Earthly Possessions Read Online Free PDF

packed in her carriage and sent on home, never to be heard from again. Miss Clarion appeared on stage every night before the rodeo. But the Beautiful Child was not so lucky. I had to stay in the Farm Products Building. Every day from three to six (after-school hours) for a solid week I had to take my place on the splintery gold-painted chair in the center of the platform. I wore a paper crown and held a scepter, actually a hot-dog skewer covered with flaky glitter. I can see it all still; I remember everything. The pumpkins on the pumpkin table below me, each on its separate paper plate. The hatted, aproned farm wives casting sideways glances at the jams, where prizes had already been awarded. The children carrying balloons with “Hess Fine Fertilizer” swelling across them. And the dark-haired woman who stood in front of me hour after hour, day after day, staring up into my face without a hint of a smile.
    She was pretty in a stark, high-cheekboned way that wasn’t yet fashionable. Her coat was long and narrow, and Ihad never seen legs so slender. I liked her two feverish spots of rouge but I wasn’t so sure of her eyes, which had a sooty appearance. You couldn’t help wondering what had gone wrong, looking into eyes like that.
    People swirled past her like water around a rock. She ignored them. She stood with her hands jammed deep in her pockets and gazed only at me.
    Meanwhile, ladies came up to tell me how cute I was. Children made faces at me. Cousin Clarence (my only chaperone, now that the contest was over) washed in on a tide of old men from the nursing home and washed out again, splayfooted. The woman and I continued to stare at each other.
    On the afternoon of my last day at the fair, when it was almost time for my parents to arrive, the woman stepped forward and raised her arms. I rose and laid aside my scepter. I removed my crown and set it on the throne. Came down the stairs to meet her. She took my hand. We left by the end door.
    We cut across the midway, passing various booths where you could win a teddy bear by ringing bottles, piercing balloons, or throwing nickels into slippery china plates. So far I’d seen only the educational exhibits and I was hoping the woman would stop here, but she didn’t. Nor did she offer me a ride on the Ferris wheel. One glance at her face told me it was out of the question; she had something serious on her mind. She walked quickly, frowning a little. I took a tighter hold on her hand and scurried to keep pace.
    We went on to where the fields took over and a wind blew up to make me shiver in my short-sleeved dress. The sun had set by now. Against the flat gray sky I could make out a group of trailers. They must have been there all week; the ground around them was churned and hardened. Some flew strings of flapping shirts, some had motorcycles beside them, some were lit with soft yellow lights. The trailer the woman took me to was dark. It had no clotheslines or other appurtenances anchoringit down. The woman flung back the door and reached inside to switch on a lamp. I stood looking into what might have been a doctor’s waiting room—bare and neat, upholstered in shades of tan.
    “Go in, please,” the woman said.
    I stepped inside. The woman closed the door behind us and walked to the dark end of the trailer, still wearing her coat, briskly rubbing her fingers together. “It’s so cold!” she said. “I will make us some tea.” I could tell she had a foreign accent but I didn’t know what kind. We didn’t have any foreigners in Clarion. “Do you drink tea now?” she said.
    “No,” I said.
    Instead of offering anything else, she stopped rubbing her fingers and came back to the living room. She sank onto the edge of the daybed and I sat down beside her. She turned and searched my face. “Do you like it here?” she asked.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “It means nothing to me,” she said.
    I could see that it wouldn’t.
    “Anyway, everything is his. I require a