a conflict of simplicity
Ellie held a long-sleeved shirt up to her chest. "Mary. How does this look?"
"Too conservative. Why don't you ever wear anything… you know…" Mary held up a sleeveless black V-neck and posed by way of explanation.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Um – no."
"Well, I like it," said Mary, retreating to the changing room with the black shirt. In a few minutes, she came back out, put the black shirt back on the rack – "Too big" – and picked up instead another T-shirt. She held it up and examined it – clever, she thought – printed across the chest was a sarcastic quip making fun of –
"Since when are you interested in making political statements?" said Ellie.
"I'm not," said Mary. "I just thought it was funny. I wouldn't wear it –" and she put it back onto the shelf, folded haphazardly, slogan hidden by the grey folds of fabric. "Anyway, I'm bored. You ready?"
Ellie nodded and put the long-sleeved shirt back where she had found it. Clutching her purse, she wove through the turning racks of clothes and stepped over discarded shirts in the aisles, feeling relieved when she arrived at the exit. She looked back and watched Mary stride forward, lithe in her tight clothing and tall in her heels, swaying her hips in the artful way invented by trendy clothes stores.
But Ellie smiled when Mary tripped over a sweater lying in the aisle.
-----
Sitting at a café after having shopped all morning, Ellie thought about buying shirts and buying identities, about Mary's four-inch heels and her own three-year-old black Mary Janes. It was fine, she thought, that Mary wore tight clothes, that she flaunted her thin figure – like it was fine that Ellie wore loose shirts and baggy pants and had not combed her hair that morning. What did it matter, anyway?
But she looked across the table at Mary drinking her coffee with non-fat milk and three packets of Sweet & Low, then down at her own cinnamon muffin and whole-milk hot chocolate – and thought about the little black top back in the edgy store – and the liberal T-shirt –
"I should've bought that shirt," said Mary, holding her coffee cup poised perfectly in one hand, the other hand fluttering about in the air. "It was funny."
"It was kind of dumb," said Ellie.
"But funny."
Ellie broke off a big piece of her muffin and ate it.
-----
Driving with Mary was always a little bit of an adventure. The sun glinted off of the other cars whirring by, and beat down through the windshield. Ellie put the visor down and sat back in her seat as Mary sped around a corner and turned up the music.
"I really should've bought that shirt!" said Mary, drumming the steering wheel with her fingers.
"Go back and get it tomorrow."
"Maybe."
Ellie turned her head and looked out the window, at the houses zooming by, colors, white and green and yellow, stretching, zipping past, the wind accelerating, turbulent against the glass.
"You always do that, you know," Ellie said.
"What?"
"Almost buy something, then regret not buying it. Every single time we go out."
"I know. I can never decide if I want something or not."
"But you always decide later that you really did want it."
"Sometimes."
The song on the radio ended.
"Maybe I didn't want the shirt. It was too political."
"I should've gotten that other shirt – the long-sleeved one," said Ellie after a little while.
"It looked kind of nice."
"You said it was too conservative."
"Oh, El – you can't trust what I say, you know."
-----
The sun was setting all in yellow. Ellie and Mary sat together on the cliff overlooking the pond, sharing a lemonade, feeling peaceful as the last light filled the water and flooded up the hill.
"Today was fun," said Mary.
Ellie nodded.
They were silent, sipping lemonade and warm sunlight. Ellie sat with her thoughts, calm, glad, really, to be with a friend. She thought about Mary's high heels, which she had taken off at the foot of the hill – she turned around and looked at them, lonely and dark in the shadows back there.
"I'm glad I didn't buy the shirt," said Mary.
Ellie only smiled.
She sat with a handful of memories – things, times, last year. Pretty soon they would be able to say things like, You remember when we were in high school, and this happened? Kind of strange. Ellie smirked; kind of cliché. But fun anyway.
"Hey. You remember those auction-things they used to do at school?" said Ellie eventually. Mary nodded. "Shopping reminds me of them. People grabbing for clothes and things. Trying to out-buy each other."
"I went to one once. The auctions. It was boring. I left early."
"Well, I never went. But I always imagined them a certain way. People holding up those plaque-things and bidding…"
"They had a big bucket of names and picked a random one."
"Weird… If there had been those white paddles I might've gone. And worn a skirt, you know, and white blouse – and lifted up my paddle –"
Mary laughed. "The students didn't, though – they couldn't bid. Only parents."
"Oh."
"It was boring," said Mary. "You would've hated it."
"Maybe…" Ellie pulled up a piece of grass and fiddled with it in her hands. "I always thought it was kind of weird, those auctions. All snobby with big-nosed ladies sticking up their paddles." Like bristling porcupines. "I thought everyone would secretly hate each other and outbid each other for spite."
Ellie glanced over at Mary – they were both smiling.
"That would've been kind of funny," said Mary.
"Hm."
"But really it was boring. They all wore nice pants, no skirts, no dresses – and sat chatting at picnic tables while somebody pulled the names out."
"I would've liked that, maybe. Picnic tables."
Mary watched a squirrel scuttling up a tree-branch, watched the pond-water ripple as something, a rock?, fell in.
"There was good ice cream once."
"Really?" said Ellie.
"But once, I remember, Jamie's dad went, and he got all mad, at everybody chatting about fashion and manicures and stuff while the names were being called." The squirrel disappeared into a gathering of green leaves. The water stilled. "But he had been talking just as much as them."
"What was he talking about? Pedicures?"
"Politics," said Mary. "He was always talking about politics – you remember…" Ellie nodded. "It was awful. He wouldn't stop. Even when Jamie walked away."
"She was nice – Jamie."
"Yeah."
Mary got up, went down the hill, and got her high-heeled shoe.
"Want to go back inside?" she said. "I just made myself want ice cream."
Ellie looked again at the pond, at the fading yellow of the sky and water, the deep stillness that would fade off into dark.
"Okay. Let's go."
She stood up and dusted off her jeans. Mary carried her shoes, walking away; Ellie started to walk but let herself run, grass sweet against her bare feet, careening down toward the bottom of the hill.
"Yeah," said Mary as Ellie came closer, "I'm glad I didn't buy the shirt."
"Too conservative. Why don't you ever wear anything… you know…" Mary held up a sleeveless black V-neck and posed by way of explanation.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Um – no."
"Well, I like it," said Mary, retreating to the changing room with the black shirt. In a few minutes, she came back out, put the black shirt back on the rack – "Too big" – and picked up instead another T-shirt. She held it up and examined it – clever, she thought – printed across the chest was a sarcastic quip making fun of –
"Since when are you interested in making political statements?" said Ellie.
"I'm not," said Mary. "I just thought it was funny. I wouldn't wear it –" and she put it back onto the shelf, folded haphazardly, slogan hidden by the grey folds of fabric. "Anyway, I'm bored. You ready?"
Ellie nodded and put the long-sleeved shirt back where she had found it. Clutching her purse, she wove through the turning racks of clothes and stepped over discarded shirts in the aisles, feeling relieved when she arrived at the exit. She looked back and watched Mary stride forward, lithe in her tight clothing and tall in her heels, swaying her hips in the artful way invented by trendy clothes stores.
But Ellie smiled when Mary tripped over a sweater lying in the aisle.
-----
Sitting at a café after having shopped all morning, Ellie thought about buying shirts and buying identities, about Mary's four-inch heels and her own three-year-old black Mary Janes. It was fine, she thought, that Mary wore tight clothes, that she flaunted her thin figure – like it was fine that Ellie wore loose shirts and baggy pants and had not combed her hair that morning. What did it matter, anyway?
But she looked across the table at Mary drinking her coffee with non-fat milk and three packets of Sweet & Low, then down at her own cinnamon muffin and whole-milk hot chocolate – and thought about the little black top back in the edgy store – and the liberal T-shirt –
"I should've bought that shirt," said Mary, holding her coffee cup poised perfectly in one hand, the other hand fluttering about in the air. "It was funny."
"It was kind of dumb," said Ellie.
"But funny."
Ellie broke off a big piece of her muffin and ate it.
-----
Driving with Mary was always a little bit of an adventure. The sun glinted off of the other cars whirring by, and beat down through the windshield. Ellie put the visor down and sat back in her seat as Mary sped around a corner and turned up the music.
"I really should've bought that shirt!" said Mary, drumming the steering wheel with her fingers.
"Go back and get it tomorrow."
"Maybe."
Ellie turned her head and looked out the window, at the houses zooming by, colors, white and green and yellow, stretching, zipping past, the wind accelerating, turbulent against the glass.
"You always do that, you know," Ellie said.
"What?"
"Almost buy something, then regret not buying it. Every single time we go out."
"I know. I can never decide if I want something or not."
"But you always decide later that you really did want it."
"Sometimes."
The song on the radio ended.
"Maybe I didn't want the shirt. It was too political."
"I should've gotten that other shirt – the long-sleeved one," said Ellie after a little while.
"It looked kind of nice."
"You said it was too conservative."
"Oh, El – you can't trust what I say, you know."
-----
The sun was setting all in yellow. Ellie and Mary sat together on the cliff overlooking the pond, sharing a lemonade, feeling peaceful as the last light filled the water and flooded up the hill.
"Today was fun," said Mary.
Ellie nodded.
They were silent, sipping lemonade and warm sunlight. Ellie sat with her thoughts, calm, glad, really, to be with a friend. She thought about Mary's high heels, which she had taken off at the foot of the hill – she turned around and looked at them, lonely and dark in the shadows back there.
"I'm glad I didn't buy the shirt," said Mary.
Ellie only smiled.
She sat with a handful of memories – things, times, last year. Pretty soon they would be able to say things like, You remember when we were in high school, and this happened? Kind of strange. Ellie smirked; kind of cliché. But fun anyway.
"Hey. You remember those auction-things they used to do at school?" said Ellie eventually. Mary nodded. "Shopping reminds me of them. People grabbing for clothes and things. Trying to out-buy each other."
"I went to one once. The auctions. It was boring. I left early."
"Well, I never went. But I always imagined them a certain way. People holding up those plaque-things and bidding…"
"They had a big bucket of names and picked a random one."
"Weird… If there had been those white paddles I might've gone. And worn a skirt, you know, and white blouse – and lifted up my paddle –"
Mary laughed. "The students didn't, though – they couldn't bid. Only parents."
"Oh."
"It was boring," said Mary. "You would've hated it."
"Maybe…" Ellie pulled up a piece of grass and fiddled with it in her hands. "I always thought it was kind of weird, those auctions. All snobby with big-nosed ladies sticking up their paddles." Like bristling porcupines. "I thought everyone would secretly hate each other and outbid each other for spite."
Ellie glanced over at Mary – they were both smiling.
"That would've been kind of funny," said Mary.
"Hm."
"But really it was boring. They all wore nice pants, no skirts, no dresses – and sat chatting at picnic tables while somebody pulled the names out."
"I would've liked that, maybe. Picnic tables."
Mary watched a squirrel scuttling up a tree-branch, watched the pond-water ripple as something, a rock?, fell in.
"There was good ice cream once."
"Really?" said Ellie.
"But once, I remember, Jamie's dad went, and he got all mad, at everybody chatting about fashion and manicures and stuff while the names were being called." The squirrel disappeared into a gathering of green leaves. The water stilled. "But he had been talking just as much as them."
"What was he talking about? Pedicures?"
"Politics," said Mary. "He was always talking about politics – you remember…" Ellie nodded. "It was awful. He wouldn't stop. Even when Jamie walked away."
"She was nice – Jamie."
"Yeah."
Mary got up, went down the hill, and got her high-heeled shoe.
"Want to go back inside?" she said. "I just made myself want ice cream."
Ellie looked again at the pond, at the fading yellow of the sky and water, the deep stillness that would fade off into dark.
"Okay. Let's go."
She stood up and dusted off her jeans. Mary carried her shoes, walking away; Ellie started to walk but let herself run, grass sweet against her bare feet, careening down toward the bottom of the hill.
"Yeah," said Mary as Ellie came closer, "I'm glad I didn't buy the shirt."
posted by Laura at 7:15 PM
2 Comments:
THis was awesome! I am certainly buying L.T's masterpiece at Waldenbooks someday ^^!
Did you previously write this or did you write it the day you posted it? It was very good either way!!! I actually got engrossed in it... I haven't had that with a piece of writting in a while (Mostly because what I've been reading is Hamlet).
Kyle - Thanks to you ^_^ I wrote it yesterday. Wow engrossed!
Mogg - THANK YOU <3
actually that wasn't what I was trying for at all!! ^^:;;; But it does make sense now that you said it... There was a little bit of that, but I meant for the two to be more equal in that they are both a bit judgemental.
I was actually trying to make fun of everybody making political statements, buying identities, to kind of do a little satirical bit about how people sometimes buy a t-shirt with a cleverpoliticalstatement and think that it buys them a set of beliefs. Basically Ellie and Mary are BOTH not mature.
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