The Day I Walked Into the Wrong Room
Chapter 4: The Fear of Messing Up, Again
The women scrutinized me. Gale’s massive breasts hung low, the tips pointed towards the ground, with beads of moisture on the ends. Bigger than she appeared from a distance, she smelled of flowers, dirt, and loss. Her breasts dripped, a drop on my forehead, a drop on my nose, one on my chin, as milk doted her fingers. My mouth open while after-images danced behind my closed eyes. Her nipple touched my lower lip, I latched.
Sweet milk, subtle mint flavor, with a hint of bitterness, rolled over my tongue, down my throat, and filled my stomach. At the same time, something inside me, my soul, or essence, or ki, flowed in the other direction. I struggled to hold onto myself, as memories of Mother’s best friend, a teacher by training, stood over me, hair in a bun, kind eyes, always kind eyes, even as she punished me, for touching myself, for wetting my pants, for dropping my cup of milk.
My knuckles ached at the memory of the wood switch, the snap, her kind eyes, for my own good, but her son never received that correction, even when he threw his cup of her liquid gold onto the floor. The leader droned as I drank, how to position my head, my mouth, to increase the milk flow, to decrease the air intake, to give the best latch.
Something inside me connected with something inside Gale, and her story, her life, unfolded before me. A mother of three, owner of a flower shop, worked six days a week because, as a Christian, the shop closed on Sundays; no matter what, she wouldn’t even open for funerals or weddings, Christian or not, no matter the amount offered. Her family and her church meant everything to her.
Her oldest, Lucy, seven, worked in the store after school. Cut and arranged flowers, and while Gales starts her day at six am, with no lunch break, her energy returns with Lucy’s arrival. Her oldest always had fun stories, the drama of a child: who didn’t share the glue, who hit who with a soccerball, and which teacher brought cookies for their class. She dreaded Lucy’s growth and inevitable departure from the store. She dreaded the day when Lucy would no longer want to work, but Gale vowed not to do what her mother did and force family work onto her children.
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