Page 36

I couldn't stand myself. I started to tear off my stained dress and kicked off my shoes. Louella came rushing out with Henry and took one look and one whiff of me and cried, "Lord, have mercy!" She fanned the air in front of her and came to my side.

"Okay, okay. Louella's gonna fix it. Don't worry. Don't worry. Henry," she ordered, "take her into the room off the pantry where the old tub's kept. I'm going to get all the tomato juice I can find," she said. Henry went to lift me again, but I told him I could walk.

"You don't have to suffer, too," I said, covering my face with my hands.

In the room off the pantry, I stripped off all my clothing. Louella poured every can and jar of tomato juice she coul

d find into the tub and then had Henry go fetch some more. I bawled and sobbed as Louella washed me down with the juice. Afterward, she wrapped me in damp towels.

"You go upstairs and take a nice bath now, honey," she said. "I'll be right along."

I tried to hurry through the house, but my legs had turned to stone along with my heart. Mamma had taken her lunch party into the reading room where they were listening to some of her music on the Victrola and having tea. No one had heard any of the commotion outside. I thought about stopping to tell her what had happened, but decided to get myself into the tub first. The stench was still quite strong, hovering about me like a filthy cloud of smoke.

Louella joined me in my bathroom and helped me scrub down with the sweetest smelling soaps we had, but even after all we had done, I could smell the skunk's scent.

"It's in your hair, too, honey," she said sadly. "This shampoo ain't overcoming it."

"What will I do, Louella?"

"I seen this happen a few times," she said. "I'm afraid you'd best cut your hair off, honey," she said.

"My hair!"

My hair was my pride. I had the richest, softest hair of any girl at school. Those egg shampoos Louella and Henry had prescribed had helped. It was thick and full and down to the middle of my back. Cut off my hair? I might as well cut out my heart.

"You can wash it forever and you never gonna be satisfied the scent's gone, honey. Every night you put your head down on that pillow, you gonna smell it and the pillowcases are gonna smell from it, too."

"Oh, Louella, I can't cut my hair. I won't," I said defiantly. She looked glum. "I'll stay here all day washing it until it doesn't smell anymore," I said. "I will."

I scrubbed and scrubbed and rinsed and rinsed, but every time I brought the long strands around and smelled them, the scent of the skunk was there. Almost two hours later, I rose reluctantly from the tub and went to the sink and mirror in my bathroom. Louella had been running up and down the stairs, offering me every remedy she or Henry could think up. Nothing worked. I gazed at myself. My tears had stopped but the anguish in my eyes stayed.

"Did you tell Mamma what happened yet?" I asked Louella when she returned again.

"Yes," she said.

"Did you tell her I might have to cut my hair?" I asked, speaking as if in a daze.

"I did, honey."

"What did she say?"

"She said she's sorry. She'll be up here to see you as soon as her guests leave."

"Couldn't she come up before? Just for a moment?" "I'll go ask her," Louella said. A short while later, she returned without Mamma.

"She says she just can't leave her guests right now. You should do what you have to do. Honey, that hair's going to all grow back and sooner than you think."

"But until then, Louella, I'll hate myself and no one will think I'm pretty anymore," I cried.

"Oh no, child. You've got a pretty face, one of the prettiest faces in these parts. No one's gonna ever say you are ugly."

"Yes they will," I moaned, and thought about Niles and how disappointed he was going to be when he looked at me, how disappointed he was at this moment, waiting for Eugenia and me. But the stench seemed to radiate down from my head and drape me in skunk. My fingers trembling, I took hold of the scissors and pulled my hair out straight. I brought the scissors to the strands, but I didn't cut.

"I can't, Louella!" I cried. "I just can't." I buried my face in my arms on the table and sobbed. She came over and put her hand on my shoulder.

"You want me to do it for you, child?"

Reluctantly, with my heart as hollowed out as a walnut shell, I nodded. Louella took the first strands into one hand and the scissors into the other. I heard the clipping begin, each snap, chopping into my heart as well, my body aching with sorrow.