Thursday, March 29, 2007
New Beginning 249
As far as Maevis Daily was concerned, the Crash certainly did cause the Depression. Whenever she heard the phrase "the Crash" and thought back to that sunny, Saturday afternoon, she flipped through the mental images of falling bodies, flying $20 bills landing on the dusty road and the echos of drunken giggles floating out of the cool dimness of a huge Cadillac, she knew most people were referring to a different event, something that happened in New York City. But Maevis thought her Crash had affected her life more than the other one and substituting "Bailey Market Crash" for "Stock Market Crash" had only led to minimal confusion throughout her life. And as for the Depression, Maevis would be first to say that she struggled with it long after the 1930s. In fact, significant episodes of depression and mania pestered her life long.
Her hands were mottled with liver spots. Her hair was completely white now, not the stunning auburn that had had all the sons of farmers panting on dance night. She shed a tear for those forgotten foxtrots. Outside the window, the modern world went by: children playing on the sidewalk, young lovers arm in arm, the latest fashions in the shop window across the road. Not that she could see so clearly any more; her eyes were so sensitive to the light.
“The light, Mrs. Daily. It's green.”
A car horn tooted and she glanced behind. Bastard. She threw the Caddy into reverse and slammed into the little Chevrolet, showering the sidewalk with glass.
She started to giggle as she pulled her hip flask out of her purse. It was almost as exhilarating as ramming the Bailey Market in ’29, or that Mercury in ’42, or that fruit stand in ’54 . . . Hell, what else was a driving license good for at her age?
Opening: ME.....Continuation: ril