Daughters (Open Novella Contest 2020)

Chapter One - Truth

The room was being sprinkled with dust if you looked at it from the angle in which the streaming sunlight caught every speck and made them sparkle as they floated down. The windows were open and they were giving passage to a light steady stream of april breeze. The radio was on, playing a story of the latest hero: a fifty-five year old man who saved Ms. Jackson's cat from drowning in the Gladys. How the cat had gotten there, was never explained. The girl, Delilah Truth Mason, was questioning. She stood in front of her full length mirror and questioned if she was suitable enough as she was to step into the world. She had been reading a lot about the beauty in minimalism; she saw girls that had thrown away their makeup and taken the color out of their hair. The problem with Delilah, she thought, is that she was too much on her own. Everything about her was big and bursting. Her eyes, her nose, her hair, her body, they all had too much to say. She hadn't been wearing the hats and the eyeshadow to emphasize, she had been wearing them to alter, and by altering, repress. The truth was Delilah didn't like herself, she liked who she could become.

Delilah closed her eyes and promised herself that this would be the last time. But she couldn't help but cross her fingers just in case. It wasn't good for her to be too hard on herself. She took out the lipstick.

"Where are you going?" Her mother asked in the kitchen.

Delilah stopped the slow walking and presented herself to her mother. She kept to the door, standing in a red skirt and silver earrings. "Just getting together to study, Mam. Exams are coming up."

Her mother didn't lift her eyes from the dough she was kneading. The Mason's were a self-producing people, to the point of handmade bread. "Stop at the store. We ran out of milk."

"Will do Mam."

Her mother stopped pushing against the floured table for a second. There was a sudden sincerity in her voice. "Be careful Delilah."

"I know Mam." Delilah reassured.

Ms. Mason resumed her work. They had never established eye contact, but she depended more on the tone of her daughter's voice to relax her heart. "Alright, go on girl."

Delilah shifted away and said a quick prayer for the sin she had just committed and those she was about to.

The door closed quietly.

Half way down the road they put their arms through hers.

"So what did you have to tell her this time." Marge said first.

"The usual. We're studying."

"You're such a bad girl Lilah!" Marge squealed at her.

"Shut your face!" Finn snapped back in Delilah's defense.

Delilah snuggled up to his chivalry and put her head on his shoulder. He pet her head of curls.

"Delilah is a sweetheart."

"You baby her too much Finn." Marge protested, but she was giggling.

"Come on, we'll be late."

They untangled themselves so they could take off running. They ran all the way to the West Bridge, then eased their way down the gravel path that led to the clearing under the bridge. When they arrived, there were already other children there, children their age. They had a speaker and were blasting something generic. Liquor filled the red plastic cups in their hands. Some of them were dancing on each other, most were standing and talking. By the time they had gotten close enough to the others, Delilah's face turned upside down from hearing what they were talking about. It wasn't about Founding Day like she had expected: the yearly celebration on April 13th of the establishment of their precious town. Founding Day was a day when mothers tried to bake something to make their families happy, teenagers hooked up for the first time, and everyone gathered in huddles on their sidewalks and driveways and watched thundering fireworks exploding from City Hall Park. It had come to them this passing Saturday. It was a day to be talked about. But it wasn't this grand event that people floated from tongue to tongue, it was something dark and heavy. Something that made people check that they were still standing on solid ground before they moved their lips. They talked about death.