Memories
flickered into her consciousness like glass slivers, something to retrieve
cautiously. They had summered there tucked in the backwoods of Southern
Illinois for twenty years, she, her mother and brother. In the 1950's
when her parents were still together, they had bought the place, the
farm already fifty years old. Rose was seven. When they visited the
first time, the realtor, a very, very big, bald man showed them through
the tall, dark rooms. The stately, white wooden pillars on the wide
front porch had impressed her as grand. Inside, though, the floors were
so uneven, she had the sensation of rolling through the house. Maybe
the floors had been rebuilt because she didn't notice the strangeness
anymore.
The berry patch was above the Indian mounds. Once some
archaeologists had notified them about wanting to excavate the site.
Her parents had refused and she was relieved. They rolled above the
grassy plain that ended on the banks of the Little Wabash. When they
listened to the jukebox at the table in the Blue Bird Cafe in town,
her mom would play The Wabash Cannonball,
proud that the water on their land was a tributary of the Great Wabash.
It was like having an important relative. The mounds were where she
chose to go most often. She and Mick had found some arrowheads there
and buried them beneath the floorboards in her room with a note on tree
bark to Whoever Finds This. The message she had since forgotten and
she couldn't figure out which floorboards they were because none of
them were loose.
The mounds still brought Rose back. She had felt the
first stirrings of her own separateness in that place. Her breasts had
started to grow, and when she lay on her stomach napping in the afternoon
sun, they hurt, as if marbles were stuck in her shirt pockets, driving
themselves hard into her chest. There Mickey and she had played with
their bodies, gently exploring all kinds of ways to touch. Once there
was a kiss, so deep, a tingling gushed over her, melting her bones to
warm liquid that seeped down into the ground below. There was more and
only because she was older and learned other names for it, did it bother
her at all. Truth told, she loved this secret time of sweet pleasure,
nervous awakenings that tickled like long feathers grazing flesh.
At some point, it had slipped away. She guessed they
outgrew it. There was no trace of that time between either of them now
and for that she was grateful. It wasn't him, anyway; it belonged to
her own self and the silent mounds of earth filled by sacred ritual,
put away with great care forever. |