Tales Unsuitable for ChildrenBy Devon Ortega
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I.
There was once a winter
so cold the land shivered,
and could trick
your mind with mirages.
A young boy thought he
saw a deer flit
in his peripheral vision
while admiring the trees,
glassed with ice.
But then his mother told him,
in a kind, reassuring voice:
the deer all died in their sleep
in the ice-rain and lie entombed,
like Pompeii, in the field
behind the Howard Johnson.
The chamber of commerce
decorated them with twinkle lights
and are charging people five dollars
to drive through the field
to see them. Perhaps we shall
go on Sunday? Would you
like that?
II.
The father used to raise cows.
The daughter wanted desperately
to love them but they were
very shy, never looking a person
in they eye, and turning away
whenever a young girl might try
to see into their big, pretty cow-faces.
It was difficult to loop a lead
over a shy cow's head
and walk her off to slaughter--
even when the cows were told
they were to go to the park
to eat the marigolds the girl scouts
planted. They must have known
these were lies. Perhaps
they were psychic cows;
however, since she couldn't
catch their mysterious attention,
she never could have them tell
her fortune before they decided
to break through the electric fence
one dark, stormy night, never
to be seen again.
III.
Long ago, but not so very long,
a girl, a small girl, decided to fight
Darkness. Clad in lucky fox furs
and chain mail mittens, she set off
to meet Darkness where he lived.
She looked absolutely adorable.
She searched for Darkness all across
the land and never found him until,
suddenly, he found her and when he
did, he set upon her so stealthily,
and came upon her so heavily, she
fell under his weight. Before she hit
the ground, she lit a small candle and
hid it away, deep inside her chest where
it still burns to this day, despite the
crushing darkness that sits upon her.
Such a delicate light—it would be a
miracle if it still burns.
IV.
For many years, a china doll sat
patiently upon a shelf at an obscure
toy shop. She had a very particular
face, painted to look wide-eyed and
startled. She also had the particular
habit of loving everyone who looked
in her direction. After sitting in that
spot on the shelf for so many years,
she realized that no matter how hard
or how frequently she loved, she never
had received love in return. Her fragile
limbs were thick with dust and her
arms were suddenly very tired from
being so outstretched for so long.
"Be mine," she said, as she pitched
herself forward towards a child
standing below her. She was not
caught, but shattered into many
interesting pieces that the store
owner used for a mosaic stepping
stone in his garden. Her eyes look
upon the tomato plants now and
she has no thoughts about love.
V.
There once was a girl who
fell in love with an abandoned
limestone quarry. The water
was the loveliest blue, like
her mother's eyeshadow,
and the sun sparkled on
the water like little miracles.
For weeks, the girl was content
to sit near the gritty beach
and gaze into the azure
waters. But soon she felt
a strong desire to submerge
herself under the surface
and become a part of the
little lake and love it from
within. So she filled her
pockets with pebbles of flint
and limestone and dolomite
that littered the shore. She carefully
removed her shoes and approached
the edge. And jumped. She saw
under the water, tiny celebratory
bubbles floating upward
in as she descended.
Just when she felt she was about
to reach the bottom of the quarry
and her toes felt as cold as they
ever had, the lake propelled
her out of itself, spitting her back
onto the rocky shore. She did
not drown, but she felt no joy.
There was once a winter
so cold the land shivered,
and could trick
your mind with mirages.
A young boy thought he
saw a deer flit
in his peripheral vision
while admiring the trees,
glassed with ice.
But then his mother told him,
in a kind, reassuring voice:
the deer all died in their sleep
in the ice-rain and lie entombed,
like Pompeii, in the field
behind the Howard Johnson.
The chamber of commerce
decorated them with twinkle lights
and are charging people five dollars
to drive through the field
to see them. Perhaps we shall
go on Sunday? Would you
like that?
II.
The father used to raise cows.
The daughter wanted desperately
to love them but they were
very shy, never looking a person
in they eye, and turning away
whenever a young girl might try
to see into their big, pretty cow-faces.
It was difficult to loop a lead
over a shy cow's head
and walk her off to slaughter--
even when the cows were told
they were to go to the park
to eat the marigolds the girl scouts
planted. They must have known
these were lies. Perhaps
they were psychic cows;
however, since she couldn't
catch their mysterious attention,
she never could have them tell
her fortune before they decided
to break through the electric fence
one dark, stormy night, never
to be seen again.
III.
Long ago, but not so very long,
a girl, a small girl, decided to fight
Darkness. Clad in lucky fox furs
and chain mail mittens, she set off
to meet Darkness where he lived.
She looked absolutely adorable.
She searched for Darkness all across
the land and never found him until,
suddenly, he found her and when he
did, he set upon her so stealthily,
and came upon her so heavily, she
fell under his weight. Before she hit
the ground, she lit a small candle and
hid it away, deep inside her chest where
it still burns to this day, despite the
crushing darkness that sits upon her.
Such a delicate light—it would be a
miracle if it still burns.
IV.
For many years, a china doll sat
patiently upon a shelf at an obscure
toy shop. She had a very particular
face, painted to look wide-eyed and
startled. She also had the particular
habit of loving everyone who looked
in her direction. After sitting in that
spot on the shelf for so many years,
she realized that no matter how hard
or how frequently she loved, she never
had received love in return. Her fragile
limbs were thick with dust and her
arms were suddenly very tired from
being so outstretched for so long.
"Be mine," she said, as she pitched
herself forward towards a child
standing below her. She was not
caught, but shattered into many
interesting pieces that the store
owner used for a mosaic stepping
stone in his garden. Her eyes look
upon the tomato plants now and
she has no thoughts about love.
V.
There once was a girl who
fell in love with an abandoned
limestone quarry. The water
was the loveliest blue, like
her mother's eyeshadow,
and the sun sparkled on
the water like little miracles.
For weeks, the girl was content
to sit near the gritty beach
and gaze into the azure
waters. But soon she felt
a strong desire to submerge
herself under the surface
and become a part of the
little lake and love it from
within. So she filled her
pockets with pebbles of flint
and limestone and dolomite
that littered the shore. She carefully
removed her shoes and approached
the edge. And jumped. She saw
under the water, tiny celebratory
bubbles floating upward
in as she descended.
Just when she felt she was about
to reach the bottom of the quarry
and her toes felt as cold as they
ever had, the lake propelled
her out of itself, spitting her back
onto the rocky shore. She did
not drown, but she felt no joy.
Devon Ortega is a wife and mother of four from Columbus, Ohio. She received her B.A. in English from The Ohio State University and her master's degree from Ohio University. Recipient of the 2010 Gertrude Lucille Robinson award, her poetry has appeared in Barren Magazine, Door Is a Jar, and others.