"Take That Woman", by Sylvia Alston. (Equal 3rd) Judges' report
"Take That Woman", by Sylvia Alston, examines the effect of both domestic violence and love on a set of connected characters. The excerpt below is set at the funeral of a man who bullied his wife and son. The quiet, very Australian style has moments of wry humour, and young Andrew's discomfort is almost palpable.
Judges' remarks: "I like the funeral scene." "Well controlled." "Experienced author." "Natural style."
TAKE THAT WOMAN, by Sylvia Alston- Excerpt.
‘Man that is born of woman
has but a short time to live, and is full of misery.
He cometh up and is cut down like a flower …’.
Andrew pushed up the sleeves of his black jacket, exposing stiff white cuffs
that reached almost to his fingertips. He
was hot, tired and thirsty and would’ve given his entire collection of Johnny
O’Keefe LPs if he could take his jacket off.
He glanced at his mother, red
eyed, dabbing her eyes with white hankie bought specially for the occasion.
She was wearing a new black suit with a straight skirt and short jacket
that suited her short, stumpy body. She’d
also bought herself some shoes with high heels, a black leather handbag and a
cream-coloured straw hat with a wisp of black gauzy stuff wrapped around its
brim. She’d turned quite a few
heads when she got out of the car at the church.
She stood at the graveside, head bowed, hands clasped in front of her.
Her tall skinny daughters, Nola and Irene, on either side of her, like a
pair of bookends. The twins wore
identical white blouses, long tight sleeves and wide lapels, under black
pinafore dresses. At least they don’t have to wear a jacket!
A bush fly landed on Andrew’s sweat covered upper lip.
He tried to ignore it but it was no good.
He slapped at it and it buzzed off, but came back seconds later. He kept his lips clamped shut so he couldn’t swallow it.
That’s one advantage of wearing a veil, he thought, looking at the dinky
little one shielding the upper part of his mother’s face.
And it hides the bruises. That
last belting had been one too many. It’d
killed his father. Who would’ve
thought that such a big bloke could’ve had such a weak heart?
His mother’s face was still technicoloured.
Told everyone she’d fainted when she realised her beloved husband was
dead. Must’ve fallen head first,
she’d said. The bruises had
almost gone now. Soon she’d have
nothing to remember him by.
*
At equal 3rd, Sylvia wins the prize package offered at PRIZE for 3rd place.
