WORKSHOP STORY OF THE MONTH
SHADOWS
By Luciana Duce Dugan
Shadows. Strangers. Secrets. Everything in my house happens in the dark and I become a cat on the midnight prowl, sneaking around corners, listening for sudden sounds, watching at windows, catching shadows before they disappear. Why did she begin to disappear on Wednesdays? The mother who wraps her hopes around her three daughters, wraps them so tight they choke on their own dreams, the mother who spins fairy tales from spider webs and catches flies before they land in her baby’s milk, where did this mother learn to leave her nest unguarded?
Nest. From our 3rd floor window I watch as the red bird builds her nest in the only tree in the small park across the street. Back and forth, back and forth she flies carrying all her supplies inside her beak and I see the big grey and white striped cat hiding between the dirty garbage cans and “how long will it take before the cat leaps onto the tree?” I wonder as I stare breathless, observing the world around me. Observe. See everything. Say nothing.
“Why are you always looking out that window?” my mother asks. “You look like you’re waiting for somebody”…. as she speaks, my eyes climb up and down the tree, the red bird is gone and I cannot see the cat. “Do you have a secret friend?” she continues, “maybe a special boyfriend you don’t want your father to know about? I’ve seen you walking home from school a few times with Anna’s son…he’s a good-looking boy, that Vinny.”
I feel my face flush and the sound of a wailing cat startles us, brings my mother close to my side, she presses her arm next to mine, I feel the warmth of her skin, this mother I no longer know, this mother with her nails painted blood-red, the smell of cigarettes on her breath, the sweet fragrance of Jungle Gardenia rising from her breasts, her breasts, how I loved to bury my face between them, full and warm, my temple of safety, this mother now a distant, mysterious mountain like the huge man in the white Cadillac.
She pulls me closer, puts her hand under my chin and turns my face towards her. “So are you going to tell me about your new boyfriend” she whispers. Outside I hear the cat wailing, the birds loud squawks of nearby danger , and as I look into her eyes my blossoming body quivers, I feel the menstrual blood drip between my thighs and I want to scream like the frightened birds, want to scream “I hate you and I hate that man and I know he’s your boyfriend and I hope he dies”, and she presses her warm breasts against mine and my lips can barely open. “Oh, that guy Vinny”, I say…he’s not so cute…and he’s not as nice as you think.”
Previous Workshop Stories of the Month
Sunday Breakfast - January 2010
“You Can’t Judge A Book By Its Cover” - January 2010
Craig's List - A Chanukka Story - December 2009
A Better Life - October 2009
My Siblings - August 2009
Alas, Mr. Martin! He Really Tried! - July 2009
Night Blooming Jasmine - June 2009
