Greetings!
This month’s blog picks up where we left off in the last post, when I introduced my mannequin, Ruby. Today, I’m excited to share the story of how I came to acquire this very special figure.
As some of you know, I was working on the first edition of The Fish Dress when a series of brain bleeds unexpectedly brought my literary pursuits to a halt, leaving me unable to continue writing, publishing, or promoting my work for nearly three years.
Now, I’m thrilled to be back at my desk, working on The Fish Dress, 2nd edition — an expanded and enriched version of the original.
While my vision has been significantly impaired, making it difficult for me to see well enough to read, I remain determined to end this creative hiatus and bring forth a deeper, more meaningful edition of The Fish Dress.
I invite you to read the excerpt below, told from the perspective of a character named Nora. Here’s a bit of background to set the scene:
Setting: (Contemporary – coastal town) Rocky Harbor, Maine
Main Characters:
• Nora Jenkins (divorced, with one daughter)
• Angelica (daughter of Nora, 11 years old)
• Grace (sister of Nora)
• Eve (daughter of Grace)
• Katrina (friend of Nora and Grace)
Excerpt from The Fish Dress
Spring burst forth with yard sales along twisting winding roads, cars followed one another like train cars racing to the station.
The girls came upon a rambling weather-beaten farmhouse. They hopped out of the Hornet and scattered as if they were entering their own little worlds of clutter.
Katrina grabbed a black rotary phone from a cluster of tangled cords laying in the grass. “Must be from the fifties,” she said, chuckling to herself.
Grace stocked up on plaid flannel shirts for winter. She also bought a wind chime made from hammered pewter forks. Nora found nothing — that is, until she spotted something that caught her eye.
As Nora moved cautiously toward the strange sight, she discovered that she was face-to-face with a bald-headed mannequin, with no arms, leaning against the barn.
Only then did her heart stop pounding. The lady was naked, and Nora could see how the mannequin’s upper and lower halves twisted together at the waist to form a whole body. Nora couldn’t help but notice the way the mannequin’s breasts curved perfectly. In that instant, memories of her own battle with breast cancer flooded her mind. She tried, in vain, to refocus on the figure in front of her; however, she could not get past a kindred feeling of grief and loss.
Nora moved closer, brushing away the cobwebs from the figure and touching the tiny cracks of plaster that looked like wrinkles on the skin. Then Nora scanned the mannequin’s face. How beautiful she looked, despite her imperfections! Mysteriously provocative, a stunning face, with a spattering of sea-green eye shadow and liner around olive eyes, perfectly peaked brows, and burnt orange lips showing a hint of a smile. The mannequin resonated with Nora, and she called out to Grace, “Can we fit her in the car?”
“We can try,” her sister answered, waving her over.
Several minutes later, the Green Hornet squeaked like rusty bedsprings as it drove off, loaded to the hilt with a trunk full of hand-me-downs and a naked statue twined to the roof. They dropped off Katrina and went to Nora’s house. Together the sisters lugged the mannequin onto the front porch.
“Where do you want her?” Grace asked.
“Let’s prop her in the hallway for now. She needs clothes.”
Nora knew exactly how she would dress her: a vintage white muslin dress with pink baby roses; one she’d acquired years earlier from a Nova Scotia B&B that had an underground thrift shop. Nora loved the dress, but it was too small for her body. It would be perfect for the mannequin. And Nora would drape a silk scarf of lavender daisies over the woman’s bald head and cascade it down her shoulders to fill the space where her arms should be.
“Why did you get her?” Grace asked.
Nora grinned. “She reminds me of me — after cancer.”
Grace’s nose scrunched up. “Bald, and no arms?”
“Yes, battered but a survivor. She’s my victory shrine.”
Again, thoughts of her experience with breast cancer came to Nora’s mind. She had been careful to hide her illness from Angelica, who had been just four years old at the time. It wasn’t until recently, now that Angelica was almost twelve, that she found out.
“I can’t believe it’s been seven years,” Nora said.
Grace nodded, flopping on the couch. “I’d say you beat it.”
“You mean we beat it,” added Nora, standing by the mannequin. “Remember all those weeks you drove me a hundred miles a day for radiation? And Eve watched Angelica through the whole ordeal? Couldn’t have done it without the two of you.”
More to come in future blogs!