Inspired by a scene from Amy Tan’s “Valley of Amazement”
I can never forget the day Rosemary died. My very special, constant companion who kept
me amused all day long. Her face was soft with pinkish tones, as if she was
always flushed. Her eyes had a mix of
sly and timid with the permanent sideways glance under long, blond lashes. Her rose colored lips pouted together into a
permanent pucker. Father had her
especially manufactured for me in his porcelain factory. I asked mother to sew
her dresses to match mine, so we could be like twins.
Sated, Rosemary and I left mother, father, and Michael in
their grassy spot and walked toward a shadowy corner by a large rock. I had
dressed her in the lavender dress with white laced edges, an exact match to
mine. Her long, blond hair swayed in the
breeze but kept away from her face with a sparkly headband, just like mine. We
sang and danced, twirling on the rocky floor as my Mary Janes thumped the hard ground. Music rang in my ears that
transported me to a grand dance hall, just like the ones Mother and Father
attended. I stayed in the shadows and danced with Rosemary exactly as I did
when the grand events were hosted in our Manor. A whirl, a pirouette, a skip
and suddenly, before I realized it, Rosemary was snatched from my hands.
The wind blew my hair off my tear stained face, it brought
the smell of lavender to my nostrils, and it fetched my screams back bouncing
them off from the far off mountains with their jagged edges. I also heard
screams that were not mine. My eyes opened and I saw an odd looking bird sitting on a rock. I turned towards the shouts and saw my mother screaming and a strange woman
in white pants crying uncontrollably. Father and a pudgy old man
stood frozen, silent, and far apart with no expressions on their faces. The
pudgy man’s cheeks flared red, its color spreading all the way down to this
neck.
I can never forget the day Rosemary died. My very special, constant companion who kept
me amused all day long. Her face was soft with pinkish tones, as if she was
always flushed. Her eyes had a mix of
sly and timid with the permanent sideways glance under long, blond lashes. Her rose colored lips pouted together into a
permanent pucker. Father had her
especially manufactured for me in his porcelain factory. I asked mother to sew
her dresses to match mine, so we could be like twins.
I took Rosemary everywhere, even on that fateful day to the
mountain top picnic spot. The day was picture perfect under the bluest sky I
had ever seen in all of my nine years.
Its blueness hovered in the backdrop to jaggedly edged, brown, sandy peaks
in the distant. Our luscious picnic spot
was carpeted with greenness speckled with wild purple, yellow and red
blooms. A stream sauntered down the mountainside
in a lazy lull. Its musical notes serenaded us as we munched on ham sandwiches,
nibbled on the potato salad and sunk our teeth into the juicy watermelon
slices. My brother Michael made a game out of spitting the black seeds,
measuring the distance to the farthest throw he could accomplish. Some of them
even went as far as the sharp edge of the cliff, down into an abyss.
Sated, Rosemary and I left mother, father, and Michael in
their grassy spot and walked toward a shadowy corner by a large rock. I had
dressed her in the lavender dress with white laced edges, an exact match to
mine. Her long, blond hair swayed in the
breeze but kept away from her face with a sparkly headband, just like mine. We
sang and danced, twirling on the rocky floor as my Mary Janes thumped the hard ground. Music rang in my ears that
transported me to a grand dance hall, just like the ones Mother and Father
attended. I stayed in the shadows and danced with Rosemary exactly as I did
when the grand events were hosted in our Manor. A whirl, a pirouette, a skip
and suddenly, before I realized it, Rosemary was snatched from my hands.
The music stopped just as the dance hall disappeared. I was back on the mountain. I turned around to
see a pudgy faced boy grinning from ear to ear. Malice floated in his glassy,
blue eyes as he threatened to throw Rosemary in the air. Before I could react,
I saw her flying, high towards the clear blue sky.
I shrieked and rushed to catch her on her downward journey. The
chubby boy pushed me aside, his red cheeks flaring as he caught Rosemary just
before throwing her up again. I kept screaming and crying out for him to let me
have her back. He ignored me and continued with is vicious game. I did not see
my brother, Michael, come from his grassy spot and try and catch Rosemary for
me. Before I realized what was happening, I saw the two boys on the rocky
ground, fighting over Rosemary. Each had her by an arm, trying to pull her
apart. I could not see her being tortured and shut my eyes tight as tears
rolled down freely down my cheeks. I heard myself scream that they were hurting
her, to let her go, to stop fighting. I heard their voices, sounds of scuffle,
a pebble being kicked, thumps, and then there was silence.
The wind blew my hair off my tear stained face, it brought
the smell of lavender to my nostrils, and it fetched my screams back bouncing
them off from the far off mountains with their jagged edges. I also heard
screams that were not mine. My eyes opened and I saw an odd looking bird sitting on a rock. I turned towards the shouts and saw my mother screaming and a strange woman
in white pants crying uncontrollably. Father and a pudgy old man
stood frozen, silent, and far apart with no expressions on their faces. The
pudgy man’s cheeks flared red, its color spreading all the way down to this
neck.
I walked up to mother and tugged on her skirt to inquire
about Rosemary. She didn’t respond and continued to cry. I walked to father and
asked where Rosemary was. He ignored me and walked over to the edge of the
cliff and proceeded to look over into the abyss. I ran towards him and was soon
dragged back by mother screaming, “not you too”. She held me close to her body, digging her
fingers into my arms as she held on.
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment