by Paula Hayes
Unstuck 1926
Agnes touches the nape of her exposed neck and looks into the mirror. Behind her stands sister Veronica, smiling with satisfaction as she holds up Agnes’ long plait in one hand, sicissors in the other.
“Bobs are so easy to look after and they keep you cool. It must be over 100 degrees in the shade already and it's only 10 o’ clock.” She dabs a hanky around her neck. “I don’t have time for all that swirling, curling and pinning you go on with. Besides, it really suits you!”
Agnes peers at her reflection, not convinced. She doesn’t see the beautiful woman before her. ‘Last haircut ever …’ she thinks, while smiling graciously at her sister. She looks back down at the letter she has been reading and continues to read aloud. It is from Daisy.
“Little Rexie has broken his arm, fell out of the front tree … his miserable summer is mitigated by the arrival of the new Timm’s adventure book at the library.”
Veronica sniffs the air and ponders, “My cake can’t be ready … but I can smell the most delicious aroma … think it must be you Ag … I often smell it around you!”
“Ma!” A little boy’s voice rises up from under the window.
“Coming!” shouts back Veronica.
“Ma-aa-aaa…” the voice wails loudly.
“Give me a minute child!” she snaps as she attempts to straighten up the back of Agnes’ hair.
Gladys sits on the dressing table, her hair is still long and her face is that of a pale six year old. She pokes at Agnes’ long detached locks. Veronica doesn’t notice the jiggling hair.
The child screams. Veronica drops the scissors and runs out the door. “That boy will be the death of me,” she shouts. Agnes jumps up in alarm and looks out the window.
Gladys sighs, “It’s a wonder that kid has any skin left on his knees … He is so lucky he can play outside … You’re always so busy these days and … I’m still here.”
Large misty tears well up in her tiny pallid face.
“I’m going to miss you,” smiles Agnes into the mirror.
“Is it my turn at last? How do you know?” cries Gladys euphorically jumping off the dresser and twirling around the room.
“I just know,” whispers Agnes. I have to let you go, she thinks.
“I feel peculiar,” says Gladys, eyes widening.
“What kind of peculiar?”
“Peculiar good … I feel warm … Oh and I can see Ma—she is holding out her hand. It’s Ma. It's really Ma…”
“And I suppose you can you hear the lark?” Agnes gently teases, “Then go to her, you don’t want to keep Ma waiting … Tootle loo my darlin.”
“Will you be all right?” asks Gladys.
“‘Course!” bristles Agnes.
Veronica bursts through the door carrying a hysterical little boy. “He only wants you Ag!” she says as she dumps the child into Agnes’ arms. “Gotta go, there’s another one wounded outside! What would I do without you Ag?”
“Aunty Aggie,” the boy sobs pitifully, “I done a booboo. Ouchy a lot!”
Agnes pulls him close and kisses his forehead. She turns to smile at Gladys as she disappears into joyous twinkling swirls.
Acknowledgements
