It had rained, and she stood inside touching her nose to the screen door, watching the outside. She had on a white blouse, and a pink skirt that almost reached her knees. Her legs were covered with white stockings. She had on shiny, white shoes with straps that buckled in the front. Her hair was parted and combed into pig tails tied with pink ribbons. Her face was creamy white, and slightly puffy. She wanted to go into the outside.
Mommy had opened the big glass door when the rain stopped, but told her to stay inside. She saw that the grass had gotten very green after the rain, and that the petals had stayed on the white flowers, even though the raindrops had tried to knock them off. They were glistening. She thought mommy was confused. Baths are wet, and they were good. Outside is wet, and it was bad. She didn’t like baths because the shampoo made her close her eyes, and that scared her. Wet outside is nice. It feels good and makes everything clean and shiny. And, you don’t have to close your eyes.
The outside got brighter and the sparkles came out. She wanted to play in the sparkles. They would get all over her and she could dance in circles and everyone would think she was a princess, and daddy would take her to a ball, where she would meet a prince who would come home to play with her in the outside. Sparkles are magic. They come out after the rain when the blue comes back overhead and it hurts to look up. The sparkles play in the grass and on the trees and sometimes in the puddles on the sidewalk. Mommy doesn’t like sparkles. She always waits until they disappear before letting her into the outside.
“You can go play now, honey,” mommy said, as she swooshed open the screen door and set the doll carriage on the patio. In the carriage seat was a doll, a small plate, and a teacup. Mommy picked up a white, knitted sweater and roughly, but efficiently, pulled it over the girl’s head.
“Mommy, that hurts,” the girl cried, indignant at the callous treatment.
“Don’t be a baby. It’s cool outside, and we don’t want you catching a cold. Stay out of puddles, and stay near the patio.” Mommy closed the screen door behind her.
She stood for a moment, happy to be in the outside again. It was her world, where she was the mommy, and everything was fun, and nice. It was sunshiny bright, and the few puddles on the sidewalk were steaming. The tree that was always green, even with snow on it in winter, was smelling its sweet after the rain smell. It was only four big steps from the patio, and was fun to play around, but not under. Under it was dark and dirty, with branches that stuck you.
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” the doll said.
“Oh, dear, I forgot it’s your lunch time,” said the girl. “Come over to the table. We have nice sandwiches and some hot soup for you.” She lifted the doll out of the carriage and carried her to the green tree, sitting her near it. She then picked up the tea cup and scooped some hot soup into it, from the back of the carriage. She walked very, very, carefully, so as not to spill any soup, and set the cup in front of the doll.
“You drink your soup, but be careful, it’s very hot.” The doll sipped carefully, doing exactly as she was told, and then swallowed a spoonful when it cooled. The soup was good and it warmed the doll’s tummy and she finished it all.
“What a good little girl,” the girl said. She returned the cup to the carriage and picked up the plate. There was a sandwich where the soup pot used to be. “Now, here’s your sandwich,” she said. “It’s peanut butter with lots of jelly, just how you like it.”
“Whaaa!” the doll screamed. There was a bread heel on one side of the sandwich.
“Oh don’t be such a baby. The heel is good for you, and it’s only on one side,” the girl responded, coolly and logically.
“No!”
“Oh, all right.” The girl turned over the sandwich and swapped the heel for a regular slice of bread. “Is that better?” The doll sniffled, and ate the sandwich.
“Now it’s time for our walk,” the girl said. She picked up the dish and the tea cup and walked to the sink behind the carriage. She washed them good, drained the water, and then put the dishes where the sink used to be. She returned to the green tree and picked up the doll, carried her to the carriage, and set her in the seat.
“It’s a nice day for the park,” she said, “and, fresh air is good for you.” She pushed the carriage a few feet.
“Mommy, take me to the swings.”
“No. Mommy is too tired to push the swing.” She turned the carriage and pushed it back a few feet. She walked back and forth like this for some time, pointing out the bushes to her baby, and they watched a bird land, look at them quizzically, and then fly off flapping its wings. They liked that. It was funny and the bird was friendly. They both laughed.
“It’s time to go shopping, because daddy will be home soon, and we have to make dinner,” the girl said. The doll liked the park very much, and she didn’t want to leave. The girl had to lift her up and give her a pat on her bottom. Then, she listened better. The girl tilted the carriage up over the curb and into the store.
“I think daddy would like a nice steak,” the girl said. She picked out a big, thick, red steak, and put it in the sack behind the carriage.
“Three dollars and fifteen cents,” the efficient clerk announced at the checkout counter. The girl opened her purse and handed over the money, counting it out with her hands, but not her mind. She then turned the carriage and walked it back to the kitchen on the other side of the green tree. She cooked a good dinner in the back of the carriage, making sure the steak was rare, just like daddy liked it.
“Hello honey, I’m home,” the girl said, in a throaty low tone that sounded like a man. “I’m really hungry.” Daddy walked in and sat at the dining room table.
“Dinner is all ready, and we have your favorite steak,” the girl answered. She took the plate from the back of the carriage and set it a few feet from the kitchen. “Here you are. How was your day at work, dear?”
“Oh, I had a hard day,” the low voice said. “I’m very tired.” He opened his newspaper and ate his steak.
“Baby was very bad in the park today. She cried and made a fuss and I had to spank her to make her go shopping with me.” The girl looked sternly at the doll. The doll got very scared.
“Send her to bed without any dinner,” the man of the house declared.
“All right,” the girl said. She picked up the doll and scolded her: “You were a bad girl, and daddy says you have to go to bed.” She turned the doll over and spanked her three good spanks. The doll cried loudly. She was still crying when mommy turned out the light, and closed the bedroom door.
The girl stood, and looked off into the distance, past the outside. A vague question formed in her mind, but she didn’t know enough about the beyond to express it. She stood in dreamy thoughts, her yellow hair sticking out of their pink bows. A minute passed. Suddenly, a loud, nasty, screech shocked her. It filled her with a wild fear, and she ran, without deciding to run, crying, without deciding to cry. She tugged on the screen door, and her mother slid it open.
“What happened honey?” said the large mommy, as she picked up the little girl, looking her over for cuts. “When will those kids learn the parking lot is not a race track.” She rocked her slowly and hugged her tightly. “Why don’t you help me set the table for dinner. You know how hungry daddy is after working all day.”
The girl sniffled. She could tell mommy was happy that daddy would soon be home. She kept quiet, though; she didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had already eaten.
James K. Richardson