Evie Ludd and Her Mama
By Jeffrey H. MacLachlan
Appalachian Dolls by Ellen Turner, 1980
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: What are you saying, child?
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: Why are your hands posed like a strangler?
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: Oh, the boy.
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: Dear child, this is what we shall do. The boy is known. We shall collect his body and fashion a bonfire until he dyes into seasoned pine. Your gingham dress is fresh as common milkweed so neighbors remain mum. Our creator tightened everyone with sewn lips.
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: Asheville skies are Eden blue. This is a Jesus eye through a peephole. This is what my mama told me when the same thing happened in that gingham dress. The devil's test. Eve should have skinned the serpent for a modesty belt. My mama's spirit will assist.
Evie Ludd: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Mama: ki ki ki ma ma ma
Jeffrey H. MacLachlan also has recent work in New York Quarterly, The Greensboro Review, decant, among others. He is a Senior Lecturer of literature at Georgia College & State University.