Mother Knows Best

by Iris Casanova

It was little Susie’s first beauty pageant. Of course, I was overly excited for her. I had been counting down the days since the time she turned three for her to be able to compete. Now that she was finally five years old she was eligible to join in on the competition. This had been my dream; I mean her dream, for the longest.

We went to the “Little Ladies Boutique” in search for the perfect outfits to wear on stage. I had to admit she looked homely without the make up and sequins enveloping her tiny frame. I helped my daughter the best I could. It took us hours to find the perfect dress, but it would be worth the time and money afterward; to see that smile on her face. On that thought, I was reminded that she would need new “flippers” since she had a few teeth fall out last week.

When the day of the pageant finally came, we drove off toward the city in the early morning silence. We arrived shortly later. It was time for her to get on stage. The room went silent and a myriad of lights followed. I gave her a tiny shove on stage.

Watching her go out there with such confidence made her image of being a little beauty even more real. I felt a tear go come down my cheeks as I stood back stage behind the curtain. “That should be me”, was all that came out of my mouth in a muffled whisper. The judges seemed to like her. The feeling that overcame me was bitter sweet.

The first round was over and Susie came running back toward me practically yelling saying: “Mommy! I made it to the next round. Aren’t you proud?” I gave her a smile the best I could and as I held her in my arms I told her I was very proud of her. A part of me felt like I was lying. I helped her get ready for round two which was the swim suit part of the competition. I handed her the pink ruffled bathing suit and sent her to hair and makeup.

Round two started the same as the first with a short light show and hundreds of people clapping for some little girl on stage. I was fingering Susie’s curly locks when her name was called for her to come up on stage. Hesitantly, I let her go. “Make mommy proud…” was all that escaped my lips. She skipped toward the stage, and soon enough round two was over. It came as no surprise to me that she would move on to the next round. Things in life seemed to come to her so easily.

Backstage I helped her prepare for the third round where each contestant had to read a prepared speech. Since they were only in the five year olds division, they were allowed to use flash cards in case they were to forget part of it. I was fixing Susie’s curls when she brought out her flashcards. “Mommy, I wrote about you. I said I want to be just like you when I grow up. You’re the best”. I looked at her in amazement; her innocent face looking up at me. There was so much she didn’t understand. I wanted to be like her. That much she knew. We both knew this yet neither of us ever spoke of it.

Round three began. This was the last round. It was between her and two other little girls for the title of Little Miss Arkansas. I loved my daughter and yet there was a part of me couldn’t stand the thought of her winning. As she walked onto the stage when her turn began, I quickly snatched her speech from her dress pocket. So she wouldn’t notice it was gone, I replaced it with the wrapper of the Snickers bar I was eating. The chocolate stains on her dress reminded me of the monster I was.

The judges asked her kindly to read what she had wrote. I watched her reach into her pocket, and a smile went across my face. She trembled a bit when she saw the candy wrapper in her hands instead of the speech she spent weeks on. “Sweetie, your speech please”, said one of the judges. She started to cry. “I don’t know where it is. This wrapper isn’t even mine. I don’t eat Snickers but …mommy does”. Backstage all eyes were on me; finally.

A Daughter’s Loss

I was so close to winning that trophy. I couldn't believe it was so within reach, and

I let it slip away so easily. I had remembered most of the speech, but I froze up when I

couldn't find my flash cards.

On the drive back home, I sat in the back seat. I didn't want to sit in the front with my mommy. After the whole pageant episode, I had gone back stage and asked her how the candy wrapper had gotten in my dress pocket. She looked at me like I was empty space; a dead look in her eyes. I walked away. I didn't want to believe she could hurt me so. When we got home, the situation didn't get any better. The silence left no mercy.

A decade has gone by and things between us never got any better. I hated her for hating me though she would never directly admit it. Just last week when she was giving me a ride to school we got into an argument. We're always fighting over something no matter how insignificant it may be.

This time it started with me asking her to please not be mad at me for having skipped class so many times in the past month. The truth is I had straight A's, but I ditched class a lot of the time because I had been feeling depressed recently. I had been feeling this way for a while now, but I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want her to worry or overreact and send me off to the psychiatric ward of the hospital like she had before. She was dealing with her pregnancy and recently diagnosed diabetes as it was.

She kept yelling at me; I yelled back. I told her I knew she hated me. The silence between us was deadly. I felt my heart pounding in fury. I felt a sudden tear come down alongside my cheek. In the background, the radio was playing "Amor Eterno". She didn't even bother looking at me. Her hands were firmly grappling the steering wheel. She didn't even deny it. That's what hurt the most. I got out the car and started my day at school.

Everyday was a repeat of the last. I no longer cared about pageants; I stopped caring about many things a long time ago. I walked down the halls and saw a familiar face. I walked up to him and fell into his arms almost immediately. I didn't have to tell him what was wrong because he already knew. He held my hand as we walked off campus.

As I looked back, the school seemed smaller and smaller until it was so insignificantly small that I couldn't help but laugh. We walked toward downtown to the nearest bus stop. I sat on his lap while we tried counting how many rain drops fell on our hands. It was sprinkling out. Something about this weather calmed me. The bus came and we rode it back to city we lived in. Neither of us lived in the same city the school was in so it took us a while to get back to the place we called home.

This was my escape. We sat in the back of the bus though nobody else was on. I sat with my back toward him leaning on him. He rolled a few blunts as I rambled on about the random things that popped into my mind. My thoughts no longer seemed coherent; they hadn't been for a while. When I noticed he wasn't saying anything, I turned around and gently grabbed his chin. I looked into his eyes and we shared a kiss just as the bus hit a speed bump.

We finally made it back to our town. The familiar smells and sights were welcoming. We lit one of the blunts as we walked around the park that was near my house. We sat on a bench and "people watched". This was one of our most enjoyed activities. I laid back on the bench as he played with the curls in my hair. The circles of smoke enveloped us. This was my reality. The world around us seemed irrelevant.