Ramifications: Part 2

1935

"Ouch!" She pulls away from her mother's reach.

"Put your head down Beatrix." Her mother mumbles through a cigarette dangling from her mouth. "Beauty is pain." She firmly holds the head in place, as she tugs and twists the rags tightly around sections of hair, knotting it into place. "Stop squirming, it will just prolong your time 'ere, and I don't want this as much as you do."

She wasn't moving much, but each time her mother pulls on each section of hair her head jerks back up. "Why can't we just have pins like the other girls use in school?" she said quietly, now regretting the question asked.

The room she was in is small, and full of clutter, in the centre of the room was a single bed, simply decorated with little figurines and dolls from past presents. The curtains were drawn closed so no one could see in, as it was nearly bed time. Her mother sat on the edge of her bed as Trixie sat on a stool, high enough to see herself in the vanity, but with the angle of her head, she couldn't see much at all but the swirling grey smoke whisking past her mom's face. The small blonde held back her tears as well knowing that it would just prolong her agony and her mother seemed to enjoy the act.

"Vey cost money, which we don't 'ave." With a flick of her fingers she sends ashes into the ashtray blowing out a puff of grey smoke as she spoke, creating tiny little rings, and in that matter of fact tone she adds, "Do you think money grows on trees?"

"But it makes my head sore, and ache after a while." She whines.

Again her head flicks up as her mother pulls tighter to the final section of hair, this time their eyes connect and Trixie wishes to blink but refrains from doing it. "You get your handwriting and arithmetic done, and don't let me see you using your left hand, or the ruler will happen. Just because your father's away, doesn't mean he wouldn't know."

This time it wasn't the light tap, tap, tap of the water dripping outside her window, but the nuns' eerie voices singing in early Morning Prayer that pulls her out of her dream. They echo through the walls and air ducts and up to her room as she was above the chapel. She woke with her heart thumping in her ears as her dream fades quickly from a bad memory into thin air. It still happens from time to time, having vivid dreams of her past which leaves her in such a state of mind. How her knuckles ached as she flexes her fingers out of protest with remembering her handwriting lessons.

From the look of things, the electricity was still out as she tries to turn the bedside lamp on. So, she found her matches and lights the candle next to the lamp, this casts a warm glow over her face as she reaches for her cast iron cigarette case, may as well have a smoke she thought.

It took her a while after her arrival to get accustomed to their schedule and their prayers, as the months grew on she learned to enjoy the sound as sometimes she would be caught sitting just outside the chapel doors listening to them sing. Like others before her, all were welcome to join them in prayer. She often didn't bother but she would see the other nurses. That's when she met Ramona, a skinny short nurse that wore her jet black hair tucked in a French roll or twist to keep it up off her face.

They found out that they had a lot in common from jazz to smoking. Both girls would be found going to the dances together hoping to meet men that enjoyed the same things as they did. But often or not, they would end up back at the convent alone and full of liquor. They would normally saunter back arm in arm singing their favourite songs waking the staff in the dead of night.

She found her stash of hidden gin tucked in the corner of her stockings drawer, uncaps the bottle and pours enough to sip on. Since she couldn't sleep she may as well enjoy a tipple of her favorite drink. Before she pours her first drink she heard a light rap at the door, "Enter!" she calls, knowing who it was outside her door.

It was like Ramona floats inside her feet were covered by the hem of her light blue dressing gown and sits at the edge of Trixie's bed. She slides her candle next to Trixie's on the table. Trixie offers her friend a cigarette and she takes it, and lighting it, savouring the very first puff by exhaling it enjoying the way it leaves her mouth. Ramona takes a sip of the drink, sharing wasn't a big deal with these two, as she took a rather large swig of the gin, allowing it to burn the back of her throat as it slides down. She then hands it back to Trixie, who fills the tooth mug up again before she takes another swig herself. Both women did this a few times more before they had enough to take the edge of their sleepless night.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" she asks not really needing an answer.

Trixie just shrugs, but eyes her friend. "I had another one of my dreams." The smoke freely exits her mouth as she spoke.

"The hair in rags or your handwriting lessons one?"

"It starts with the hair in rags then ends with handwriting lessons."

"Tut, tut."

She heard her friend say.

"I know I should just let my past go, not easy for some." She said as she stomps her cigarette out in the ashtray.

'Trixie," she drawls as she lets out a long puff of grey smoke before she continues. "You're here now, do stay in the present."

"I do try." She comments quietly.

Ramona stood, ending the discussion but before she turns to go, she leans against the door frame, "Thanks for the tipple." She said exiting the room.

Trixie caps the bottle and replaces back in its hiding spot. She removes the covers from her bed, and slips her feet into some warm crocheted slippers made by Sister Monica Joan. Time to get a move on and start her day!