The prompt this week for Six Sentence Stories is “fair”. Not too long ago one of my favorite characters, Hope, was at a county fair riding a carousel for a Carrot Ranch challenge. This six sentence story follows that one but is also a further exploration of Hope’s mother, who, as these characters randomly show up, has hesitantly revealed herself to be Indigenous. I hesitate to write her but know she has things to say.
Traditional Fair by D. Avery
After Hope dismounted, her long hair as shiny and black as the carousel horse, she and her father walked across the fair grounds to the hall where the baked goods and vegetables were displayed for judging.
“Think your mother has a ribbon for her pie?” he asked Hope, still surprised she had wanted to compete, even after he told her that Mrs. Smith always took the blue.
“Maybe, Daddy, Mommy’s pies sure are good, and look, there’s people talking to her.”
With a thin fixed smile Hope’s mother engaged with the people who paused at her pie, displayed in front of the container she’d carried it in, but when Hope and her father got to her there was no ribbon.
“These people are not interested in my pie,” she said, “they only want to know about the basket I brought it in, want to know if I’ll make more, offered money, but I tell them I don’t sell baskets.”
She saw the questions in his face but needed to work out for herself her feelings about making baskets; about seeming always to be in the wrong hall, about winners being preordained.