Excerpt: Promised
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She never saw her total self when standing before a mirror. She’d noticed her eyes—oval, bright, with a hint of rich brown about the iris’s and sometimes her brows—full, curved and slick as a seal’s hide. But she saw no prominence in her skin, butter soft and depending the season, cinnamon-brown with a reddish hue, nor the nose, neither too big nor too small.
Her mouth with its pinkish tint, her arms and legs, long-limbed due to a growth spurt and her hair, short, dense and tight, never held her attention. They were just parts of her that God had given and she’d felt short-changed. She’d never noticed how her skin took on a natural glow in the summer and that the tips of her hair turned honey against the sun. Never recognized the perfect symmetry of her face, straight alignment of her teeth and a smile that lit up the world. Never knew most would call her pretty. What ten-year-old Paige Andrea Montgomery |
was aware of was summer morning pressing against her window, smelling of hot air and honey suckle; the day, a promise of sticky red lollipops, skinned knees and maybe a blue Italian icy and, that she needed to fasten her shorts, two summers old, three days past washing and since last season, missing the button that kept it closed.
The old bureau dresser with the missing drawer, a rickety fold-away bed that was never put away and an armless chair serving as a night stand, played audience as Paige tried to force the safety pin, bent and dulled edged, through the rough-dried cotton.
In her bedroom, getting dressed for another day’s fun, outside was calling, full of borrowed roller skates, mud pies and peaches two weeks from ripening. Outside, where there would be too much sun and not enough water, turning her pink lips salty and the side of her face striped in dried sweat. Outside was fun and play and friends, everything inside could not give her.
The house was empty.
Her mother left for work at seven and her cousin DeAndra had left weeks ago. Education had sent DeAndra north. Her mother wanted her child to get a decent school foundation and knew the New York City Schools system to be a good one. The end of fifth grade had come quickly and the very next day, Paige’s Aunt Verdie pulled up in her Sixty-two Ford, taking DeAndra back south for the remainder of her educational years which would take place in Maryland.
Paige missed her, a lot.
More sister than cousin, Paige and DeAndra’s lives intertwined well. Neither were bothersome, both were kind and for four years, had been constant companions to each other. Paige missed her but managed solace in a house absent of people and noise.
She could let her thoughts run free as the sound of morning birds drifted into open windows. At the peak heat of the day, she could go into the freezer, crack open an aluminum ice tray and eat cubes till her teeth ached or plunge her sweaty face deep into the frosty coolness. The empty house gave her freedom.
There was no term for a ‘latch-key kid’ in 1966, but that’s what Paige was. The house key, strung on a white shoe lace and hung about her neck, was a mainstay. With no one home during the day, it was her means of getting in and out the house. Life was no different for it. It was still good and fun and perfect. Life was complete and joyful, everything a tenth summer should be.
But something unexpected happened that summer day, Paige having no weapons against it. And not even her best friend in all the world, Marva could save her.
***
The old bureau dresser with the missing drawer, a rickety fold-away bed that was never put away and an armless chair serving as a night stand, played audience as Paige tried to force the safety pin, bent and dulled edged, through the rough-dried cotton.
In her bedroom, getting dressed for another day’s fun, outside was calling, full of borrowed roller skates, mud pies and peaches two weeks from ripening. Outside, where there would be too much sun and not enough water, turning her pink lips salty and the side of her face striped in dried sweat. Outside was fun and play and friends, everything inside could not give her.
The house was empty.
Her mother left for work at seven and her cousin DeAndra had left weeks ago. Education had sent DeAndra north. Her mother wanted her child to get a decent school foundation and knew the New York City Schools system to be a good one. The end of fifth grade had come quickly and the very next day, Paige’s Aunt Verdie pulled up in her Sixty-two Ford, taking DeAndra back south for the remainder of her educational years which would take place in Maryland.
Paige missed her, a lot.
More sister than cousin, Paige and DeAndra’s lives intertwined well. Neither were bothersome, both were kind and for four years, had been constant companions to each other. Paige missed her but managed solace in a house absent of people and noise.
She could let her thoughts run free as the sound of morning birds drifted into open windows. At the peak heat of the day, she could go into the freezer, crack open an aluminum ice tray and eat cubes till her teeth ached or plunge her sweaty face deep into the frosty coolness. The empty house gave her freedom.
There was no term for a ‘latch-key kid’ in 1966, but that’s what Paige was. The house key, strung on a white shoe lace and hung about her neck, was a mainstay. With no one home during the day, it was her means of getting in and out the house. Life was no different for it. It was still good and fun and perfect. Life was complete and joyful, everything a tenth summer should be.
But something unexpected happened that summer day, Paige having no weapons against it. And not even her best friend in all the world, Marva could save her.
***
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