Vol. 49 No. 3 1982 - page 389

BEATRICE TAUSS
389
buzz and hum when Daniel won. Could such things be? We were all
learning. The evidence was incontrovertible. It did not escape his
fellows that Daniel flushed with joy as I pasted the star-his
first - on the chart. He returned in triumph to his seat.
The old order reasserted itself. Peter came to the door. Robin
Sandra was called . Though puzzled by the morning's events, she left
for the rehearsal with the hauteur that became the Princess.
Free play. There is a tug at my skirt and I look down into the
stricken face of Angela.
"Can I be the Princess too?" She is balancing on her left foot
while the big toe of the other works around the left ankle and calf.
She is punished for being skeletal and pallid, for having black wiry
hair that stands straight up at points, for inhaling mucous loudly
when she breathes, for having small , close-set eyes that give her the
look of a hungry, fearful chipmunk.
Some answer is expected of the substitute. No Princess looks up
at me with those anxious eyes . She waits for some word to change
everyth ing. She sniffles in a little snot and a droplet remains poised
at the tip of her nose.
0, sister, born to be overlooked, can I help you avert your fate?
Am I a maker of Princesses? Can I cause you to be golden and sh im–
mering? Can I teach you to expect nothing- how to be passed by
gracefully? Down with Princesses! Let there be no more....
"Maybe next time you will be the Princess." The words stick in
my throat. "But now, dear, what would you like to play?"
"I don't know," she says, and the right foot stops its agonized
dance. Her eyes say: I have been rejected and humiliated. I have
been left to yearn and long. Now I'm being lied to and false hopes
are being unconvincingly raised. What do you want me to want?
She retreats, sn iffling up the last drop, into stupidity.
She sits and watches Joe and Myra playing husband and wife .
Myra has fasten ed a bit of battered veil to her head. She slips her
arm through his and, married, they slowl y, solemnly circle the
room. He is fair and soft, a domesticated an imal. He a llows himself
to be paraded around and around. Myra, excited, never releases his
arm . She is victorious. Joe is calm, contented.
George, stuffed with bananas and sweet cream and giant salami
sandwiches, looks up from the garage he is building.
"Hey, Joe. Come on over here. What are you walking around
with her for? She's so small. "
"She'll grow," Joe says. Together they circle the grubby room.
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