As we neared 7th and 21st street, I realized I hadn't seen Madame for a good stretch of time. I had known this woman since birth, and she had always taken care of me. She had taught me many things, and I respected her greatly for her accomplishments-living was among them. Her husband had left her here when she was about 53 years old, with no money, family, or shelter, just a small bag of her belongings, and a hope for survival. Jack walked up to the white house and knocked on the door. A surprised face answered the door. Placing her hands on her hips, Madame said,
"Jeanne, what have you gotten yourself into now?"
"Just a lil street fight-"
"Little?" Jack said, "she's hoit her ankle and some part a her stomach." Madame gave me a dirty look.
"So can yas fix me up?" I asked innocently.
"Come in Jeanne." She pushed the door open.
"Why is she calling you John?" Jack whispered to me.
"She's saying Joan, in French, it's just pronounced like John."
"But dats not yas name." Jack questioned.
"Yea Ise know, but she says I remind her a Joan of Arc, so dats what she calls me." Jack shrugged,
"Whateva youse say, John."
"Lay her here." Madame said indicating to a low lying couch.
Jack set me down and Madame dismissed him, saying her could come back later at around six. He kissed me goodbye and set off after whispering,
"Don't worry, wese gonna soak good Bounce." As he walked out the door, Madame eyed him closely.
"Who is he?"
"Jack Kelly, my-"I couldn't say it"-my friend."
"You like this one, no?" She said going through a glass cabinet holding many vases, stones, and wands, some of which were from France.
"Yea." I said, half of me very reluctant. Madame pulled out a jar of dried plants, and gave me some to eat.
"Where in your stomach chére?"
"Dere" I said lifting my shirt and pointing it out.
"Don't let this Jack get away from you."
"He calls me his goil Madame." She looked up from rubbing an oil and water substance on my stomach and raised an eyebrow.
I continued, "Whadda ya tink a him?"
"He is very special to you, and he seems to be a good man.
Does he respect you?"
"Yea, he knows I don't take orders, and so he normally don't give me any."
"Bon" she said nodding her head in approval.
"Sleep now, it will be easier for me to work on you." She said, carefully removing my shoe and wrapping a warm, moist towel around it.
"I will burn scents if it makes it easier for you?" she said coaxingly.
"Please?" I asked, not tired at all. She light a small fire and sprinkled it with some oils. She knelt by my side and began to work her magic. The scent of lavender and chamomile soon filled the air, and my now heavy eye lids closed
"Jeanne, what have you gotten yourself into now?"
"Just a lil street fight-"
"Little?" Jack said, "she's hoit her ankle and some part a her stomach." Madame gave me a dirty look.
"So can yas fix me up?" I asked innocently.
"Come in Jeanne." She pushed the door open.
"Why is she calling you John?" Jack whispered to me.
"She's saying Joan, in French, it's just pronounced like John."
"But dats not yas name." Jack questioned.
"Yea Ise know, but she says I remind her a Joan of Arc, so dats what she calls me." Jack shrugged,
"Whateva youse say, John."
"Lay her here." Madame said indicating to a low lying couch.
Jack set me down and Madame dismissed him, saying her could come back later at around six. He kissed me goodbye and set off after whispering,
"Don't worry, wese gonna soak good Bounce." As he walked out the door, Madame eyed him closely.
"Who is he?"
"Jack Kelly, my-"I couldn't say it"-my friend."
"You like this one, no?" She said going through a glass cabinet holding many vases, stones, and wands, some of which were from France.
"Yea." I said, half of me very reluctant. Madame pulled out a jar of dried plants, and gave me some to eat.
"Where in your stomach chére?"
"Dere" I said lifting my shirt and pointing it out.
"Don't let this Jack get away from you."
"He calls me his goil Madame." She looked up from rubbing an oil and water substance on my stomach and raised an eyebrow.
I continued, "Whadda ya tink a him?"
"He is very special to you, and he seems to be a good man.
Does he respect you?"
"Yea, he knows I don't take orders, and so he normally don't give me any."
"Bon" she said nodding her head in approval.
"Sleep now, it will be easier for me to work on you." She said, carefully removing my shoe and wrapping a warm, moist towel around it.
"I will burn scents if it makes it easier for you?" she said coaxingly.
"Please?" I asked, not tired at all. She light a small fire and sprinkled it with some oils. She knelt by my side and began to work her magic. The scent of lavender and chamomile soon filled the air, and my now heavy eye lids closed