Issue 11
Iron
Diane Payne
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"You rat! Men! You can never trust them! You can do better without him!"
I watch my mother shake her iron at the man who is packing his suitcase on the TV and beg her to tell me what's going on.
"Shh, I'll tell you during the commercial."
"Can't you tell me now? I'm missing something important. Why is the man going on a vacation without the crying woman?"
"Shh. During the commercial."
Then she starts to scream again. "You sure had me fooled! Ooh, I know that type. Buster, you're barking up the wrong oak tree." Then she laughs, pleased a woman is finally getting the upper hand.
Wide-eyed and somewhat frightened, I stare at my mother who is standing behind the ironing board, clenching the hot iron, but not ironing. She's just shaking it toward the TV, as if she wants to burn the dirty rat, finish him off. The next minute she wants to comfort the crying lady with the fancy hair.
And just like that, when the commercial comes on, Mom starts ironing the shirt. It's no wonder so many of our clothes have iron burns. Those clothes are supposed to be on some dirty rat's back.
~Diane Payne
Diane teaches writing classes at University of Arkansas-Monticello where she's also faculty advisor of their literary magazine The Foliate Oak. Red Hen Press is publishing her novel this year. Email.
© 2003 by Diane Payne. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2003 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.