Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama

Little Dove's Plight.
By Dawn E.Bedell
An old woman sitting near a tree in the local city park. There is where she meets her friends.
The squirrels, pigeons, wasps, and the gentle smiles from children being strolled around by a
parent. She is a mother but was never allowed to explore her nurturing side with her own off
spring, because people felt that she was too young at the time to be a mother so they took her
baby away.
She watches the butterfly flying pass and sends up thoughts of love and appreciation for all the
hard lessons that almost broke her spirit. A couple passes by her jibbering some foreign
language and the old woman continues to smile and feed the pigeons.
It is late afternoon, on a fall day, and she knows rain may come because her bones tell her. She
chuckles to herself and stares at the pigeons eating the crumbs. She overhears another
passerby say, "Crazy old hag. " The sorrow is in her eyes but she smiles on doing her love
deeds joyfully.
A white bird suddenly appears, lands amongst the pigeons, then struts around but is not
interested in the crumbs.
“Hello, Little Dove.” The old woman says.
She walks closer to get a better look at little dove. When she looks into the white dove's eyes
she is catapulted into the truth of her life story.
Indians and Africans dancing together to a drum around a fire. Rattles shaking, sacred smoke
from herbs filling the air as she floats above observing. Chains are on the feet of all dancing.
Their red eyes are glowing from each in the circle as they dance and chant.
A whisper says,”Look into the fire”.
The old woman sees herself as a child in the midst of adults who all have dark clouds around
them with snakes coming from their mouths. The child curls up in fetal position crying and turns
into a beach ball. The beach ball flies out from the fire where the Indians and Africans chained
to the ground are dancing. They all take turns kicking and throwing it around until it pops. A
whisper says, “This is how you learned to shut down.” A tear comes from the old woman's eyes
and she sobs but stops sobbing when the air from the beach ball forms into a teenage girl. The
young maidens image is translucent and icicles are in her heart. She wears a mask. The
dancing and singing stops. She approaches each member of the circle and pulls a mask from
their chests and places it over her own. She jumps into the fire and laughter echoes loudly then
it slowly fades. The chained members of the circle carry on dancing and chanting around the
fire. Time moves fast as seasons change from one to the next. The coming and going of
animals, trees, rivers, lakes in a time warp never experienced. A whisper, “Your test is finished,
job well done. You continued to love."
The singing and dancing can be heard and fades away. She softly lands on the park’s grass
and is lying on her back watching a feather fall from the dove as it flies away. People are
hovering over her.
“Mam? Are you okay?” Says a man
Finally, she feels someone cares enough to acknowledge her. She whispers , “Thank you.”
Looks up at the man, smiles, then takes her last breath.
A woman asks,”Is she dead?
The man replies, “I am afraid so she lives under the bridge with the rest of the vagrants. One
less mouth to feed. Call 911.”
The crowd disperses as the ambulance pulls up to collect her body. Weeks later the man who
found the old lady notices a group of pigeons in the same spot where he found her body. He sits
on the bench and watches them but wonders how she could smile in such a sad situation. The
little dove returns and he walks closer to get a better look.