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An Age of Innocence

 
 
My heart pounded in my throat as I frantically searched the little corner store.
I was on a mission.  Mother needed Kotex.
My family was in Canada only three months and with two years of once-a-week
elementary school English lessons I was the official family translator and "gofer".
But Kotex was not a word they taught in elementary school English in Holland.
The dictionary said 'maandverband' (Dutch) was 'napkins' (English).  Of course,
this dictionary also said a bathroom was a WC and we found that was a lie when
we were desperate to find a WC in a department store.
 
I searched the entire store, but couldn't find anything resembling 'napkins'.
I wandered around hoping someone had misplaced them and I would find boxes of
'napkins' with the potato chips or maybe the bread.  The only clerk working was
a good-looking young man.  He was getting suspicious.  And I was close to tears. 
At thirteen I was so shy I blushed even thinking of talking to that young man.
I certainly didn't want to ask him about 'napkins' in my broken English.
 
I waited until there were no customers left in the store.  With sweaty palms and 
a flush creeping up my neck I approached the clerk. 
 
"I need napkins," I said, feeling my face turn crimson.  He looked puzzled.
 
"Napkins," I repeated.
 
 
He walked to one of the shelves and returned with a package of serviettes.  I shook
my head.  Mortified I tried to think of a way to describe 'napkins'.

                                        

 
"Other napkins," I said and drew the shape with my hands.  He looked even more
puzzled.
 
"These are the only napkins we have," he said impatiently.
 
 
New customers had entered the store and stared at us curiously.  My face was
burning bright like a lighthouse.
 
 
"For bleeding," I whispered.  He shrugged and went to help another customer.
I was determined to accomplish my mission and waited.  The customer left and the
clerk turned back to me.
 
 
"For bleeding," I tried again, discreetly pointing towards my crotch, then drawing
in the air again.  Another blank look crossed his face.  No wonder I hated charades
so much.  I just wasn't very good at it.
 
 
Bless the lady behind me who suddenly realized what I needed.  She mentioned
something to the clerk and he disappeared.  He returned with a box wrapped in
plain brown paper.  I grabbed the box, paid and bolted from the store without
checking the contents.  At home I was relieved to find it was indeed Kotex.
 
 
Someone had taken the trouble to wrap every Kotex box in that store with brown
paper.  The summer of 1967 may still have been a time of modesty, but I think
I lost my innocence that day.
 

                                         Marion de Man

 

*****

 
 

 

 

 
     
 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
     
 

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March 19, 2004
Copyright / Design By
Marion de Man

 
     
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