started or maybe it was a combination of things, my namesake, the Dumas of Umbra, the porch crackle, lost adults everywhere I look and little girls who never want to grow up.
“Suck root for-ever!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Dirt rules! Ban Soap! Mud. Mud. Mud.” I stomped the tub and chanted. I fist pumped my arms like those hippy dope-smoking protestors I saw on TV in Washington State protesting the war.
“Rule the kingdom. Take your life back. Demand what’s yours. Take your place people.” Lena fought my emancipation like a heartless adult.
“Be still.” She says. She wrestled me every which way but loose. “Stop it. What has gotten into you?” Her wet washcloth dodged and darted me at every turn but my endorphins were too engaged to feel any pain—only revolt, revolution and rebellion.
“Never grow up. Fulfill your na mesake!” I screamed and marched. Bubbles were flying around the room like air balloons. Lena grew tired and slow and she was soaked till her breast formed two points. With all the commotion, dad poked his head through the door. His face said, what-the-hell-is-going-on . I gave him the helpless save your daughter look but the octopus in tercepted with the bent eyebrow. Lena was certain dad’s family tree of outlaws and renegades had tainted her precious seeds nobility and I was living proof. Dad skedaddled and I was left like a fledging to survive with a crazed octopus hell bent on pulling up my rebellious roots and then it escalated into effervescent madness. “Rule the kingdom. Take your life back. Demand what’s yours. Take your place people.” I yelled and yelled some more. She scrubbed and scrubbed some more. The generational sins of James Dean fell off me in scabs until I was raw and squeaky but the Willow tree did not break. It endured. It survived. I threatened to go outside and roll in the dirt like a dog after a bath but the Octopus said she’d dust me in old lady powder and make me go to school smelling like it. Ugh. My nose reared up at the thought. L ena-1. Willodean-0.
I reluctantly put on pajamas but for the re cord, I didn’t like it one bit and I made it known. I stomped to my room while the spent octopus sprawled out on the couch, soap bubbles smiling in her hair while she drank a glass of wine. Dad sitting across from her, was on his fifth beer. I could always tell by the empty can tower on the floor . He gave me a sympathetic glance right before I slammed the door of my room. I felt the piercing stare of Lena’s steely eyes through the wa lls. I smirked in satisfaction and sighed loud enough to blow my windows out.
“God. What a day.” I knelt at my bedside and pulled out my salvation. The mirror bin. Just seeing it made me feel better. It was a treasured gift from Maw Sue on the day I was born. According to family legend, this peculiar box, over six generations old holds my destiny, among other things I have n’t figured out yet. Maw Sue says time will tell me all things I need to know. Of course, she doesn’t have a clue that I’m not going to grow up, so there. Who knows what might happen now.
Stashed ins ide was all my favorite things. The rock I found at the creek, a milky crystal with jagged ends like teeth. A blue jay feather I found in the wondering tree, when I was praying for God t o take care of me, and wondered how he was going to do it, and all, since I knew me, and it wasn’t easy. I opened my eyes. The blue marvel was floating right in front of me as if it dropped from heaven. I grabbed it and with its touch the answer flooded my heart. If God takes care of the birds of the air, the beast of the earth, the lilies of the field, and the stars of heaven, then how much more will he take care of me. I shouldn’t worry about the how’s and why’s. He does it all. My heart swelled so big I thought I might break the limb. I always loved it when I
“Suck root for-ever!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Dirt rules! Ban Soap! Mud. Mud. Mud.” I stomped the tub and chanted. I fist pumped my arms like those hippy dope-smoking protestors I saw on TV in Washington State protesting the war.
“Rule the kingdom. Take your life back. Demand what’s yours. Take your place people.” Lena fought my emancipation like a heartless adult.
“Be still.” She says. She wrestled me every which way but loose. “Stop it. What has gotten into you?” Her wet washcloth dodged and darted me at every turn but my endorphins were too engaged to feel any pain—only revolt, revolution and rebellion.
“Never grow up. Fulfill your na mesake!” I screamed and marched. Bubbles were flying around the room like air balloons. Lena grew tired and slow and she was soaked till her breast formed two points. With all the commotion, dad poked his head through the door. His face said, what-the-hell-is-going-on . I gave him the helpless save your daughter look but the octopus in tercepted with the bent eyebrow. Lena was certain dad’s family tree of outlaws and renegades had tainted her precious seeds nobility and I was living proof. Dad skedaddled and I was left like a fledging to survive with a crazed octopus hell bent on pulling up my rebellious roots and then it escalated into effervescent madness. “Rule the kingdom. Take your life back. Demand what’s yours. Take your place people.” I yelled and yelled some more. She scrubbed and scrubbed some more. The generational sins of James Dean fell off me in scabs until I was raw and squeaky but the Willow tree did not break. It endured. It survived. I threatened to go outside and roll in the dirt like a dog after a bath but the Octopus said she’d dust me in old lady powder and make me go to school smelling like it. Ugh. My nose reared up at the thought. L ena-1. Willodean-0.
I reluctantly put on pajamas but for the re cord, I didn’t like it one bit and I made it known. I stomped to my room while the spent octopus sprawled out on the couch, soap bubbles smiling in her hair while she drank a glass of wine. Dad sitting across from her, was on his fifth beer. I could always tell by the empty can tower on the floor . He gave me a sympathetic glance right before I slammed the door of my room. I felt the piercing stare of Lena’s steely eyes through the wa lls. I smirked in satisfaction and sighed loud enough to blow my windows out.
“God. What a day.” I knelt at my bedside and pulled out my salvation. The mirror bin. Just seeing it made me feel better. It was a treasured gift from Maw Sue on the day I was born. According to family legend, this peculiar box, over six generations old holds my destiny, among other things I have n’t figured out yet. Maw Sue says time will tell me all things I need to know. Of course, she doesn’t have a clue that I’m not going to grow up, so there. Who knows what might happen now.
Stashed ins ide was all my favorite things. The rock I found at the creek, a milky crystal with jagged ends like teeth. A blue jay feather I found in the wondering tree, when I was praying for God t o take care of me, and wondered how he was going to do it, and all, since I knew me, and it wasn’t easy. I opened my eyes. The blue marvel was floating right in front of me as if it dropped from heaven. I grabbed it and with its touch the answer flooded my heart. If God takes care of the birds of the air, the beast of the earth, the lilies of the field, and the stars of heaven, then how much more will he take care of me. I shouldn’t worry about the how’s and why’s. He does it all. My heart swelled so big I thought I might break the limb. I always loved it when I
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