Eden

by Olympia Vernon

  The rabid dog barked in the distance, her howling now dying off in the woods of the forest. How much longer did she have to live? What would happen to her? The road was blue now. She was out there watching the flames, the bodies, the breastless spirit dance around the pyre.

  The things that shaped my thoughts: Aunt Pip had returned to a life of diapers like babies at birth. For babies know nothing of the world they are born into. They are brought forth by images, women with no names or faces. I was thinking of the letter I’d found hidden in the jewelry box beneath Aunt Pip’s bed, the letter she had written to Jesus because she had wanted him to change her sister’s heart, only to have it returned by the Bible company she had addressed it to, telling her that they were in the business of publishing God’s Word and whosoever shall find the Word shall keep it. This was the mumbling that she’d committed herself to all those nights when I was deaf and could not listen, because I was lost in the rattles of distant things.

  I was lost in the land of Eden.

  acknowledgments

  My sisters and brothers for coming together when they used to: Renee, Dana, Ricky, Ollie, Landy, and Cheryl. My nieces and nephews: Jacque, Cortney, Blake, Billy, Nature, Tre, Darion, Jasmine, and Oliver’s family. Aunt Seleria Jones for the inspiration.

  Thomas Williams for the ink cartridges, the reams of paper, the coffee, and for adopting me from the hand of God.

  My second mother, Carole McAllister, for feeding me the many years that I probably would have starved to death, for keeping the light in my eyes. No one of flesh will ever know how much I suffered more than you. Judy Kahn for feeling my commitment to words. And Alba Taylor: fight!

  My friends who knew that I was empty and never mentioned my poverty: Cathy Pope, Fredric Fland, Gary Smith, Geoffrey Ball, Cedric Dangerfield, Johari Ellis, Brett Eames, Bryce Williams.

  The following professors: William Dowie, Jim Bennett (the first to read Eden), Joe Kronick, Andrei Codrescu, my pal, and Rick Blackwood. Moira Crone, for introducing me to my agent, Amy Williams (my verbal firecracker!).

  Special thanks to Lauren for the special notes attached to the samples and her efforts to shake the tail of a dragon with loose fingers. And my editor, Elisabeth, who sorted through the character trees and symbols to find the gem. Thank you to the first to allow me to put my dream down on pages and for truly getting it— to the hippest team of the publishing world, Grove/Atlantic.

  To the late: Geraldine Cimino, Aunt Barbara Ann, Cathy Kagle, Thelma McAllister, Annie Lee Hurst, Alice Reams, Gwen Porter, Evelyn Blackmor Skaggs, Aunt Creola Vemon-Batchelor, and the baby that was lost in my mama’s stomach.

  Lastly, Mama for bringing me into the world with a pen in my hand.

  I wish I could thank you all. There is not enough space in the world.