The Good Girl and the Devil Boy
I moped around in my bedroom for days, aching to learn a new dance step and see Mrs. Mauer. Her voice replayed in my head, “Never give up, never quit.” So I stood in front of my mirror and tried to dance, but my legs ignored my anemic attempts. My broken heart fell to pieces, as I plunged into a bottomless depression. I’d never see my beloved Mrs. Mauer again. My tears blurred my image in the mirror as if to wash me away. Not even my favorite songs could pull me up. I wanted to die. In November 1963,…
Tragedy
August 12, 1963, was a typically hot, muggy day. Bobby and I were practicing a new tap dance routine for a TV amateur competition show. Mrs. Mauer said we were “pure harmony.” I practiced in front of my mirrored closet until I wore myself out. Mom bragged about my natural talent. And Bobby bragged about his to anyone who would listen. “Look at me! I’m a great dancer too.” He was ten. Later Mom and I were eating lunch. All was quiet. She never spoke while she ate, said it was rude. Bobby and his friend Timmy, who lived two…
Eyes of a Child-Part 3
The day Hurricane Donna blasted the Jersey Shore, a foretelling incident also hit me like a hurricane. Mom had stocked the house with canned goods and jugs of water, but forgot one item. “Nancy, I need you to run to Grant’s and get some candles.” “Now, Mommy?” I said. “Me? Go to the store?” “Yes, Nancy, while there’s a lull,” she said. “What’s a lull, Mommy?” “It means you need to hurry, Nancy.” Handing me my yellow plastic raincoat, Mom pointed to a pair of over-sized black rubber boots. “Put those on too.” Like it or not, I had to…
Eyes of a Child-Part 2
When Mom gave birth to my second brother, Billy, his face had a gaping hole where his upper lip and nostrils should have been. Not one to express emotion, Mom set about the task at hand of caring for my brother. During the first year of his life, Billy underwent several surgeries to correct his cleft palate. Yet a sweeter, happier baby did not exist. Billy brought a unique joy into our lives. My brother, of course, had no awareness of his affliction, and although he suffered obvious pain, he cooed and smiled anyway. Billy remained cheerful until that awful…
Eyes of a Child-Part 1
This is the opening of the first chapter of this book I’m working on. I’m undecided about whether the opening paragraphs in blue work as a good contrast, or whether they focus on “Nancy” then jump disconcertingly to the parents. __________ My mother named me after a song, “Nancy with the Laughing Face.” When I was two, I wandered from my mother in a department store and stumbled into a kind elderly man. He led me back to her and bought me a fluffy stuffed kitten that I treasured for years. I started out so innocent, so friendly. Not so…
