An Ode To Georgia - Writers Forum

BevRaffaele · 06-08-2004, 07:38 AM

An Ode To Georgia

I saw her from my hotel room in New Orleans.
The day was hot and steamy with a swampy stench in the air.
She sat on a blanket across the street.
And then the play began.

I watched her sponge bathe from a faucet coming out of a short rock wall. Her black skin strategically covered leaving her modest still. Clean clothing was then placed over her soiled clothing. Then she pulled her dirty clothes out from under the clean while slipping her arms through the sleeves of her fresh blouse. She stood and pulled her old skirt from under the new. It was artful rendering me completely amazed. She washed her garments, wrung them out and then snapped them vigorously in the air. She laid them across the same rock wall to dry. Then she lathered and rinsed her hair and wrapped it in a rag turban. All of this with one bar of soap.

I marveled at this ballet, all done with perfect precision.
She lay down on the blanket to rest now.

Then a preacher came by and stopped. Both were animated for quite some time, she more than he. She was the winner as he gave up and moved on leaving her still mumbling and shaking her head.
Spell bound, I didn’t feel in the least voyeuristic.

I decided to take her some money and my "Readers Digests" when I spotted her searching in her bag. She had pulled out something to read. As I approached, I ask if I could join her on the blanket. She squinted up with yellowed eyes and dark chocolate brown centers and then surprised me with her gesture for me to sit. I handed her the money and the books. I was given her standard unemotional "God Bless you". Toothless. "Family?" I asked curiously and truly interested.
"I don't want to talk about family," she grumbled. "Name?" I asked. "Georgia," she said solemnly almost angrily.
"Enjoy your books,” I said as I began to rise, then I returned to my clandestine room.

I watched again as she stretched out to read. My smile turned to a frown when a policeman walked up to her. Hands on his hips, hovering. Georgia stood slowly, glaring. I watched as she folded her damp clothing and put them in her canvas knapsack with the rest of her world. She mosied away commenting over her shoulder. The policeman held his authoritative posture.

The play had ended abruptly, dangling with no closure! I sat on the edge of my bed angry and I found myself wiping a tear.
A short time later I went back to the window, the policeman was gone but there she was pulling out her damp clothes and spreading them back on the wall.

“She’s back!” I cried out loud, laughing with delight and admiring her grit.

What a lovely finale!