Deep Shade

DEEP SHADE

Deep shade of the Oleander shrub creates the illusion of coolness, but heavy waves of heat from Arizona’s blazing midday sun blasts away that illusion.

A wide-brimmed, pearly white bonnet perches atop my curly brown hair and protects me from the sun. As I’m appreciating the speckled shade of the new bonnet, a question pops into my young mind from nowhere. “Why am I not protected in other ways?” Thick sweet fragrance from the oleander’s candy pink flowers envelope the question as it floats around in my mind and gets no response.

Tod, my Mother’s new husband, has adopted us. My younger sister, brother and I are to now call him, “Daddy.” Will we grow to love him as we have the wild and dangerous creatures living here?

Tod enjoys taking photos and is taking advantage of our Easter day dress-up. He snaps one photo after another as he directs us to pose this way and that way.

Tod is a quiet man and seems shy. He is a classic handsome man with well styled dark wavy hair, a square tanned face and crisp clothing which encompasses a medium-height, fit body. Tod is always so clean--on the outside. There is a small scar above his upper lip. Not very noticeable but even I, a child, am aware that he is self-conscious of it. There are also scars deep within him that are not visible. I have already found some results of the inner scars. No longer do I enjoy the cool, soothing black silk of the Arizona nights, they are no protection.

Here, in the cheerful bright red dress and the plain-but-perfect bonnet, I sit quietly composed and perfectly still. I am very good at sitting still as dreams within make my enormous green eyes and high-cheek-boned face appear peaceful.. Anyone looking would think, “There is a beautiful little girl, dressed so finely, she must come from a wonderful family—lucky child!” Another illusion, just like the Oleanders deep shade. I smile on demand, feeding the illusion.

A 10 year old child should not have such thoughts. That is not normal, but yet—is there a, “normal?” Maybe. But a young child would not know—I do not know.

All I know is that the sun’s penetrating heat brings warmth to my heart just as it does my small body. I welcome the waves of intense heat. They are a reminder of the days when my sister, brother and I romp in the sandy soil of the dessert alongside the strong self-preserving cactus, the curled-tailed scorpion, and our favorite friends, the spiky horny toads. All of us are surviving in the, “normal,” atmosphere of the desert.