Part IV: Spin – The Mermaid Dress: #7 (Chapter 68)

I had to do something about my clothes. Something drastic.

I tiptoed into the hallway and stood in front of Mother’s closet; the door was ajar.

You stay away from my closet.

Be careful, Princess.

I won’t get caught.

I peeked through the crack, but I couldn’t see a thing. I looked all around to make sure Daddy hadn’t come home yet.

All quiet.

I nudged the door open a crack with my foot. Now I saw the hazy outline of Mother’s red velvet dress.

Somehow – I don’t remember how – the closet door flew open.

Stay out!

Now you’ve upset your mother.

I swear, the wind did it.

A faint perfumy, flowery odor drifted out. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath; other smells came through: tobacco, beer, and something like chlorine.

Mama!

I opened my eyes. I’d seen the inside of Mother’s closet before, but never while I was alone and never for long. Mother was always there, opening and closing the door quickly after pulling something from a hanger.

Now I gaped at the evening gowns on plump satin hangers: red, blue, green, white, yellow satins, velvets, silks, crinolines, laces, sheers. Also on hangers: lacy slips, frilly nightgowns, sweeping pastel robes trimmed with bows and fluff, just like in the movies. And shoes of every color! Stiletto heels, delicate slippers, sandals, pumps: leathers, patent leathers, suedes, lamés – some of them strapless and open-toed, all of them narrow and sleek.

I’d just stumbled upon the grandest, the best Christmas present ever, and I couldn’t figure out where to start first.

Get out!

Princess...

I’ll be good.

I slipped into the closet and crawled behind the hangers. Warm inside the closet, the air floral and heavy, Mother’s odor wrapped around me as I buried my face into each garment, rubbing the fabrics across my cheeks.

How Daddy Platts must feel when he breathes in Mother’s smell!

Does he feel the same love and dizziness?

Now the real mother was here, the sweet mother who allowed me to brush her ponytail, the mother who allowed me to sit with her at the vanity, a mother who never asked me to fetch a beer, a mother who played with Ruby and me and fed us hot tomato soup, a mother who never yelled at me just because I went to Mormon Bible School for warm chocolate chip cookies, a mother who loved Daddy Platts as I loved him and would never yell and swear at him.

A mother who would have been awake and afraid the day Ruby and I had been run over by the truck.

I wanted this mother to become a star and take care of us forever, just like Mommy Anderson.

I stripped down to my underpants and avoided my reflection in the mirror.

A boy at school called me a fireplug.

He was right.

I pulled every garment off its hanger and every shoe out of its holder and laid each piece on a pile in the hallway. I tried on every gown, robe, slip, nightgown, and pair of shoes, parading before the mirror as the garments drooped off my shoulders and the hems bunched to the floor.

I settled on a sleeveless black velvet cocktail dress with spaghetti straps and silver lamé high heels.

I hiked up the bodice and pinned together the material. Even so, the waist fell past my hips, and the hem fell to the floor. Even after I slipped into the heels, the hem still touched the floor, and I could not see my feet.

I looked like someone whose legs had been chopped off at the knees. As I walked, the heels clonked-clonked on the hardwood floor, barely keeping my balance.

I stepped out of the shoes and, like Mother, pirouetted in front of the mirror.

It was no good. I could never be like Mother, I’d never wear beautiful evening gowns and sexy heels.

I’d never be a singing star.

Doomed to be always fat and not very smart, either.

Didn’t my teacher last year tell Mother I was retarded?

What was left for me?

I took the dress off and threw it onto the pile with the other discarded gowns.

I could never fix this mess, so why bother trying?

You little bitch!

You should’ve listened.

I didn’t want to.

My eyes grew heavy, sleepy now. My stomach rumbled. Queasy, I crawled onto the pile of clothes and stuck my thumb in my mouth.

Then I saw a big cardboard box at the back of the closet.