The Cameo, Part 2

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From: an4@anon.lelnet.com
Newsgroups: alt.smokers.glamour
Subject: The Cameo, part 2
Date: 12 Jan 1997 19:42:38 GMT
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   Last night had been one of the best Sarah could remember.
   Mom had taken her to La Grande Cafe, their favourite french restaurant. On
the way she'd stopped at the Rite Aid and bought Sarah a carton of cigarettes
and a pack of lighters and made it clear that any time she needed cigarettes,
she had only to ask for them.
   As always, they'd sat in the smoking section, but for the first time, Sarah
had been allowed to join her mother in smoking. The meal had taken on an
entirely different cast. Somehow the taste of the food seemed more intense,
more vivid. Perhaps part of that was that mom had also allowed Sarah to have
a glass of wine for the first time, but there was more to it than that.
   Sarah also discovered that she liked to watch other people smoke as well.
There seemed to a sense of community that they all shared and she found
herself pitying the non-smokers who sat huddled together what she realised
for the first time was the smaller section of the restaurant. They stared at
the smokers, looking hostile and blank.
   When the meal was finally over, they'd gone home and played Mom's favourite
game. Trivial Pursuit. Mom always won- until last night. Sarah had never felt
so alive. The answers to the questions seemed to spring into her mind. She
remembered reading some studies which suggested that smokers displayed better
memory skills and she had to agree.
   When the game was over mom had put on a big pot of coffee and Sarah soon
understood exactly what Mom had meant. There was nothing quite like the taste
of coffee and cigarettes. They'd stayed up late, smoking and talking, and at
some point Sarah understood that a fundamental shift had occurred in their
relationship. They were no longer just mother and daughter. They were friends
now.
   Just before they'd gone to bed, mom had signed a permission slip giving
Sarah access to the student's smoking lounge. Sarah didn't remember picking
up the form at the school office, but she was glad to have it. No more
sneaking into the bathroom or out behind school between periods.
   She'd just gotten out of the shower and wrapped herself in her terry-cloth
robe. She walked into her bedroom and saw the new pack of cigarettes she'd
set by the ashtray on her nightstand. 
   Without hesitating she stripped the cellophane off the box and extracted one
of the long white cigarettes. She sniffed the fresh tobacco and felt that
familiar tingle of anticipation. But it was not as strong this morning as it
had been yesterday. Curious, she lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply,
expecting the smoke to taste sweet.
   The familiar sense of lightheadedness was there, but the cigarette tasted
strange. The smoke from it was acrid and stung her eyes and she almost
coughed. The smoky taste in her mouth was almost unpleasant, a bad mix with
the aftertaste of toothpaste.
   She took another, longer drag, and this time she did cough. The cigarette
wasn't good at all. In fact, there was little sensation at all except a faint
nausea, something she remembered feeling only the first time she'd smoked a
cigarette.
   Which was when ?
   Now it came to her. The morning after her birthday she'd decided to walk to
school. It was only three miles, and the roads had been well plowed the night
before. But she had never walked to school before.  The reason why was
crystal clear. She'd wanted to stop by the store and pick up a pack of
cigarettes. Just like that. She'd gotten up in the morning, realised that she
didn't have any cigarettes, and known that she'd need to stop by the Gas 'n
Go and get a pack.
   Even though she'd never once smoked in her life.
   As soon as she'd gotten outside the store, marvelling at how easy buying
them had been, she'd lit one. It had tasted just like this, but by the time
she'd walked a mile, she'd gotten used to it. Enough to light a second one,
which tasted much better.
   But why had she gone there in the first place ?
   Although she wasn't enjoying this cigarette, she kept smoking it. She wasn't
sure why. Maybe because she could now. Maybe because her mom had seemed-
   Maybe a different person was too harsh. But she'd admitted during dinner
that while the purely mother part of her had hoped that Sarah wouldn't take
up smoking, she'd been mostly happy that she'd be able to share it with her.
That she was relieved it had finally happened and that part of her had been
glad to walk in the door last night and see Sarah had finally started
smoking.
   'I hope you don't think that means I don't care about you,'  Mom had said,
as though letting Sarah smoke was somehow selfish.
   Still, it was hard to finish the first cigarette, almost as hard as to light
the second one. She heard her mother in the shower. It was over an hour until
the bus would come, so Sarah sat down on the bed and opened Wuthering
Heights, remembering how much she'd been enjoying it yesterday. But even that
seemed somehow less pleasurable, and Sarah wondered if this was what an
hangover was. As well as whether you could get one from a single glass of
white wine.
   She waited until Mom had gone downstairs to start breakfast to leave her
room. She took the cigarettes with her, not because she was looking forward
to smoking any more of them but because she had the strangest feeling that
her mom would want to see her doing it. By the time she'd gotten downstairs,
the coffee, on automatic timer, had been poured, and Mom was nearly done
frying up some scrabbled eggs with scallions and cheese, Sarah's favourite
and a rare break from their usual cereal.
   Mom stopped what she was doing, and for the second time in two days started
a discussion with "Sarah Amanda," this time adding "you have got  to be more
careful."
   Again, Sarah was confused. What had she done now ?
   Mom answered the unspoken question by reaching into her pocket and
extracting the cameo. Sarah's hand went to her throat and sure enough, it
wasn't there.
   "Where did you find it ?"
   "In the trap of the tub. It must have fallen off while you were taking your
shower."
   Sarah sighed nervously. The ancient cast iron tub had one of those
out-of-date drains with the large trap. The was just a metal cross hair
across the inside and she understood that the cameo could have easily slid
right down the drain. There was panic at the mere thought of such a disaster
happening.
   "Maybe I should take this to the jewelers and have them put a new clasp on
it."
   Now Sarah remembered. Her long red hair had gotten tangled in the clasp
while she wash washing it this morning. Her hands had been slick with shampoo
and she'd fiddled with the clasp, trying to get her curly hair free. It must
have come undone.
   For some reason, the thought of being without the cameo was extremely
unsettling and Sarah almost screamed out "No- I'll be more careful, I
promise. My hair got tangled in the clasp, that's all."
   "It nearly flushed down the drain, honey. If the chain hadn't caught on the
trap- it was really strange. That chain was wrapped around there two or three
times. I've never seen anything like it."
   Sarah got up from the table and walked over to the stove. Her mom seemed
strangely hesitant to turn the antique over. "Are you sure you wouldn't
rather I had it fixed ?"
   "No," Sarah said, and then reiterated that she would be more careful with
the family heirloom. She put it back on immediately and once again it felt as
though it had always been there.
   She went back to the table, took a few sips of coffee, and resigned herself
to lighting another cigarette. Her friend Heather had told her that when she
had first started smoking she couldn't stand it, even though her older
sister, who she shared a room with, had been smoking for almost a year. It
was natural, Heather said, to not really like it at first. Then again,
Heather smoked Newports, and they seemed harsher than the Marlboros.
   The cigarette went between her lips and Sarah noticed that her mother was
watching her. She was determined to make it look good regardless of how it
tasted. She brought the flame to tip without hesitation and inhaled.
   It was wonderful. Easily the best cigarette she had ever lit. After exhaling
she took a deep draw from her coffee cup and once again marvelled at what an
amasing combination it was. She saw her mother smile and Sarah had a feeling
that everything was going to be just fine.


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