Neighbors, and: August Days

NEIGHBORS Mary Ann Larkin I have nothing to give Mrs. Danley. I have no babies she cannot carry, no plants she's too feeble to water, no food she can't eat. I have nothing Mrs. Danley needs. I cannot bring her the island she cruised to in pink chiffon, the gallant captain bent low over her hand, nor her father, struck crossing the road his first night up from Mississippi, nor Andre ofthe luminous eyes, gunned down in his prom tuxedo. Nor can I make the girl she once was, beautiful and beloved, walk out ofthe heart-shaped frame to take Mrs. Danley in strong arms and exclaim, "I never expected to see anything so beautiful today," which is how my neighbor, waiting in red velvet, greets me as I step empty-handed through her open door. [Meridians:feminism, race, transnationalism 2002, vol. 2, no. 2, p. 126)©2002 by Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved. 126 AUGUST DAYS Mary Ann Larkin Now come the August days. Mrs. Sizemore sits on her porch, cuts fruit for the children. The white enamel pan between her feet catches the peels and pits. Eat your peach, Joseph, she says, take your plum, Ebony. Around her the children fall like night flowers damp with dew. Juices slide unnoticed down their satin skins. Eat yourjruit, children, their mother tells them. Eat your fruit, India and Tiajuana: the silvery pear the golden peach the dusky plum. Take deep into your sleep-drenched bodies, Lynette and Orlando, the bright pulp your mother prepares against the soon-arriving dark. [Meridians:jeminism, race, transnationalism 2002, vol. 2, no. 2, p. 127]©2002 by Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved. 127 ...