
##1002573 FINAL FORM <p> I filled a bowl with water , wet my hands , and ran them over the surface of the cold clay , pushing my fingers into it , wondering what shape it would take . I thought of a rock encrusted with mollusks , but I was tired of marine life . I had already attempted a sea urchin the day before yesterday and a fish last week . " I like your people , " Phillip had said . " Make it a person . " <p> " I 'm already making a person , " I had said , touching my swelling abdomen . Lately , when I was sculpting , my stomach got as dirty with clay as my hands and forearms . The clay would soak through my shirt and fasten it to my skin like papier mch . Sometimes I gave up and worked topless . " You 're teaching the kid art through osmosis , " Phillip said one day when he came into the Light Room to find me creating happily , naked from the waist up , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . <p> But this morning , the Light Room was chilly , and I kept my t-shirt on as I worked the clay , coaxing the moisture through it with the pads of my strong fingers . What shape today ? Would I destroy it , telling my self that it was all wrong , that I could never be happy with this as my last piece ? <p> I did n't think I could be a good artist and a good mother at the same time . I did n't particularly like to leave the phone hooked up when I was working ; how could I deal with a baby crying , or a small child wanting attention when I was trying to concentrate ? Phillip had offered to help out , but I thought I would be happier if I gave up my work completely for a while . <p> That decision of course , had been easier to make six months ago . Finding out that I was pregnant happened to coincide with a total lack of inspiration in my work . I had been a too happy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a child would be the end of my creative life . <p> Then one day , a month ago I thought of my last piece : an abstract form in which I used different techniques to create alternately rough and smooth surfaces . It was far from being my favorite piece . Could I happily raise my child with that on my coffee table as the last symbol of my talent ? <p> One more piece - the perfect piece . I was n't inspired , just driven . I knew I had to create something : I did n't know what . <p> At three-thirty , I put the clay in a plastic bag and went upstairs to take a nap before Phillip came home . When I woke up , it was dark outside , and I could hear the news on TV in the living room . I dragged myself to the kitchen to find Phillip digging through the refrigerator . " I 'm sorry I did n't get to the store , " I said . <p> Phillip stood up suddenly , whacking his head on the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said . " Did you have any luck today ? " <p> " No . " I said , yawning as I lowered myself into a kitchen chair . " I tried to make a cat . " <p> " Oh , no . You told me to stop you if you ever ventured into cute ' . " <p> " It was n't that kind of a cat , " I said humorlessly . <p> " Jane , " Phillip said , " do n't put so much pressure on yourself . " <p> " It 's just so frustrating ! " I burst out suddenly . " I feel the clay and nothing comes to me . I never had to decide what to make before ; it just happened , and now , nothing 's happening . " <p> I could feel the lack of creativity drying up every part of my life . It was the baby , sucking all the fluid from my body down into my stomach , and when it left me , it would take everything , leaving only a dry nothing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ n't good for anything but guiding a baby 's mouth to her breast . I was thirty-six years old , too old to be a mother for the first time . But it was too late to go back . <p> On the following morning , my mother came over without calling . I knew she was still sizing up the situation . On the one hand , she was thrilled that she would finally have a grandchild ; on the other , she did n't like that my method of giving her one involved a forty-eight-year-old Japanese man to whom I was not married . <p> " I brought you an article , " she said , rifling through her purse , past lipsticks and used Kleenex and a pack of Trident gum , to finally extricate a newspaper article that had been cut out with pinking shears . " It says that the healthiest babies are born to women who gain at least thirty-five pounds . " <p> " Thanks , Mom , " I gestured to her to put the article on top of the cabinet by the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me . My obstetrician says I 'm gaining plenty of weight . " <p> " I hope you are n't working too hard , " she said . <p> " I 'm not . " <p> " You look tired . " <p> " I 'm seven and a half months pregnant . Of Course , I look tired . " <p> My mother walked around the Light Room and glanced out the window . The only make-up she wore was magenta lipstick , and from what she was wearing , she must have come straight from the gym . " How is the nursery coming ? " she asked . <p> " What ? Oh , the nursery . Well , Phillip has been working on it . " <p> " Oh , " she said tightly . I looked up . " That 's nice of him . " <p> " He 's been terrific ... " <p> " Mmmm ... " my mother said . " I think ... well , I hear , anyway , that being pregnant is easier when you 're younger , like in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " Well , I 'm not in my twenties , okay ? " <p> " Oh , Janie , clam down . I just wanted to tell you . " She laughed in that really grating way . " Anyway , I have to go ... now you get plenty of rest and take care of yourself and I 'll call you next week . I can let myself out . Bye , bye ! " <p> " Bye , Mom . See you later . " I looked down at my stomach and wondered why the person who gives the most to you inevitably becomes the most irritating person you know thirty years later . " Just think , " I told my stomach , " someday I 'll be driving you crazy , too . " <p> " I was thinking about taking some time off work , " Phillip said . It was about three weeks later , and he was standing in the doorway , watching me work . <p> " What for ? " <p> " You know , after the baby 's born ... @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do your work . Professors are supposed to take sabbaticals , right ? " <p> " And how long will you take ? A month ? A year ? Or just until I get all this out of my system ' ? " <p> " I just want to help you , " he protested . " You act like I have to interest in this kid at all . I 'm getting old , and this is probably the last chance I 'm ever going to get . " <p> " Oh , please , " I said . " You 'll be fertile for another thirty years . " <p> " In thirty years , I 'll be close to eighty . I do n't want to start another kid . I waited too long already . " <p> " Oh , for God 's sake . " <p> " Listen , I want to say something , and I do n't want you twisting my words around an jumping all over me . There 's a baby inside you . If you do n't take care of yourself @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I 'm telling you , you are n't taking care of yourself . You 're working too hard and you 're not getting enough sleep . " He grabbed my hand . " Were n't you the one who told me that artists do n't have to suffer ? " <p> " You act like I 'm intentionally torturing our child . I just want it to be proud of its mother . " <p> " Why would n't it be ? You 've made a million beautiful things . " <p> " Well , I want to make a million and one ! " I yelled . Phillip left the Light Room with a frustrated sigh . I pounded the clay with clenched fists as I listened to him turn on his music in the other room . " Wagner sucks ! " I hollered , intentionally mispronouncing the name . " He 's just a jerk , " I told the baby , who suddenly gave what I thought was a violent kick . " Owww , " I said . " Take it easy . " But the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wrenching pain , and I doubled over . " Oh , no , " I thought . " No , no , baby , " I whispered , tapping myself on the stomach , " no , no , please , not yet . " <p> The pain ended . The baby quiet , I stared out the window . My obstetrician had told me it could be any time now . I would n't tell Phillip , of course , until I absolutely had to : it would n't do any good to have him fussing around me any longer than necessary . After a few minutes had passed , there it was again . First a pulling , stretching that began as the tiniest sensation into the distinct feeling that this kid was about to climb out of me , whatever it took . Oh , God , what was that Lamaze thing ? I had n't gone to the classes , only see the women on TV . " Hoo hoo , hee , hee . " I breathed , but it did n't work . <p> It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one last time . The pain , that was it . A woman being turned inside out , a baby pushing , clawing its way into the world : it was bloody and horrible . I loved it . I formed the woman 's head in a matter of minutes , with its hair fanned out around it , and its lips screaming . No , it was silent ! It had no mouth at all , or eyes ; all the agony was in the arch of the neck . Again and again , the pain rattled through me like an old train . And the body was like a cage , with the baby hanging from the top bars , one hand thrust toward the sky , only it kept falling . In fact , the whole thing kept caving in , but I did n't have time to put in supports , because there was another contraction , tying me in knots . Okay , so the baby could n't hang from the top ; it would stand on the bottom and reach through the bars , out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ legs , because Phillip was at the door , " Are you hungry ? " he asked . <p> " No , " I barked . <p> " What 's that ? " he asked , coming into the room to examine my work more closely . <p> " It 's nothing . " I stood up and my water broke all over the floor . <p> " Oh , my God ! " Phillip yelled . " Contractions ? " <p> " Yes , but ... " <p> " For how long ? How close together are they ? " <p> " I do n't know . I have n't been paying attention . I ca n't go yet , Phillip , I 'm almost done ... " It came again , and I clutched my stomach . <p> Phillip grabbed my arm , " That 's enough , Jane . I mean it . " <p> " Let go of me ! I 'm going to finish this ! " But this time the pain was unbearable . I stiffened and arched my neck like the woman I had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ helped me to my feet and ushered me into the bedroom to lie on the bed while he called the obstetrician to find out what to do next . <p> Colette had one big clump of soft , black baby hair and pale , yellowish skin ; her dark brown eyes were almost round . She was perfect , and fat , too - a fact I relished . Phillip held his breath whenever he held her , saying that he guessed he was just too old to be a first time father , but I slid into motherhood pretty comfortably . I did n't go back to work , not really . There just was n't enough time . The baby slept most of the time ; when she was awake , I wanted to be with her every second , kissing her toes , tickling her , and taking endless pictures to send to faraway relatives , especially Phillip 's eighty-five-year-old mother in Florida , who was planning a trip to meet her granddaughter in the summer . When Colette was asleep , I went crazy cleaning things ; @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ suddenly a deadly threat . <p> It 's difficult to avoid an entire room in your house , and soon I found my way back into the Light Room , stealing an hour here and there while Colette was napping . I was n't really making much of anything : bookends and a tiny set of furniture for the shelves in the nursery , and an ethnically accurate little bride and groom to sit on top of the sheet cake at Phillip 's and my small wedding , which took place two months after Colette was born . Eventually , the bassinet ended up in the Light Room , and that 's where she slept while I worked on small pieces . " Day , trips , " Phillip called them . I simply could n't be as focused as I had been before . Anything that could n't be finished during the course of a nap had to be abandoned . <p> In May , when Colette was six months old , I was looking through the cupboards in the Light Room when I came across my unfinished childbirth piece @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I were in the hospital , but I had thought he 'd just thrown the thing away . I pulled it out and set it carefully on the counter-top , holding it at arm 's length . It was very crude , but the arch of the neck was as expressive as I had intended . Without supports , the cage/stomach had collapsed , and the unfinished child needed only antennae to resemble an insect . At the time it had seemed so right , but now it only made me angry at how wrong I 'd been . I picked it up and dropped it into the garbage can with a crash . <p> There was a thin wail behind me . I sighed ; she 'd only been sleeping for a hour or so . I knelt down next to the bassinet and tried to get her softly and stroking her face , but she was too alert , so I picked her up and sat back down to my work table . Balancing her in my lap , I began to work once more . " You 've @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( Torso of woman making a pot ) <p> 
##1002653 Just this morning , as summer dragged to its sizzling end while the newspaper ads proclaimed ( with crazy Labor Day sales of cheap hotdogs , charcoal , and cola ) that the fun was about to be over , Danny announced to Janet that he absolutely had to get away before school began again . He had , in fact , just sat down at the computer to type his class assignments when he suddenly leaped from his chair and declared that a room at the Sahara cost only $25 ( he picked up the paper and waved the ad at her ! ) , that it was cheaper to go there than to stay at home running the air conditioner , and that he was entitled to a little fun after having spent the entire summer painting and wallpapering the bathroom . They had n't been to Las Vegas in ten years ; not since the three girls had gone to a nearby Girl Scout camp . Shocked at his tone , she did n't quibble . He had n't spent the entire summer wallpapering the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ slumped in front of the television watching reruns ; he had peered , daily , into the girls ' empty bedrooms , grumbling that they would doubtless leave their junk there for the next 15 years and how could he ever plan to knock out a wall between two of the rooms and make himself a darkroom ? Indeed , for the last week or two her husband had n't been himself , had n't been her cheerful , balanced , reasonable Danny . ( Janet was never reasonable or balanced , so it did n't alarm her when she found herself flying into rage or sinking into depression . Actually , she was often pleased with all the entertainment , the variety of emotion , with which she consistently provided herself ! ) But Danny 's declaration made her heart leap his tone frightened her . She packed her bag in a hurry . Not much was needed for two days -- two dresses , one sweater , a bottle of aspirin , ear plugs . Hesitating , trying to decide if this trip was going to have that aspect @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ French perfume and a pink lace nightgown Danny liked her to wear . Their room was on the 23rd floor overlooking the Strip , the Landmark , Circus Circus , the Wet ' n Wild water slide . They were in the new tower. , where the elevator climbed upward at jet speed , where the king-size bed was firm and covered with a beautiful bedspread , where the choice of TV , room service or complimentary Gideon Bible waited for them . Janet flopped down on the quilted spread and held out her arms to Danny . " A loaf of bread , a jug of wine , and us in a hotel , " she said . " What else could we desire ? " " Do you know where my eyedrops are ? " Danny said . " I feel as if I have sand under my lids . " They played blackjack all evening . Rather , Danny played and Janet hung over the back of his chair , squinting at his cards and trying not to count on her fingers to see if each hand was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 'd decided he 'd won or lost a hand the dealer had long since swept away the cards and the bets ( or paid them off ) . Janet was fascinated by the dealer 's hands ( " Nancy from Tacoma , Washington , " said the pin on her shirt ) , by the authority in those slender fmgers . Though the woman chewed gum , and looked wild-eyed under what seemed a long blond wig , her fingers were like a surgeon 's -- powerful , accurate , knowing -- as they dealt cards , threw out chips and raked them back , poked 20- and 100-dollar bills into the lucite slot , and shuffled the contents of the shoe when the cards got too low . At one point Nancy-from-Tacoma extended the yellow card with which to cut the deck to Janet , and Janet felt deeply touched , as if she 'd been chosen for an honor . Yet she did n't take a seat , did n't bet two dollars a hand ( sometimes five ) along with Danny . She did n't want to fmd @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was bad . At 10 P.M. she suggested they might need dinner , although she was n't even sure herself that she was hungry . Danny won four hands in a row . His pile of chips stood tall . " Please , let 's eat , " she begged him . " We really need to . " " I think I 'm having luck , " he said . " I ca n't stop now " " All right , I 'll see you around later . Somewhere . Sometime ! ' She thought her hurt tone would capture him , but no -- freed , he did n't give her a glance . Janet wandered alone into the red maw that was the casino . Flashing lights beckoned to her , and she approached the spinning reels , spinning wheels . " Let me make you rich , " a man in casino uniform called out , standing alone at his Wheel of Fortune . " Do you guarantee it ? " Janet asked . " I 'd like a guarantee " " No guarantees , honey , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ loose and get yourself some action . " When her money ran out , she wandered out to the pool and sat on a beach chair where she examined the unnatural temperature announced on the unnatural tower of light that rose above her into the heatheavy night . How strange this city was : a fortress of brightness and artificially cold air in a barren , sterile desert . The image of hell came to her . Why did anyone come here ? In every one of the inhabited hotel rooms -- thousands and thousands of lit , draped , carpeted rooms -- couples like her and Danny were here for their chance at luck . Janet jumped off the beach chair . She 'd been on her own long enough . Where in heaven 's name was Danny ? He had dragged her here , he ought to check on her now and then . She rushed back inside , braced for the flood of noise and light and stale air . She began to scan the casino for him . Suddenly every man at every blackjack table looked like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and none of them . Maybe he had left her ! She 'd read of such things : men going out for a loaf of bread and never coming back . Maybe he 'd slipped out of the casino and taken off for Salt Lake City on a Greyhound bus . She might never see him again ! Perhaps it had all become too much for him , being married to her for so many years , supporting three children , sending them to college , going to his job every day , working on the house ( " wallpapering all summer ! " ) . It was no easy deal , taking care of the complicated life they 'd rigged for themselves . When she finally spotted Danny curved horseshoe-like over the table , his back arched with tension , she knew something was not right with him . How had she missed the signals ? She heard herself sob aloud with relief . His body , and he in it , was the most precious form on Earth to her . She tapped him on the shoulder . " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I was frightened . " She saw that his pile of chips was nearly gone . He had two dollars left . His face was haggard , his eyes reddened by smoke . " Look , maybe that 's enough for now ; ' she said . " Come outside with me and rest awhile . " ## Two lovers were now on the beach chair Janet had vacated . They were facing each other , kissing each other , clinging together in order not to fall off . " I was on that very beach chair just a few minutes ago , " Janet said . " Alone , " she added . Danny stared after her pointing finger . His gaze was glazed , unfocused . She waited till some semblance of understanding slowly came into his eyes . " They 're kids , " he said . " Honeymooners , maybe . " " You and I could have a little honeymoon here , " Janet suggested . " We could forget gambling and go up to our room now " " I had a run of bad @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said . " I 'd like to play a little longer . " " You ca n't play all night . You 're exhausted ! " She paused . " Danny , is something wrong ? What 's wrong ? " " Nothing , " he said quickly , the way a guilty child might say it , and then he hung his head . " What 's going on ? " Danny shrugged . He looked over at the young couple . " A test , " he said . " What ? " " At the doctor 's . " Lights flashed in front of her eyes . She thought a person might feel this way just before she fainted . Danny swallowed . He stared at the pool . " The doctor said it 's wise to have it at my age . This is when the trouble starts . When you 've gotten this old . " " Oh , Danny , you 're not old ! " " Statistically I am . It 's the same test President Reagan had . They put a lighted tube @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .. " No , it 's routine , " Danny said . " I have an appointment next week . " " It 's scary , is n't it ? " Janet said . " You 're scared . " " Yeah , " Danny admitted . " I do n't want to do it . " She wanted to tell Danny she understood ; she herself was now having a mammogram every year . She knew the sense of what it was like to have your life broken up into yearly segments from which you would emerge free or sentenced . Some of her friends had already had bad news . Real luck was n't winning a jackpot . It was a clean bill of health for another year and the news that you still had an ordinary , difficult , precious life . " And if something 's wrong , " she said carefully , " I 'll be there for you . " He pressed her shoulders tightly . " You 've always been there for me , " she said , " but you 've never asked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have to be Superman . " Oak Run presents our exciting new maintenance-free Courtyard Villas . Private , spacious and carefree ! Or choose from 9 new single-family home designs . Either way , you 'll enjoy resortstyle living in an adult community with golf , swim club , tennis , security and much more . Priced from the $50 's to the $100's. ## She took his hand and led him to a pair of deck chairs . They sat down side by side . Danny took a deep breath and lay back , staring at the sky . " Look ! " he cried . A pair of birds were coming down from above , shooting down like stars and landing soft as silken feathers on the still surface of the water . Light from the tower played on the iridescent feathers of their necks . " Amazing ! " Danny said , finally . " Beautiful , " Janet whispered . " Lucky we were here to see it . " Danny patted his chair , inviting Janet to join him . She came into his arms and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , " she said . Inside the casino a slot machine went off like a cannon . There were shouts and loud hurrahs . They faced each other and , at the same moment , laughed . 
##1002667 SADIE STORIES <p> Alice told me another story some years later when we were both mothers a few times over . Her elder son , the baby born and nursed that dog-pack summer , was never strong . Around six years old , he 'd become very ill with some kidney thing she never divined , and Alice all but lived in hospitals . <p> The hospitals were special children 's centers ; in them , children died every day , and before their bodies were cool , other sick children were in their beds . When Alice came home , she was paler than ever , and she said it would take her forever to forget the children 's faces . When she was home , home was a tiny house outside the village , where she lived with the two body , Sadie and the cats , Moose and Max and Bill . She got divorced quite a while before I did . <p> My three girls and her boys were playing in her yard while she told me this one . That oldest boy had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rubber bags taped to his belly to empty him , all tucked under his T-shirt . He was only home on a kind of leave because they needed his bed , but he looked fine there in the yard . <p> Sadie slept at our feet . We were sitting on towels in the sun , trying to get tan and drinking whiskey sours . Alice 's legs were stretched out on the grass , and we both laughed at how they reflected the sunlight ; they were so blindingly pale . I still like to sun with Alice - she makes everyone else look healthy and brown . Even now , I can almost feel that sun warming my back and legs the way it did when Alice told <p> Sadie and the Death of Toad <p> Sadie had nine puppies in her first and only litter , and every single one of them was different . Two were black , one with short fur , one long ; two brown , one curly , one straight ; two tan , one fluffy , one flat ; three mixed , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fuzzy . Two of their fathers we knew : a black standard poodle belonging to the owners of the farm and a mixed something named Tyler . The vet said there were probably more : I suspected the dog pack . Anyway , the pups were all sort of cute and all sort of ugly , and we gave them away to anyone at all . <p> Expect for the nearly prettiest : a golden tan male who actually looked a little like a Lab , except thinner , more delicate . We kept him to keep Sadie company after she got fixed . But she barely even let that poor pup breathe on his own . Sadie was top dog , and she just stomped every bit of spunk out of that pup . He quaked along behind her , belly to the ground , wherever she went . He ate last , peed last , slept last . We named him what he was : Toad . <p> ( Of course , Alice was still on the farm when this one happened ; she just did n't tell it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ - I knew at the time that Toad had come along , but she had no story about him until later when , I think , she needed it . ) <p> Well , Sadie did take Toad out into the fields with her . She showed him how to hunt woodchucks , but she never let him have a bite of one until it had been dead for about three weeks and was stiff as leather . She still pushed him off the porch whenever she was feeling even halfway testy , and she raised her lip if he came anywhere near the water bowl before she 'd slobbered it all over the floor . <p> But whenever Sadie went anywhere , Toad followed . They had the run of the farm . Well , one night , Sadie and Toad went off somewhere and did n't come back by morning . I did n't really miss them because I was making breakfast for my sister from New Jersey and her husband and their four kids who 'd been visiting for a week and their four kids who 'd been @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The did go , finally , in their station wagon , and I settled in with a cup of tea , when , shit , back they all came and piled out of the car and stood there on the lawn . The kids were bawling . <p> I went out on the porch . They hemmed and fidgeted , and my sister finally said that Toad was dead out there on the edge of the highway and Sadie was sitting there with him - sitting straight up in front of his body , staring into space . They 'd called her and even held out a piece of one of the bologna sandwiches we 'd packed in with their lunch , but she would n't come . <p> So I got John from the barn ( her husband - on the farm they were still married ) and he got the truck . We went out , leaving my sister with six bawling kids , my two having joined right in . Their description was absolutely correct . Toad was certainly dead , although outwardly perfect . In fact , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and was lying flat , with dignity . <p> I got out of the truck and put my arms around Sadie 's neck . " He 's dead , Sade , " I said . " Do n't you bother . " She would n't move , though , until John heaved Toad into the rear of the truck , then she climbed into the front seat and came home . <p> Back home , she climbed out of the truck and went , once again , under the porch . New hole , just as deep . She took no interest in the funeral we staged for the kids , and she would n't eat for two days . On the third day , though a UPS man sprayed mace at her when she growled at him from under the porch . She just sprang out in living fury and knocked him flat . I had to pull her off his chest , and for awhile it was touch and go as to whether he 'd sue . Anyway , after that , Sadie felt much better , and she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ misses Toad . I think of her , sometimes , sitting by that road , helpless , his body behind her : She 's a farm dog ; she knows what death smells like . She knows he 's gone . But she sits watch all night , and I think she wishes she 'd been a better mother . <p> We nodded wisely into our drinks and watched our children play in the sun . Alice wiped her eyes with the edge of the towel . I never saw her , before or since , cry for her son 's pain or those children 's faces or all the times she left her younger boy with whatever neighbor she could talk into keeping him in those years lost to hospitals . But she cried over that spineless Toad , and even Sadie sighed in her sleep . <p> III <p> Many years later , Sadie died , when Alice still lived in that little house , after all of our children were grown or gone . Sadie had lived an unusual twenty-three years , but she had cancer and arthritis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ leg was all twisted from a fox trap . <p> One day , finally , Alice had to call John , even though they 'd been divorced for years , and ask him to bring his shotgun over . Sadie 's tumor had grown right out through her skin , and she was in terrible pain . So John carried Sadie out to the edge of the yard . He put her on her blanket and put the gun to her old black head , and he says ( Alice , for once in her life , did n't watch ; she went to the library . ) Sadie looked up once at that gun , then she laid her head down and gazed politely toward the woods . <p> He pulled the trigger , wrapped her in the blanket , dug a hole ( new hole , much deeper ) , put her in , then threw in her water dish and her last woodchuck skin , and covered her up . Then he went home . He says he shook for hours , but he still believes that a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his own dog when the time comes . Alice came back later that day and planted daffodil bulbs on the dug-up spot , and they still bloom like crazy every April , even now , twenty-some years later . Now and again , we go to visit the spot , in spring . <p> But Sadie did n't really stay dead : She rose in Alice 's stories . Here 's our current favorite , as told in Alice 's two-room apartment , no yard , no garden . Life has slimmed considerably , without the children or the men we expected to end our lives with . But right now it does n't seem to matter . Alice is in the rocker , long white hair on small white shoulders . Her hands are folded in her lap and her legs are curled , and she 's telling <p> Sadie Outsmarts the Whippersnapper <p> I was taking a walk with Sadie . She was nineteen years old and one mess . Did that dog smell ? Yes , lord , and she 'd had the cancer for a while and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ kept on folding under her when she was trying to walk . It would look as if she 's just suddenly decided to sit down , bang , one her ass . Sadie played it that way , of course . She 'd just sit there , nonchalant , as if she 'd meant to take a little rest just on that spot , and she 'd look around , taking real interest in the view , until she was ready to heave herself up again . Walks with Sadie took a long time . <p> This one day we were going up the hill outside the village , where the road follows the creek . The road goes along the crest of the hill with the creek running fast some twenty yards or so below . Anyway , Sadie was huffing and farting , falling and sitting there in the dust and having one godawful time . I turned around to take her home . <p> It was so hopeless . She trailed along about a hundred yards behind me , clearly humiliated . Then , last straw , along @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ circle Sadie , all friendly and bouncy , racing round and round that old exhausted dog . Just really running circles around her - I 'd never seen that expression so true . <p> Well , I wanted to cry . I looked back there and saw Sadie , barely able to stand , growling at the little bitch who paid her no mind , just kept on frolicking round and round . Finally , Sadie started to move . She inched forward while the pup circled madly , enjoying the game . Yapping , bounding , barking - the worst kind of annoyance you can imagine . Sadie ignored her , just kept walking real slow , in a kind of sideways shuffle . <p> I picked up a strong to throw ( Alice holds up a white arm ; it trembles ) , to chase that bitch off . But then I knew . I saw Sadie 's strategy and just stopped my arm , midway . Sadie was moving in tiny slow steps closer and closer to the edge of the hill . And the silly pup was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It took a very long time , but finally it worked , just as Sadie planned . She stood quivering on the very edge of the hill , and the bitch , in a last vast sprinting circle , went right on over that edge and rolled down through bramble and thorn to the creek , where she plunged , wet and whining and thoroughly shamed . <p> And I swear , I swear to every god that lives , that Sadie trotted all the way home , and she never fell once . <p> Oh how that dog lived . <p> Article copyright Governors State University and Helen Hughes . <p> Article copyright Governors State University and Helen Hughes . <p> 
##1002670 LESSONS IN VASTNESS . <p> She frowns and cricks her neck , rearranges her bulk , again and again , shifting her weight first from one haunch and then to the other . I avert my eyes ; read a sign on the fence across from the bus stop . Poor thing , I think , she must be uncomfortable . She sighs . Her great mesa of a belly heaves in what I take to be discomfort . Poor thing , I think again , fancy lugging that great weight around . I find myself looking at her again ; something about her reminds me a little of my Aunt Jeanie , What a pity . Like Aunt Jeanie , this woman could probably be pretty if she were n't so fat . I sit up straighter on the bench , suck in my belly , and count to ten , regretting the Almond Joy I ate this afternoon . <p> Judith , following my eyes , shakes her head , a sneer shadowing her lips as she whispers , " How can a person have so @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thing about fat , anybody 's fat , whether it truly exists or not . Hers , mine , her mother 's , even strangers ' . I love Judith . I appreciate her concern for my health . But I had to wonder when she put our seven-week-old dachs-hund on a diet . <p> Judith hisses at me . " How can you even look at her , Kim ? " <p> The fat lady shrugs her shoulders , rolling them around and around , first to the front , then to the back . She moves her lips as she crosses her huge thighs beneath her . Plate tectonics - the phrase nudges its way into my head and I lean forward , curious to hear her words . Sitting there , cross-legged , the woman looks almost gracefull for all her bulk , one dimpled hand on each hillock of a knew . She grimaces and then grins at me . " Of course I go and miss my bus when I have n't been bale to do my yoga for the past few days . Bad timing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deeply . <p> Judith 's eyes widen and her eyebrows spike . I know that look and I hate to see it , even directed at someone else . But this time I have to agree with what I assume she must be thinking . Yoga ? I just ca n't see it , this woman the size of India , posturing and breathing like a Punjabi . <p> As if she 's read my mind , the woman laughs and shakes her head as Judith 's nostrils flare . " Yoga 's the key , you know , to withstanding any stress . It 's gotten me through bus rides in third world countries , a few hangovers , even visits from my lover 's family . " <p> I do n't know what to think or say , so I just smile politely and refold my newspaper . <p> Then I hear her rhythmic breathing . She tilts her head from side to side , a small smile beginning to settle across her florid face . Aunt Jeanie . I have n't thought of her in years . Judith @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ n't know what to make of her . None of them has ever met anybody with so many rules . They 're all back in Illinois , so I do n't have to give them much thought . But this fat lady reminds me of Aunt Jeanie . Jeanie - always dying to dance at family weddings , but her husband refuses . Says the two of them would look ridiculous . Once I asked her to dance with me ; I could n't believe how well that woman could polka . <p> When the driver pulls up , Judith and I follow the fat lady onto the bus . Her orange blouse wrinkles across her massive hips like a sunset over Arizona . I can feel Judith 's revulsion , see her newly remembered resolve to give up ice cream bars and fettuccine as she emphatically turns her head away from the woman 's body , afraid she might catch obesity just by looking . <p> Sometimes I think Judith makes so many rules just so she can feel disgusted when she breaks one . Nobody matches Judith for motivation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ herself . I bet she 'll dig out her Danskins and head for the spa as soon as we get home . As we get off the bus at Canterbury Square , I see the fat lady on the bench at the back of the bus , eyes closed , knees akimbo , her belly heaving in slow , rhythmic swells . Her monumental fingers curl a smile in her lap . <p> I was right about the spa . In fact , Judith insists we both go . <p> " I saw that candy wrapper in your briefcase , Kim , " she says as she tosses me my sweatpants . " You 're gon na have to work if you do n't want that fat roll to reappear above your waistband . " <p> I pull on my sweats , grumbling , " So when did love handles lose their allure ? " <p> After workouts , we eat a dinner of shrimp salad ( dressing on the side ) , two slices of melba toast , and Voslau mineral water . What I like best about Judith 's @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ feels she has been " good . " Sure enough , after dinner , Judith suggests we treat ourselves to fresh strawberry daiquiris at the Blue Note . <p> To my surprise , the fat lady is there , her arm a small continent on the shoulder of her partner . Her hair is moussed . Her nails and lips are carmine , as are her shoes . I watch her pay the waitress for three glasses of water and a gin and tonic for her friend . She smiles up at the waitress , who seems to know her . " We plan to dance until the band goes home , honey . So be sure to keep us in water , ya hear ? " <p> Suddenly I realize I do n't want Judith to notice the fat woman . So I direct her attention to the stage , laugh unusually vigorously at her jokes , point out the new neon sculpture above the bar . But my efforts to protect the woman are futile . She seems to conspire against herself , sabotaging any chance of being inconspicuous @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and golden across the promontories of her breasts . She laughs out loud , of glee , as she pulls her partner into the middle of the empty dance floor . My sweetheart sucks her teeth with scorn . <p> I wave at the waitress , order two more drinks . Judith wants popcorn . She hesitates , then remembers how good she 'd been at the spa and dinner . She can afford a little treat . As long as it 's not buttered , it 's no great sin . But no distraction is big enough to keep her from staring at the fat lady . She shakes and shouts , whoops out loud as she heaves her groin in thunderous counterpoint to the bass player 's thumping rhythms . <p> Judith coughs on a handful of popcorn . She splutters , " Would you just look at her ? How can she flaunt her deformity like that ? " <p> I do n't know why , but I blush . When Judith declines to dance , I suggest we go home . <p> Back at the condo , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the curtains and wallpaper , Judith eats a bowl of celery and carrots , painstakingly calculating calories consumed , calories spent in the past day . She does n't even need to consult her calorie counter ; she know it all be heart . As she shrugs my lips off her shoulder , the ruffles of her Laura Ashley nightgown strike me as incongruously soft across the starkness of her breastbone . Arsenio smirks from his usual spot just beyond the end of the bed . Then he starts in on Roseanne Barr . <p> Groaning quietly , I escape something I ca n't exactly name , but I know it 's hard and vicious and contrary . I pull an eyelet pillow across my face , its softness and bulk somehow comforting . Suddenly I see that fat lady on the dance floor as Judith and I left the club . Her hands were like islands around her partner 's waist , their bodies joined and moving to the rifts of the saxophone . <p> Judith chortles at Arsenio 's poison , punctuating the crunching veggies as she lies so @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the fullness of the pillow , I visualize sequins sparkling over the vital cosmos of that woman 's body . I imagine her as she kissed her partner , exploding galaxies of passion visible there between them , a smile as big as the universe on her fleshy lips . <p> Article copyright Radiance . <p> Article copyright Radiance . <p> Illustration ( A heavy woman ) <p> 
##1002674 I wish I had a movie camera , because then I could start this story at the beginning , where all stories should but usually ca n't start -- at the beginning of the day , on a flower , I 'd watch with you , we 'd both wait the minute or the hour that it takes for the flower to open , a rose let 's say , so we can visualize it , a white rose , a white rose that opens with the sunrise and reflects the sun 's color and reveals on each petal a single word , you can make out a couple though not all of them , sister , you read , and died and August , but you ca n't see all the words , nor how they fit together , until I stop the camera and pull the petals from the flower and lay them end to end , in other words , until I write this story 's first line : Martin died in August ; in September , my sister was married , and already something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a flower . <p> And whose beginning is this anyway ? Mine ? My sister 's ? The beginning of her new life , she called it on the phone . Most of summer 's humidity had burned from the air when she called . The telephone was hot against my ear , through the open window came a haze of heat , and as she told me about her new life , I wondered what her old one was , and why it ended , but I did n't tell her this , I just pulled loose threads from my cut-offs and dropped them to the ground six floors below . She says , So I do n't even have to ask if you 're coming , just when , right ? I think of an old joke -- coming ? I 'm not even excited -- but I settle for , Next week , and then she puts my father on and he asks me when I 'm going to start my new life , and I laugh and let him insist on buying my ticket even though I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 23 , and I have Martin 's money too , now , but I do n't tell him that . And I do n't remember him hanging up , only the phone 's unh unh unh unh , and then , after I unplugged it , its silence . <p> The lesbian who booked my flight remembered my destination , not my name . Hi , Aruba ? she said . I nodded , smiled , sat in the chair her finger pointed to . This time I 'm going to another state , I said . I She waited , finally asked , Which one ? Kansas , I said . You 're from Kansas ? Yes , how 'd you know ? Only people from Kansas go to Kansas , especially in September . Soon enough she handed me a ticket . Here you go , one Emerald City Express . We laughed . She caught me with a question on my way out . Wedding , she asked , or funeral ? She laughed again . Both , I said , and did n't laugh , and left @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home . <p> The Emerald City Express takes its time ; from New York I fly to Kansas City , from K.C. to Wichita , from Wichita to Garden City , and there my mother and my sister greet me as I get off a plane whose single prop blows hot dry air through my body . My mother kisses me and says , Three years . Susan just stares , at my mouth it seems , and I wonder if my smile is that forced . Then Susan coughs and says , Lord , but are n't your teeth white ? Who'd 've ever thought you who never brushed your teeth would end up with such white ones ? The teeth-brushing part is n't true : I brushed every day , twice a day , just not very well , and I had a fiercely satisfied sweet tooth which I 've since lost ( when Martin went macro two years ago I did as well ) . This is what goes through my mind , not these words but their images , and other images too , of my childhood @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Oreos and milk after school , and driving me to the dentist ( this wo n't hurt a bit ) , and sixteen cavities later , driving me home ( an ice-cold milk shake will make your mouth feel much better ) , and then these images give way to New York and Martin pulling organic vegetables and brown rice from a shopping bag ( they think that diet has something to do with it ) . I remember all this -- the mind works fast , it does n't take too long , but it takes long enough -- and my own forced smile is reflected on their faces : three identical smiles , as it 's my mother that Susan and I take after . I laugh and I resist the urge to say , Who'd 've ever thought a lot of things would happen ? and instead I lean forward and kiss Susan , which surprises her , and I pick up my suitcases , one containing underwear and socks and T-shirts and shorts and all the letters Martin ever sent to me , and the other some @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ turns cool , and all the letters anyone -- except me -- ever sent to Martin , and I say , Congratulations . <p> Martin died in August ; in September , my sister was married . Martin died early in the month , on the third to be exact , at a little after 3 in the morning , in the hospital . My sister 's wedding is on the 30th , so really , two months , not one , separate these events . That 's time enough to process a lot of information , and that 's what I did , turn it into information , like a computer does : Martin is dead , I told myself . My sister is getting married . Turning it into two discrete units like that made it easy for me to believe they had nothing to do with each other . And do they have anything to do with each other ? Should they ? Should I have said , Susan , my lover just died , I want to attend your wedding but frankly , I 'm not up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for a while , can you postpone it ? But of course that raises an entirely different issue : telling my family -- whom I love , and whom I 've come to depend on more and more as the world seems to make less and less sense -- that I 'm gay . It 's not them I depend on , not exactly , but my memories of growing up with them , how sane everything was then . And my family loves me too , but there are some things they do not accept and -- and , yes , I 've tried , I 've approached the subject a hundred different ways , and every time I see my mother start to smooth her hair , my sister rub her flat palms across the tops of her thighs , my father push his hand under the lip of his stomach that hangs over his belt and scratch , I stop . There 's just nothing I can do about it . I 'll sit in the back seat , I said , when my mother offered me the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seat and I 'll look at the backs of your heads as you talk to each other about the bridesmaids ' dresses and last-minute alterations and this other man , Galen , the groom , who was due the next day from Chicago , where he was on business . It was easy to be quiet in the back seat , to think about all this and yet not mention any of it , to look at those two , at their perms , at the gold highlights etched through the brown hair on both of their heads , and on mine too ( the brown , not the gold ) . Susan , I said , Did you do Mom 's hair ? Susan is a cosmetologist . Yes I sure did , she said , and I 'm going to be doing Galen 's for him tomorrow too . This seems to be a new thing with Susan -- the inclusion of extra words at the beginning and middle and end of everything she says , so that it takes her twice as long to say something as it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ask her about this . I did n't say , Why do you feel the need to talk talk talk about nothing nothing nothing at all ? I only said , It looks nice , and then I said , I 'm tired , and I lay down on the back seat , closed my eyes , and thought about Martin , my husband , my dead husband . <p> Dinner : an implosion . Meanings conflate , and everything becomes confused . Blurred , maybe blurred is a better word . My father and my mother and my sister and I sit around the kitchen table , which is circular , like a compass , and I , tucked into a corner of the room , feel like I 'm at its bottom , where S should be , and my father is at N , my mother at E , my sister at W , and during dinner I make what I will come to consider a mistake . I remember that we had a dog once , a gray German shepherd named Bashful , who was anything but @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ until I slipped her pieces of meat , and who died when I was 5 or 6 . I 've always said that a person who does n't talk at dinnertime has something on his mind , I heard my mother say , and -- oh , Mom , why 'd you do it ? Could n't you have been a little less caring for once , left well enough alone ? I looked up from my mashed potatoes at her . Who me ? I said . No , nothing 's on my mind , I said , and I thought just then ( maybe it was the potatoes ) of the way Martin used to be able to shoot a stream of cum three feet into the air . Our first time together , it flew over his shoulder and splashed on my pillow . ( My ex used to call me Tex , he told me . Why ? I asked . Because I was always shooting over my shoulder . ) Now my father said , Aw , come on , John , you have n't said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was an earnestness to his words that put me off . I looked at my plate again , then at my mother . Food 's great , I said . Do n't try to change the subject . What 's wrong ? I just looked at her . It was like the compass needle had somehow managed to swing away from north and was pointing at me , like an arrow . Cum was flying in front of my eyes like carbonated milk , landing on the roast , in the gravy , mixing right in with the creamed broccoli . Hey everybody , my sister announced from the West Coast , I 'm gon na be walking down the aisle in a couple of days , this is my day , maybe we could maintain a more cheerful atmosphere ? My head snapped in her direction . All of a sudden I wanted to spit . Does n't she know , I thought , ca n't she tell ? My sister sat back , visibly frightened , and I felt the hardness in my face , realized then that of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I had n't told her . That 's when it happened . I had to make up some excuse , something , explain myself . <p> My dog died . <p> The words trotted out of my mouth like little animals themselves . They pranced across the table and licked up Martin 's cum . I looked at Everyone , one at a time , my sister , my father , my mother . They all looked confused , and just a little scared . My dog died , I repeated . I had him for a really long time , I guess that 's why I 'm acting so strange . After a moment my mother broke the silence . I 'm sorry , dear , she said , and then they all picked up their forks again , their knives , they cut their meat and brought food to their mouths , and they were quiet for the rest of the meal . I guess they , too , all had things on their minds . <p> This story was originally conceived for but not published in Dale @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Strauss &; Giroux ) . Peck has also contributed to Out , Outweek and QW . <p> 
##1002677 Later , when she was much much grown , Ogyaanowa was to ask herself what she would have preferred if she had been consulted : <p> staying in their room and watching her parents fight ; or sitting outside at the dining table , pretending to eat porridge and hearing them quarrel . <p> Actually , that morning , no one had consulted her . She had had to eat the porridge as part of having to get ready to go to school . She wished she did n't have to go to school . She wished she had already gone to school . She wished , maybe , she had n't had even to wake up . She did n't know that morning that she was thinking of these things . All she knew was that she was very unhappy . <p> Just ask anybody . There are many thoughts that come into our minds which we are not aware of , at the time we are doing the thinking . Feelings can be even worse . <p> Ogyaanowa did n't feel like eating any porridge that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of porridge fell off the table . The bowl , which was plastic , rolled away , building a solid line of porridge on the floor . Ogyaanowa started to cry . <p> The commotion that was coming out of her parents ' room was terrible . They had turned the radio on , thinking the noise from it drowned their voices . It did n't though . True , if you were trying to listen from where Ogyaanowa was sitting , you would n't have been able to make out the words ; although you would also have known that something was going on that was not quite normal . But for the child this had become quite regular . At least , that is what she might have said if anyone had asked her about it , and if she had had a more grown-up language . <p> When Esi opened the door to the bedroom , she was quite surprised to see Oko still in bed . <p> Strange , she thought , for a man who takes his work as seriously as he does . <p> She @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dressing table , took what she would need , and brought the things to her side of the bed ; some cream for her skin , a deodorant stick , a very mild toilet spray . She sat down , and picking these one by one , she started getting her body ready for the day . <p> As for the day , it was very young ; but already the breeze that was blowing was maturely hot , as expected . In the course of it , for the next ten hours or so , there might be slight variations in temperature , a centigrade down , a few fahrenheits up . No one would take notice . <p> As she picked this up and poured a bit of that into her palm and rubbed it on parts of her body , Oko looked at her . Lying down and watching her go through the motions of dressing was a pleasure he was fully enjoying this particular morning . It occurred to him then , as it had occurred to him on countless other mornings before , that Esi had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ schoolgirl ways . <p> For a teacher in a coeducational school , and soon to be a headmaster of one , this is a very dangerous thought indeed . He scolded himself . <p> Esi was a tall woman . That fact made a short man of Oko , since people mostly expect any man to be taller than his wife , and he was the same height as her . She was quite thin too , which gave her an elegance that was recognized by all except members of her own family . When she was younger and growing up in the big compound with her cousins and other family members of the extended family , she had had to be extremely careful about starting a quarrel with anyone . Because no one lost the chance to call her beanpole , bamboo , pestle or any such name which in their language described tall , thin , and uncurved . <p> I love this body . But it is her sassy navel that kills me , thought Oko , watching the little protrusion , and feeling some heating up at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 's mother could have read his thoughts , she would have told him that that dainty affair had nearly killed her daughter . For , instead of healing after a couple of weeks , like any baby 's , Esi 's had taken its time , going almost septic at one point . Meanwhile , as every old lady in the village reminded her throughout her childhood , Esi had been such a grouchy , wailing infant , her tummy had normally looked liked a pumped balloon . So that even when the navel healed , it still stuck out . <p> Soon the bedroom filled out with a mixture of scents . <p> " Are n't you getting up at all this morning ? " Esi finally asked . Following her question , relief flooded through her like the effect of a good drink . For these days communication between them had ground to a halt , each of them virtually afraid of saying anything that might prove to be potentially explosive . And these days nearly everything was . <p> She need n't have worried . Oko had , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and misunderstandings were behind him . Even hopefully behind them both . In any case , he had decided to give the relationship another chance . <p> If you are being honest with yourself , you would admit that you have always given this relationship a chance , he told himself . <p> Thinking of how much he had invested in the marriage with Esi , and how much he had fought to keep it going made him feel a little angry and a little embarrassed . With all that going on in his head , his penis , which had by then become really big and hard , almost collapsed . But since his eyes were still on Esi 's navel , the thing jerked itself up again . <p> He had always loved Esi . And what was wrong with that ? <p> " It 's not safe to show a woman you love her ... not too much anyway , " some male voice was telling him . But whose voice was that ? His father 's ? His Uncle Amoa 's ? He was n't sure that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ course those men and their kind hid their hearts very well . They were brought up to know how . On the other hand , they were also brought up too well to go around saying anything crude . No , it must have been one of his friends from boarding school days . They were always saying things of that sort . " Showing a woman you love her is like asking her to walk over you . How much of your love for how heavy her kicks . " And were they wrong ? Look at Esi . Two solid years of courtship , six years of marriage . And what had he got out of it ? Little . Nothing . No affection . Not even plain warmth . Nothing except one little daughter ! Esi had never stated it categorically that she did n't want any more children . But she was on those dreadful birth control things : pills , loops or whatever . She had gone on them soon after the child was born , and no amount of reasoning and pleading had persuaded her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at least one more ... a boy if possible . But even one more girl would have been welcome . <p> The fact that his mother and his sisters were always complaining to him about the unsafety of having an only child only made him feel worse . One of them had even suggested that he did himself and them the favor of trying to be interested in other women . That way , he could perhaps make some other children " outside . " The idea had n't appealed to him at all . In fact , for a long time , the thought of sleeping with anyone other than Esi had left him quite cold , no matter how brightly the sun was shining , or how hot the day was . Yet , what was he to do ? Esi definitely put her career well above any duties she owed as a wife . She was a great cook , who complained endlessly any time she had to enter the kitchen . Their home was generally run by an elderly house help , whom they both called " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with her job as a data analyst with the government 's statistical bureau ; its urban development , that is . <p> Good God , what on earth did that mean ? <p> He knew she was very much respected by her colleagues and other people who knew the work she did . So she could not really be trying so hard to impress : leaving the house virtually at dawn ; returning home at dusk ; often bringing work home ? Then there were all those conferences . Geneva , Addis , Dakar one half of the year ; Rome , Lusaka , Lagos the other half . <p> Is Esi too an African woman ? She not only is , but there are plenty of them around these days ... these days ... these days . <p> Esi rose , picked up her tubes and bottles to return them to the dressing table . Oko 's voice stopped her . <p> " My friends are laughing at me , " he said . <p> Silence . <p> " They think I 'm not behaving like a man . " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the declaration . <p> " Are n't you saying anything ? " Oko 's voice was full of pleading . <p> " What would you like me to say ? " she spoke at last , trying very hard to keep the irritation out of her voice . <p> " You do n't care what my friends think of me ? " he pressed . <p> When she spoke again , the irritation was out , strong and breathing . " Oko , you know that we have been over this so many times . We all make friends . They either respect us for what we are , or they do n't . And whether we keep them or not depends on each one of us . I can not take care of what your friends say to you , think of you , or do to you . " <p> " I need my friends , " he said . <p> " I also need mine , " she said . <p> " Opokuya is a good woman , " he said . <p> Esi yawned , groped for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . Oko snatched the watch from her , and threw it on the bedside table on his side of the bed . <p> " What did you do that for ? " Esi demanded . <p> For an answer , Oko flung the bed-cloth away from him , sat up , pulled her down , and moved on her . Esi started to protest . But he went on doing what he had determined to do all morning . He squeezed her breast repeatedly , thrust his tongue into her mouth , forced her unwilling legs apart , entered her , plunging in and out of her , thrashing to the left , to the right , pounding and just pounding away . Then it was all over . Breathing like a marathon runner at the end of a particularly grueling race , he got off her , and fell heavily back on his side of the bed . He tried to draw the bedcloth to cover both of them again . <p> For some time , neither of them spoke . There was nothing else he wanted to say , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , not for a while . <p> What does one do with this much rage ? This much frustration ? This much deliberate provocation so early in the morning , and early in the week ? <p> She could go back to the bathroom and clean herself with a wet towel , just standing by the handbasin . She could go and run a full bath again and briefly soak her whole self up . Either way , she could be out of the house in another half an hour , drop Ogyaanowa at her school , and be only a little late for work . Or she could forget about going to work altogether , wait until Oko had got himself up and taken the child to school , and then have a good cry . She preferred the latter option , but dared not take it . Not show up at work at all the whole day ? And a Monday too ? Impossible . It was bad enough that she was going to be late . A woman in her kind of job must be careful ... <p> @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . He was already feeling like telling Esi that he was sorry . But he was also convinced he must n't . He got out of bed , taking the entire sleeping cloth with him . Esi 's anger rose to an exploding pitch . Not just because Oko taking the cloth left her completely naked , or because she was feeling uncomfortably wet between the thighs . What really finished her was her eyes catching sight of the cloth trailing behind Oko , who looked like some arrogant king as he opened the door to get to the bathroom before her . She sucked her teeth , or made the noise which is normally described , inadequately , in English as a sucking of the teeth . It was thin , but loud , and very long . In a contest with any of the fishwives about ten kilometers down the road from the Hotel Twentieth Century , she would have won . <p> One full hour later , she was easing her car into the parking lot of the Department of Urban Statistics . The car came to a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ keys from the ignition , dumped them irritably into her handbag , got out of the vehicle with an unconscious and characteristic haste , and literally ran to her office on the third floor of the building . This morning , she did not even bother to find out whether the lift was working . Since if it was , it would have been maybe only the sixth or seventh time the whole year , and most probably the last time before the end of the century . <p> Once in her office , she sat down , first to get her breath back . Then she just sat , uncharacteristically doing nothing at all . She became aware that she was in no hurry to do any work inside her office , or go out and meet anybody . In fact , she was rather surprised at the degree of lethargy she was feeling . She could not remember when last had she felt so clearly unwilling to face the world ... and then with a kind of shock , she realized that in spite of the second bath she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ feeling fresh or clean . <p> Clean ? It all came to her then . That what she had gone through with Oko had been marital rape . <p> " Marital rape ? " She began to laugh rather uncontrollably , and managed to stop herself only when it occurred to her that anyone coming upon her that minute would think she had lost her mind , which would not have been too far from the truth . In fact , her professional self was coldly telling her that she was hysterical . And is n't hysteria a form of mental derangement ? At that she got up and went to lock the door . <p> She could hardly remember what commitments were on her schedule for the day . Yes , there was some data analyzing she and her colleague had to do for the Minister . But that , mercifully , was for three o'clock that afternoon . <p> Marital rape . She sat down again , this time almost making herself comfortable . As if the state paid her to come and sit in her office to try @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ her was full of disapproval , while the other -- a kind of brand-new self -- could not have cared less . <p> Marital rape . Suddenly , she could see herself or some other woman sociologist presenting a paper on : <p> " The Prevalence of Marital Rape in the Urban African Environment " to a packed audience of academics . Overwhelmingly male , of course . A few women . As the presentation progresses , there are boos from the men , and uncomfortable titters from the women . At the end of it , there is predictable hostile outrage . <p> " Yes , we told you , did n't we ? What is burying us now are all these imported feminist ideas ... " <p> " And , dear lady colleague , how would you describe ' marital rape ' in Akan ? " <p> " Igbo ? ... Yoruba ? " <p> " Wolof ? ... or Temne ? " <p> " Kikuyu ? ... or Ki-Swahili ? " <p> " Chi-Shona ? " <p> " Zulu ? ... or Xhosa ? " <p> Or ... @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ n't she some long time ago said in an argument that <p> " you can not go around claiming that an idea or an item was imported into a given society unless you could also conclude that to the best of your knowledge , there is not , and never was any word or phrase in that society 's indigenous language which describes that idea or item " ? <p> By which and other proof , the claim that " plantain , " " cassava , " and other African staples came from Asia or the Americas could only be sustained by racist historians and lazy African academics ? Both suffering from the same disease : allergy to serious , honest research ... African staples coming from the Americas ? Ha , ha , ha ! ... Incidentally , what did the slaves take there with them by the way of something to grow and eat ? ... What a magnificent way to turn history on its head ! ... She told herself that when it came to poor history getting turned on its head , there was too much of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ anyway ... <p> But marital rape ? No . The society could not possibly have an indigenous word or phrase for it . Sex is something a husband claims from his wife as his right . Any time . And at his convenience . Besides , any " sane " person , especially sane women , would consider any other woman lucky or talented or both , who can make her husband lose his head like that . <p> What does she use ? So well-known stuff ? It must be a new product from Europe or America .... You know how often she travels . " Ei , Esi Sekyi ... and she always looks so busily professional ... and so booklong ! " <p> And here she was , not feeling academic or intellectual at all , but angry , and sore .... And even after a good bath before and after , still dirty .... Dirty ! ... Ah-h-h-h , the word was out . <p> She put her head on her desk . She must have dozed off for a minute or two . She woke up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mind cleared , she realized that she had made a decision . <p> Ama Ata Aido is a prominent Ghanian writer , playwright , and poet . Her books include " No Sweetness Here " ( Longman , U.K. , 1970 ) and " Our Sister Killjoy : Or Reflections from a Black-eyed Squint " ( Longman , U.K. , 1977 ) . <p> 
##1002753 Man is the only risible animal . <p> -- Aristotle <p> When the Dublin police came knocking on Gertie Doyle 's front door one day to inform her that her husband Tom had been run over in O'Connell Street by a number 44A bus and was dead on admission to Jervis Street Hospital , Gertie wanted to die herself . She took to running in circles . My Ma and my Aunt Flo had to restrain her from running in circles and from screaming for the Sacred Heart of Jesus to help her . My Ma and my Aunt Flo helped her . Flo was Gertie 's best friend ; they had grown up together , made their First Holy Communion together and had been married together in a double wedding . Their children had all been born around the same time . Gertie and Flo planned it like that ; their husbands were lovely men ; they never knew what to think . <p> My Aunt Flo kept me busy helping Nora , Gertie 's eldest daughter , with the housework and the smaller children , while @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which seemed to be an impossible task ; every time they let her go , she ran in circles . Eventually , Flo sent for Doctor O'Donnell to take a look at Gertie , in case she was going out of her mind , with the running in circles and calling for divine aid . Doctor O'Donnell gave Gertie a small white tablet and instructed Flo to give Gertie one more tablet every three hours until all eight tablets were gone , which Flo did . <p> By eleven o'clock that night , all eight tablets were inside Gertie and she was still running in circles , although I must admit that the circles had somewhat slowed down . My Ma said that pills and grief should be kept apart . My Auntie Flo said that medical science had advanced to the point where it knew what to do in cases of extreme grief . My Ma set out a hot cup of tea for Gertie , on the table and announced that if Gertie ever wanted that tea , that she was going to have to stop running around in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ five minutes . There is something about the Irish and tea , even in emergencies ; it is not as sacred to them as whiskey , but it comes a very close second . <p> They buried Tom three days later , after an inquest . The inquest was unnecessary in everyone 's opinion , because we knew the driver of the bus had never intended to run over Tom . Tom himself could not benefit from an inquest , but the authorities had to have one . My Da sniffed when he heard about the inquest . When my Da sniffed and said nothing , we knew we were powerless . <p> The funeral took place at Glasnevin Cemetery on a Saturday morning . Gertie made a show of herself , jumping into the grave every chance she got . She held everything up . The priest got tired of intoning in Latin , he had to start the prayers for the dead four times and he ran out of holy water . He cast his eyes up toward the sky when , for the fifth time , during the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the grave again , got all tangled up with the ropes and had to be extricated by the pallbearers . We were all glad to get home when it was over . <p> On the way home , I heard all the adults extolling the virtues of the dead man , giving him credit for all sorts of things that were not really to his credit ; he had not been a saint , but you 'd think he was St. Francis of Assisi the way they went on about him . I think they were all grateful that he was the one who was hit by the bus and not them . <p> As time went by , we naturally expected Gertie to go through a period of grief and she did . This period , however , extended itself . She was inconsolable . She sat and cried nearly all the time although thanks be to God she gave up running in circles and screaming for the Sacred Heart . It was expected that Gertie would become involved with her children , taking them to school and telling them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do that . All she did was sit and cry or prevail upon my Aunt Flo to accompany her to Glasnevin Cemetery , where Gertie kept endless vigils by her husband 's grave . <p> Flo kept trying to involve Gertie in knitting woolen stockings and vests for her children for the coming winter but Gertie would have none of it . She insisted that her knitting needles reminded her of Tom . She had knitted cardigans for him on those same bone needles ever since they had met as teenagers . That had been almost twenty years before . Gertie had invested a lot of memories in those needles . When my Ma suggested that it might be better if the needles were thrown away , Gertie went into fresh floods of tears , declaring that she did n't have the heart to throw them out , they held so many memories of Tom . She could n't use them for the same reason . There was no sense or logic to Gertie , she was driving my Ma to drink . Flo had the patience of a saint with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , then , into the lives of those around her . My Ma said one day , that Gertie might benefit from a good kick . Father O'Sullivan from the parish church said that God was taking care of Gertie in His own way . I do n't know what kind of a way that was , because she was not getting any better . It could have been that maybe she was n't giving God a chance to get through , but either way , there was no improvement . Even at Mass , kneeling with Flo , Gertie would bow her head and cry , alternating between accepting the Will of God and asking Him , in a loud whisper , why all this had happened to her ; what had she done to deserve it ? Emotionally , in religion , she fed her grief and of course it grew . <p> Gertie lost her direction completely that summer and into the following autumn . She pined for Tom so much that we began to think that she would indeed die away after him . The gravediggers at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stood so often and so still , by Tom 's grave . Flo and Gertie never laughed or joked or gossiped sitting at the kitchen table , smoking cigarettes and drinking tea together , the way they had done for years . There was no pulling Gertie out of her grief ; the spirit of her laughter was gone . <p> September came . The days grew shorter and the rain fell colder . The children came home from school in the dusk and gathered after tea in the closes and doorways , swapping comics and talking about Halloween while the fog blew in from the sea and crept about them . Gertie 's children did not understand what had happened to their mother . The eldest girl , Nora , complained to me , that when her mother cooked , the food had a different flavor than it had when her father had been alive . Gertie 's grief must have been getting into her cooking . At this rate , said Nora , they 'd all be dead in a year . <p> The situation continued over the summer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the end of November . My Aunt Flo stood by her friend faithfully and assured us that if only Gertie could survive until the new year , that she would be fine after that . We never knew where Flo got her guarantees . <p> One Saturday afternoon , a dim slate-gray misty day with a wind from the north tearing our faces off , Gertie took it into her head to visit her husband 's grave . It was a perfect day for grief , a typical time for tears and morbidity . Gertie sent Nora over to my Aunt Flo to tell her that she was going to the cemetery and would Flo go with her ? My Aunt Flo pursed her lips and sighed as she buttoned up her coat and tied a headscarf on her head . Anyone could see that she thought this was a bit too much to ask on such a day , but she never said a word . I think she was offering it up to God . He must have been delighted with the sacrifice ; Flo had been very comfortable @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sharing a pot of tea , chatting up her husband , my Da , Ma , and myself , with the prospect of a very cozy evening ahead of her . <p> After Flo had left , my Uncle Paddy emptied the teapot dregs into the fire with a vengeance . I thought he was going to throw the whole teapot into the fire , but he did n't . He shook his head and went into the kitchen to read the newspaper . <p> It must have been about half past four when Gertie and Flo arrived at the cemetery . The place was deserted except for the two women . They were probably the only two people who would be in a cemetery on such a day , so late in the afternoon with a cold mist blowing and swirling about the tombstones and dead leaves shivering and whispering on the ground . Flo said she thought she 'd never get out of the place soon enough , it was so eerie . <p> They arrived at Tom 's grave . As usual , Gertie at once became absorbed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Flo moved away slowly , not wanting to look at the spectacle again , of Gertie in this state . She moved down through the aisle of graves and Celtic crosses , trying to take her mind off Gertie by reading the inscriptions on the gravestones . She leaned over to read one : <p> Mary Patricia Keenan <p> Beloved Wife of James Patrick <p> Keenan <p> Born Dublin , 1900 <p> Died Dublin , 1923 <p> Peter Augustine Keenan <p> Beloved Son <p> Born Dublin , 1923 <p> Survived Three Hours <p> God , thought Flo , what a tragedy for that poor man , losing his young wife and son in the same year , probably on the same day . She shivered and pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck for warmth . What a miserable bloody place to be in . She wished Gertie would shut up , the sound of her sobbing was being carried on the wind , making Flo very uncomfortable . <p> All of a sudden , Flo heard a rustle from the tombstone . She told us later that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with fright . She looked down and froze . Something was crawling slowly across the grave . The mist was too heavy to see clearly , but there was definitely something coming out of the grave . Flo tried to scream . A strangled yell rang out over the cemetery and Flo turned to run . She was so confused that she ran in a circle . Something gray and hairy brushed past her legs and she screamed for Jesus to save her . She was sure that the baby Keenan 's ghost had come up out of its grave and was looking for its mother . <p> The rabbit that Flo was screaming about , hopped down through the graves . It was trying , no doubt , to get away from Flo as fast as it could , being as terrified by her as she had been by it . <p> Flo heard a laugh . Now someone had told her once that the devil always laughs at you before he takes your guilty soul to hell . She thought that Satan had come for her . If there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ much fear to turn it into full-fledged panic and this is what happened to Flo . All of the guilt Flo had , for whatever infractions she had committed in her innocent life , rose up within her and she realized that the time had come to pay . Not even Jesus could save her now . She ran in another circle , still praying .... <p> Flo stopped suddenly . She knew that laugh and it did n't belong to Satan . It belonged to Gertie . It had been so long since Flo had heard that laugh , that she had not recognized it . She stood still , unable to believe her ears , trying to recover from her fright and her surprise at the same time . Gertie was laughing . Gertie was , in fact , in hysterics . At Flo 's scream , she had looked out of her misery in time to see the rabbit hopping away , disappearing into the mist , and to hear Flo screaming for help and running around in a panic . She had laughed . This was the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ almost a year and brought the spirit of laughter back into her . <p> Gertie Doyle laughed until the tears of mirth ran down her face and mingled with the tears of sorrow she had so recently shed for her dead mate . She leaned across his tombstone . Her handbag fell from her arm and her headscarf slipped from her head . She fell to her knees with laughter , onto his grave and called to her dead husband to look at that mad Flo , thinking that a rabbit was the devil himself , come to get her . She declared to him that she had never , in all her born days , seen anything so bloody funny . Gertie cried with laughter ; she cried and laughed at the same time until the two became one thing , and then something else . She thought she would die laughing . <p> Flo arrived , breathless , beside Gertie , grabbing her , gasping with fear , still , and incoherently trying to explain what had happened . This only served to send Gertie off into fresh peals @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of looking at Gertie before she gave a giggle herself . In another minute , the two women were totally into it , convulsed with laughter , unable to stop , holding one another up , grasping each other 's hands , begging each other to stop , or they 'd die , there in the graveyard . Gertie Doyle gasped out through her laughter , that they would n't have far to carry them after they found them ... their laughter rang out across the gloom of the cemetery and out over the walls , up into the trees and twilight sky ... it rang around the grave of Gertie 's husband and its tears fell upon the soil covering him . <p> It was almost pitch dark before the two women finally left the graveside and made their way , still laughing , through the huge gates . They laughed all the way home on the bus and told the bus conductor what had happened . He laughed so hard , he forgot to take their bus fares . The people on the bus , who had n't even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . They were laughing and they did n't even know what they were laughing at ... laughter was everywhere and people were helpless with it , over Flo and her rabbit . <p> Flo and Gertie arrived home at six o'clock , just as the Angelus was ringing . My Uncle Paddy was about to cook his own tea . He had to put down the frying pan and listen to what had happened and he laughed heartily when he heard the story . Even my Da laughed out loud when he heard , and he was n't even a laugher . We all sat around the fire , talking and laughing about it until almost seven . The story would never be forgotten , indeed , it would gather more humor as time went on . <p> Suddenly , Gertie caught sight of the clock on the mantelpiece . She jumped to her feet , and buttoning up her coat , declared matter-of-factly , that she really had no time to sit and chat ; she had a family of her own waiting for her at home to be fed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be put to bed . Then she had ironing to do . We would have to excuse her , but she had to go , thanks very much for the tea and the laugh . <p> Flo walked to the front door with her . We could hear them laughing as they said good-night and as Gertie closed the front gate , Flo called out to her to watch out for any rabbits on the way home . The last thing we heard was Gertie 's laugh as she ran down the road home . <p> My Aunt Flo came in and sat down by the fire . She smiled and shook her head . She looked at her husband . He smiled back at her . We were all smiling . My Da sniffed . Then he smiled , too . <p> " That 's that " he said . <p> And it was . Gertie never again grieved for Tom , or if she did , we never saw it . She came back to herself . She picked up her bone knitting needles again and knitted double time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were well fed , warmly dressed , and happy . Flo and Gertie sat again at the kitchen table , smoking cigarettes and drinking tea like they had done before . They gossiped about the neighbors and laughed about the things their children said . They went to Mass together , they did their shopping together , and their world together became what it had been before . <p> One day Flo asked Gertie why she never went any more to Glasnevin Cemetery , to visit Tom 's grave . <p> Gertie said that she really did n't need to go anymore . <p> That was one thing my Aunt Flo never understood . <p> I doubt very much if Gertie Doyle understood it either . <p> McKenna Byrne , born and raised in Ireland , is a prizewinning poet and fiction writer now based in Chicago , Illinois . <p> 