Small

Darlene was short. 34-1/2" to be exact. Some called her a "little person", which was dully annoying to her, and at the same time mildly amusing. She was little, compared to most, and she was a person. So even she would concede that she was a little person, although it had a hint or a very large stink of condescension.

Her friend, Barbara would drive her around places and take her to lunch and shopping. Barbara told Darlene that it was because she was so extra-special to her, and Darlene knew she was; she didn't need Barbara to tell her that. She had her shortcomings, like anyone else, but overall she enjoyed her own company and had a healthy sense of who she was and what she wanted. Darlene really thought that Barbara liked to take her places because she liked all the attention that Darlene drew when she walked into a place. All heads would turn, and then slowly look away (leaving trails in the air) as if to say, "I noticed immediately that you are very small, but I'm pretending that it doesn't affect me and that I am not prejudiced against little people; I am above that sort of judgment."

But as Darlene strolled through a shop, or walked to her table at a restaurant, or climbed into her seat at a movie theater, she would see the eyes return to her again and again, sizing her up, calculating figures, and asking silent questions. It was always the same, like purgatory might be. Then if she would speak to the eyes that were glancing and darting, they would look away, or feign an exaggerated sense of casualness or ambivalence, smiling at her and being overly polite while she clenched her teeth and smiled back at them, politely, also, but with a little show of her jolly good heart and generosity of spirit; she forgave them.

Barbara would act like a mother hen, ushering her in and out of places, using her own body to block the flow of traffic and steer the ship of their adventures. This was a relief and a burden to Darlene. Sometimes she welcomed the protection and comfort of her false mother-friend, and sometimes she felt she was suffocating underneath a very large pillow and things would start to swim in front of her, and she would slide into a slippery realm of non-existence and would have to sit down for a few minutes and catch her breath and sometimes even get a cold, wet cloth to put on her forehead. Barbara thought maybe she got dizzy from looking up all the time with her head tilted and her neck craned. Barbara could be very officious, but she was also right about a lot of things a lot of the time. The compound interest of their friendship totaled up to be more equal than the sum of its parts.

They were in a little boutique one afternoon, looking at pretty things; vintage clothing and jewelry, baubles and things to make pretty ladies even prettier. Barbara tried on several items, but none of them worked for her. She left them discarded in the dressing room and wandered around the store, picking things up and putting them down.

Darlene went through the store, collecting a gold lame blouse that she would wear as a cocktail dress, several printed silk scarves, and fabric butterflies and flowers for her hair. She was impetuous and moved quickly, not wanting to try anything on, but wanting to buy something beautiful.

Barbara complimented Darlene on her taste, and her unique fashion sense, beaming and smiling proudly at her little friend, as she paid the woman behind the counter and accepted her bags, all done very officially, as if handing parcels to the Queen of England, or curtsey-ing in a school play, stiffly yet with great pomp and circumstance. Barbara opened the door for Darlene as they exited.

Later that evening, alone in her bedroom, Darlene pinned the butterflies and flowers in her hair, and put on the gold lame blouse-dress, and carried several scarves in her hands at once, and danced around her room like a faerie princess, skipping and singing to herself. Her dress was slightly smock-like, but it was the color of kings and queens, and she dreamed very large and elaborate dreams that night.