Hanging Women
By Donna Spector
Alicia is in her mid-40s. Here, she tells her daughters, Celandine and Peony about the first time she met their father.
ALICIA:
You don't know what it was like to have an encounter with a god.
It was late summer, I was walking barefoot down the road, scuffing up the hot dust with my heels and feeling my heavy braid swing back and forth across my back.
I heard a roar behind me, like a thunderstorm. Your father swerved past me on his motorcycle and skidded to a stop just in front of me, blocking my way. I was terrified, but I looked up at him, all in black and gleaming in noonday sun, and my heart felt a shock.
"Don't be afraid," he said, as he climbed down, swept off his helmet and bowed. He straightened up, looked in my eyes and then he really saw me, the way no one else ever did or would. "You're too beautiful to exist," he said as he came closer and closer, the careful way someone would who was trying not to frighten a rabbit so he could catch it. "Don't move," he said, but I couldn't.
He touched me, his rough hands making my body flame. Then he reached into my sundress and lifted my breasts right out into the sun. He held them and kissed them, and I wasn't afraid anymore, I just... wanted him. "Turn around," he said. I did, and he unbraided my hair. Then he dropped to his knees, put his head under my skirt and I... knew ecstasy for the first time.
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