paperbag1

    Ma came home with a huge smile on her face, and a big brown paper bag under her arm. I was busy at the time, playing with my little brother Henry, or I would have inquired about the mysterious package.
     �Children, please come here. I have a surprise for you,� Ma called from the kitchen, while placing the paper bag on the small bare table. I picked Henry up by his armpits, and ran towards the kitchen. Peter, who had only been walking for several months, was wobbling in much the same fashion towards Ma�s call. As I ran past him, he teetered dangerously on his unstable feet, and crashed onto the hard wooden floor. His cry rang through the house, and Ma scolded me for tipping him over.
     �It wasn�t my fault, Ma. I can�t help it that he�s so small and barely able to walk properly!� I made a face at Peter, but he didn�t seem to notice. Ma picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. From high above me, Peter beamed, and his tears began to dry.
     �Did something arrive from Father?� I asked, and grinned. I missed my Father, and wished that he�d return home soon. I didn�t know where he was exactly, but I knew he had gone to better America in some place called France.
     �No, Mary, but it�s almost as nice,� Ma smiled, and put Peter back onto the floor. He let out a whimper and his lips trembled, but Ma�s sharp look caused him to sit still. Ma picked up the paper bag and opened it, digging her hand inside. She pulled out a large rectangular object, and turned it over in her hands.
     �What is it?� I stepped closer, but Ma pulled the object away, and looked at me tyrannically.
     �It�s not a toy, it�s a camera. It takes photographs, and it cost me a lot of money. It�s for Mothers and Fathers only, alright children? No fingers may touch it except for Mother�s and Father�s,� she said, yet her face immediately turned from harsh to tender. �Shall we try it out?�
     I jumped up and down excitedly, allowing Henry to flap his pudgy arms and his body to move in little jerks.
    �Mary! Stop that this instant, you�re hurting poor Henry!� Ma cried angrily, and tried to swipe Henry from my grasp, but he laughed hysterically.
     �He�s not being harmed. See? He likes it,� I smiled, and continued to bounce Henry up and down.
     �Be careful,� Ma warned and watched my moves carefully. �If there are any bumps or bruises on his sweet little body, I�ll write to your Father and tell him that you�re being a bad girl. You don�t want to disappoint your Father, do you?� I looked at the ground and shook my head. Without even looking, I knew Ma was smiling.
     �How about you go and put on your favourite pink dress, Mary? That would be nice for the picture, wouldn�t it?� Ma smiled and took Henry out of my arms.
     My arms ached, Henry was getting much too heavy for me to carry. As it was, he was almost as big as me, and with him squirming, it became much more difficult to hold on to him. When Ma took him out of my arms, it felt like I was a bird that had flown for hours on end and had just stopped for a rest. With arms tingling, I skipped joyfully into the room that Peter and I shared.
     My pink church dress hung from a wire hanger, and it looked as though a ghost wore it - this thought often haunted my nights. The light shone through my window enough for me to see the frilly dress, and its headless carcass.
     I slid carefully into the dress, my stockinged feet emerging out of the bottom. I ran out of our room quickly, the unzipped dress drooping from my shoulders to my elbows. Ma caught me in the hall, and zipped me into the dress. She ran her favourite ivory comb through my blonde curls, and tied a large floppy bow on the top of my head.
     �Perfect,� she smiled, and ran into her room to change my two younger siblings.

     It seemed to take forever for Ma to dress both Peter and Henry. During this time, I sat on a kitchen chair, staring up at the camera that sat forgotten on the table. I was tempted to run my tiny fingers down its dark sides, let my fingertips glide over the lens, and feel its heaviness in my palm. If I touched it, I thought, Ma wouldn�t notice. I glanced around the room - no one was there to witness the crime. I stood on my chair, and reached carefully towards the camera. Its feel under my trembling fingers was cool, but the texture was shockingly bumpy. My small blue eyes opened widely, and my other hand joined its twin on the camera�s surface.
     Ma�s heavy footsteps and roaring voice from the hall warned me long in advance of her coming. She was scolding Peter for unbuttoning his jacket, while pleading with Henry to keep his dirty fingers out of her hair. By the time she arrived in the kitchen, I was seated on the floor, with my guilty fingers writhing in my lap like ten fat leeches that were full of temptingly vile blood.
     �What are you up to?� Ma asked suspiciously as she stood in the door frame.
     �Nothing,� I replied, grinning sweetly.
      In response, Ma glanced around the room to confirm what I had said. There was a loud crash above us, almost as if a giant drum had been struck, sending out a deafening wave of sound.
     �It�s going to storm,� Ma sighed. She rushed towards me, stood me up, and turned me in the direction of the living room. �Grab my rocking chair, Mary, before it starts to rain,� Ma said, and readjusted Henry in her arms. As I ran into the living room, Peter started to mock the thunder. He hid under Ma�s long yellow dress, and popped out every now and then, screaming �BOOM!� insanely.
     �Peter, stop it!� Ma cried, and she tried to push him out from under her dress with one foot, while balancing Henry and the camera in her arms, and looking at me anxiously over her shoulder. �What�s taking you so long, Mary?� she called, a hint of impatience in her voice so obvious that Peter stopped what he was doing - for he knew, even at a year and three months, that Ma was upset.

                                                                                   Continued on Page 2

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