so thick even someone as furious as I wouldn't dream of walking through it. The sun was dropping behind the trees, and the cicadas rattled like electric maracas. My mother had forbidden me to go there at night, so I could hardly wait to get through the prairie andreach the dark and leafy trails. Retreating to the woods was an act of rebellion. I was pigtailed, knobby-kneed, and flat-chested, thirteen,but physically more like ten. Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off thirteen-year-old-girl, especially a late bloomer, impatient for her body'stransformation. Walking the mown path through the fifty-acre prairie wasthe only way to cool my head. I was so angry with mother! I stormed down the prairie trail, flip-flopsslapping my heels.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |