written word, and I could almost hear her voice. If she could become a fiction writer, then I could become a journalist, I thought to myself as I walked down the hall, quietly passed the teachers’ conference room, and stopped near the main entrance of the school. I glanced out the windows, craving the outdoors, but I continued onward to my dreaded home economics. And like a robot so familiar with the programmed route, I didn’t need to look where I was going, so I opened Ava’s journal and read as I walked.
Ava
I knew I should be sleeping but I couldn’t. I felt too inspired, so I walked down the hall, quietly passing a room of men sitting in the smoke of Cuban cigars. I stole my own whiff, then opened the front door and stepped outside. I walked to the beach, thinking the entire way about how badly I wanted to become a fiction writer.
And when I kicked off my slippers and set foot in the sand, I was aware that my mother and father would lock me up had they known their young lady was walking on the beach alone and at night. But by the time my toes touched the warm water, it also became clear to me what I didn’t want for my life—a husband. Boys—all but the one who had prayed in the periwinkles for my daddy—were ugly, rude and dirty. Stewart was a good daddy, but the way mymama glared at him whenever he walked into the room taught me one thing: A man doesn’t make a woman happy. Quite the contraire! I wanted happiness. I wanted a world where girls grow up to be happy ladies. And besides, having a husband would mean having babies and I didn’t want to risk dying during childbirth like so many women had been doing.
When I looked up at the stars, I missed my friends back in Kentucky. I could only hope they too might reach these revelations. There was no way for me to share my new worldly views with them. Before moving to Florida, we shared books and lunches, and the basic, primitive belief that boys were nasty and that we’d rather swallow a raw shrimp than kiss the lips of any boy. We never took it any further than that. By no means had we ever said we’d never marry. And we never shared our ambitions. I had no idea what my friends back home dreamed of doing one day or whether they’d given it any thought.
But as I stood alone, ankle-high in the water with the moon beaming down, it was time for me to act on behalf of them and all the girls of the world, and I had to imagine that herds of them would be standing here with me, if they could.
Lydia
“Here,” I answered without looking up from the journal when the civics teacher called my name on the attendance roster. “I am most definitely present with you, Ava,” I muttered under my breath.
Only physically was my body sinking lower into the wooden desk at school, for my mind was standing beside Ava, ankle-high in the water way past dark with the moon beaming down on me. And I couldn’t stop reading, not now.
Ava
I stood there with my toes sinking into the sand. I was just one girl in a large world, but I stood there for us all, for all the girls who believe what Ido. Yes, I stood there as president of the unladylike club, and I could almost hear others from around the world and throughout the past and future ages cheering me on. I bent down and scooped up seashells in my hand. I didn’t know what they looked like, for it was too dark.
“I will not behave according to rules set forth by men,” I murmured as I dropped one shell. “I will never do what a lady is supposed to do but what I want to do,” I whispered as I threw another out to sea. “I will pursue my own dreams,” I said louder as I tossed one further than the last. I felt bold and courageous as I threw the entire handful of shells in my hand and then waited to hear them make their splashes. “I declare I will never marry a man!” I shouted at the top of my lungs with arms raised and head hung back and eyes wide open toward the moon. None of what I did was for the rudimentary
Ava
I knew I should be sleeping but I couldn’t. I felt too inspired, so I walked down the hall, quietly passing a room of men sitting in the smoke of Cuban cigars. I stole my own whiff, then opened the front door and stepped outside. I walked to the beach, thinking the entire way about how badly I wanted to become a fiction writer.
And when I kicked off my slippers and set foot in the sand, I was aware that my mother and father would lock me up had they known their young lady was walking on the beach alone and at night. But by the time my toes touched the warm water, it also became clear to me what I didn’t want for my life—a husband. Boys—all but the one who had prayed in the periwinkles for my daddy—were ugly, rude and dirty. Stewart was a good daddy, but the way mymama glared at him whenever he walked into the room taught me one thing: A man doesn’t make a woman happy. Quite the contraire! I wanted happiness. I wanted a world where girls grow up to be happy ladies. And besides, having a husband would mean having babies and I didn’t want to risk dying during childbirth like so many women had been doing.
When I looked up at the stars, I missed my friends back in Kentucky. I could only hope they too might reach these revelations. There was no way for me to share my new worldly views with them. Before moving to Florida, we shared books and lunches, and the basic, primitive belief that boys were nasty and that we’d rather swallow a raw shrimp than kiss the lips of any boy. We never took it any further than that. By no means had we ever said we’d never marry. And we never shared our ambitions. I had no idea what my friends back home dreamed of doing one day or whether they’d given it any thought.
But as I stood alone, ankle-high in the water with the moon beaming down, it was time for me to act on behalf of them and all the girls of the world, and I had to imagine that herds of them would be standing here with me, if they could.
Lydia
“Here,” I answered without looking up from the journal when the civics teacher called my name on the attendance roster. “I am most definitely present with you, Ava,” I muttered under my breath.
Only physically was my body sinking lower into the wooden desk at school, for my mind was standing beside Ava, ankle-high in the water way past dark with the moon beaming down on me. And I couldn’t stop reading, not now.
Ava
I stood there with my toes sinking into the sand. I was just one girl in a large world, but I stood there for us all, for all the girls who believe what Ido. Yes, I stood there as president of the unladylike club, and I could almost hear others from around the world and throughout the past and future ages cheering me on. I bent down and scooped up seashells in my hand. I didn’t know what they looked like, for it was too dark.
“I will not behave according to rules set forth by men,” I murmured as I dropped one shell. “I will never do what a lady is supposed to do but what I want to do,” I whispered as I threw another out to sea. “I will pursue my own dreams,” I said louder as I tossed one further than the last. I felt bold and courageous as I threw the entire handful of shells in my hand and then waited to hear them make their splashes. “I declare I will never marry a man!” I shouted at the top of my lungs with arms raised and head hung back and eyes wide open toward the moon. None of what I did was for the rudimentary
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