* * *
After a photo op and celebrations, they went across the hall to the banquet room. As she walked to the room, Brittany thought about everything she experienced. Life was a whirlwind. The many congratulations, hugs, and good wishes she received thrilled her. Her nightly fantasies paled compared with reality. She had no idea the winners felt this way. The overpowering joy she felt excited her. She knew little about life, but if this feeling was what grownups felt, she couldn’t wait to grow up. She didn’t want the feeling to ever leave her.
Dozens of cloth covered tables filled the banquet room. Red chairs fit for queens and kings stood around each white table with gold trim. Brittany panted. Never before had she seen such a room. Five is not old, but with all her TV watching, she felt like she was a knowledgeable fifteen-year-old adult.
The decorated ballrooms from her wedding shows and sweet sixteen shows were no match for this room. Brittany gawked at the golden chandeliers and knew it to be true. Her mind stored away snapshots that she would be sure to revisit.
“My, my, my, don’t we look the princess,” said a man she didn’t know.
“An enchanted angel if ever I saw one,” said another.
“Stop fawning over her boys, she’s spoken for,” said Mildred.
While the little girl pondered the meaning of those words, she listened as Mildred chuckled with the men and ushered her and her mother forward. With every step Brittany took, her sash moved, announcing her presence. She loved it. The sound her sash made and the crown on her head erased years of isolation and depression. It was much better to be the center of attention than the lonely girl whose mother worked and left her with a television for a baby-sitter. Life was good.
Brittany eyed their table. It was the most magnificent table she had ever seen, enshrining her fantasy desserts. She stared at the plate of dark and white chocolate dipped strawberries. Next to it stood a milk chocolate fountain with a silver oval tray containing strawberries, banana halves, and long toothpicks. Oh, the joy of dipping a strawberry in that fountain of chocolate, it made her gush. Brittany could hardly wait for the opportunity.
“This is your table,” said Mildred. “Only the princess gets her own fountain.”
“You hear that, baby?” asked April.
“Yes, momma.”
Brittany’s eyes never left the fountain. Her head filled with dreams of plunging into the fountain. Perhaps she could coat her tiara with a layer of the sweet mixture. How great it would be to wear such a crown.
“Sit down, baby.”
They all sat. Brittany paid no attention to her neatly wrapped silverware or the plate set before her. The chocolate fountain stole her heart and would not give it back.
Champagne poured, dinner was served, and toasts made. April’s heaven overwhelmed her and captured her heart just as Brittany’s heaven had. Each remained in their separate world and relished every second.
At the end of the night, they entered a new room, a dance hall. Brittany watched as adults danced. She didn’t know how and with the absence of boys her age, had no wish to dance. She walked around watching. Contestants and their parents sat or danced. Brittany held her head higher so they could all envy her. She was the star, not them.
April danced with several men. Between dances, she chugged a golden soda from a tall thin glass. Brittany found the shape of the glass interesting. Every time the scantily clad servers passed, she reached her hand out for a glass. The servers gave her a compassionate look but never gave her a glass. She harbored a deep resentment toward them.
As Brittany waited for her mother to finish another dance, fright came over her. She saw her fantasy life transform into a nightmare. A man in a dark suit sat, staring at her. The way he stared gave her no joy. It was a new feeling, well, not quite so new. An old teacher of hers gave her a similar look. The other teachers say that he is in the pokey for being a bad man. The only other thing she knows is the girl who complained about him staring at her is no longer at the school. Her mother came to school one day and after yelling at everyone, left with her daughter and said she would slue them all.
That eerie feeling was back.
Brittany searched for her mother. In her exchange with the man, she lost track of April. Terror struck. The emotion was alarming. Going out under the bright lights of the stage was easy compared to this. She searched with passion but found her mother nowhere. Afraid to give up, she began anew and this time found success.
April sat on a couch across from the man she didn’t like. Brittany went to her. Long gone was the thrill of her sash and tiara. Mother would help her, she knew it. April took a long drink from the towering glass she held. Brittany walked up.
“Momma, that man keeps staring at me.” The little girl brazenly pointed at the old man across from them.
“No, he’s not, baby.”
“Yes, he is momma. He is staring at me and smiling, momma.”
“Look at me, baby.”
“Okay.”
“Am I your momma?”
“Yes.”
“I love you?”
“Yes.”
“You love me?”
“Yes.”
“Does momma ever lie to you?”
“No.”
“Well then, you listen to momma when momma says that man and all the others are looking at you because you are pretty.”
“Okay.” Her response more mouse than lion.
“You do believe you are pretty don’t you?”
She searched her mother’s eyes for confirmation. Her mother’s pleading look told her to answer in the affirmative. “Yes, momma.”
“Good, baby. Now the nice man wants to take pictures of you in your tiara. He is going to recommend more pageants for you to compete in. You are going to win lots of pageants.”
The girl gave the man a second look. She didn’t like his smile. If it meant more contests, she could ignore him. Winning was fun.
“Okay, momma.”
“Fabulous!”
April rose with care and guided her daughter to a door next to the man. Brittany held her mother’s hand tightly as they passed. The door opened and they went inside. Moments later the man joined them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a camera.
“Let’s get started, Beautiful.”
April sat on a couch, leaving Brittany standing before the man. The man put the camera to his face and clicked the shutter button. Emotions flooded the little girl. Joy came from the pushing of the button and the flashing of the light. She felt like royalty. Fear came as she watched the man lick his lips and wink at her.
The pageant took place in an old school building. A janitor came in to clean. The man with the camera was furious and argued but the tall black man would not leave. He said he would not disturb them, but he had a job to do or he would get fired. The photographer relented and went back to taking pictures. Every so often he would attempt to touch Brittany to move her into a pose he wanted. The janitor would make a loud sound as if clearing his throat and the man would stop. He did more grunting than sweeping. Eventually, the man snapped his last photograph in frustration and left, muttering under his breath, threatening to have the janitor fired.
The old janitor took it all in and when the man left, he turned and winked at the little girl. She felt happy, wonderful. She waved at the man before her mother dragged her out. April mumbled something about privacy and manners that the little girl didn’t understand.
Chapter Three: Zora