Twelve Wives
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
The lightening had flashed magnificently the previous night, causing the electricity at the apartment to flash out three times before the storm subsided. And on the present Tuesday, it was Flag Day, approaching the first quarter. Great puffy whites filled the upper deep and Collette wondered if the next set of storms might hold out until after the hot dog roast that night. And yet there was an unearthly gray in the sky and a wind that swept through the bean pod tree as Collette added pages to her new book.
Carrie picked up Collette later that morning to shop for gifts. There was a batch of fig butter for Grandma, several good brightly colored shirts for OLeif (one of which said “Italia” across the front, with an Italian flag, Collette’s personal favorite). There was also a set of green and blue striped pajama pants for Rose and a green tank top, with a silver ring and sparkling earrings (shaped like dog tags), plus a shimmering blue beaded bracelet with capiz shell-like pendants for Summer, and a set of three lovely pairs of cubic zirconia earrings for Annamaria in pure crystal and sapphire blue. Carrie chose these to send as gifts during their first week in Kansas City. Collette also picked up a bag of Reeses peanut butter cups and Carrie – a pair of Kelly green flip-flops. Throughout the entirety of the shopping trip, Carrie pulled down her spy shades over her eyes and complained, embarrassedly:
“I’m so pale! It’s so embarrassing.”
Her tan had left since Saturday, and even the freckles on her nose seemed to have vanished. But there were always worse things to deal with. And at the house, she pasted her history flash cards for another exam and Collette deviled the eggs. Carrie sliced lemons and strawberries into the punch, and Francis and Linnea scurried about outside, collecting all the fallen branches from the yard before Joe mowed over them.
Meanwhile, Dad talked about electro-magnetic pulses with Carrie, as a new article was posted in his monthly Imprimis.
And Joe told them about the fabulous mushroom cave they had camped in with the Hobcoggins that Sunday, which was used in the 1900’s. Wheel ruts of the cars which entered the cave were still scratched into the rock floor and the names of the long-deceased mushroom-gatherers were scratched on the ceiling above from those many years ago.
Also, Carrie ran across a new article concerning the young king of Swaziland who had just married his twelfth wife, who was only eighteen, two weeks after marrying his eleventh, when he was all of twenty years old.