The Meadow Literary and Art Journal 2012

Blue Apron by Catherine Austin Alexander When you’re 11 and your mom sews for you, cooks almost everything you want and is your best friend, it’s okay if she’s a slut. But when she brings home a policeman who wants to stay for a while, that’s a disaster. Mom soaks in the bathtub a long time before she gets dressed and puts on her makeup. Before she leaves, she sets out something like a pork chop, noodles and broccoli. Our old Boston Terrier, Spike, loves the broc- coli. Mom always kisses me good night, calls me her little girl and tells me not to let anyone in and to dial “0” for operator in case of emergency. Madison Grade School is just up the street, so I come home for lunch almost every day. Mom has a peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting for me. Tapioca pudding and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. “How was school this morning, honey?” she always asks. “Okay I guess.” “You didn’t get chased on the way by Billy?” “Not this morning.” “Well, if he tries it again, I’ll pay a visit to his mother.” “Sure, Mom.” Billy the bully lives two doors up. He’s fat with buck teeth and a butch haircut. He slobbers. And always chases me, but I know how to kick and where. Mom made me a cute little blue apron so I wouldn’t spill on my sweater and matching skirt. On the bib part of the apron, she sewed a little don- key pulling a flower cart, which I love -- even if it’s something for a little kid. At noon on real cold days, Mom walks Spike and meets me at school. She wraps me inside her fur coat for the trip home. But I’m already wear- ing my own fur coat and white muff. Then one real cold and snowy lunchtime, a patrolman from the Lakev- iew Police waits with my mother and Spike in front of Madison School. I think he’s gonna arrest me for kicking Billy in the nuts after he called my mother a “slut.” The cop wears a dark blue uniform with a gold star above the pocket and a patrolman’s hat with a funny brim. He’s tall, thin and blows out smoke from his Camel. His eyes are ice-blue with red spider lines in them. Before my mother even gets a chance to introduce us, he says, “Hi, I’m Clyde Moore. And you’re little Liza. Your mom has been telling me about you. But I must say you’re even prettier than she described.” I’m happy about not being arrested, but I don’t believe the pretty part. Something was up. the Meadow 25