I took to the heart of the town by foot,
passing by the shingled buildings, wooden cross bridges, and soggy,
leaf-adorned porches of New England. I just loved experiencing the newness,
tasting a wacky flavor, bursting with the spirit of suburbia, indulging in the
evening sunsets, blooming pine trees, and piles of dried-up grass, something
which just wasn’t readily disposable in the city. I made my way down Main
Street, the area of Nashua that pulsated with small town energy more than
anywhere else. To my left, a local vendor sold “true blue American cheese” for
40 cents per pound. To my right, a faux Native American that donned a full
headdress and woven boots glared at the passersby with an eager look on his
face that spoke, “I am here in my native country, my native land, no matter
what. Take me away, but my soul is here to stay.” I felt a pang of
encouragement after taking a seat on a bench next to it. People went about
their daily routines, carrying bags full of groceries, riding bicycles with
flowery wicker baskets, chasing after the rowdy squirrels that crossed their
paths. I found myself amidst a splendidly tame environment that felt as if it would
never succumb to the pressures of daily life, the intimidation from its larger
metropolis cousins, no matter how many times it was jabbed with vicious intent.
Farther aside, a group of gals sat on a
bench and from the looks of it, were deep in conversation about rehearsed
choreography that was miraculously synchronized—nothing like our wild and
spontaneous twist or boney moronie. I outstretched my ear to catch a word or
two of their conversation. “Girls, make sure you move your right leg to the
left and crisscross it with your left leg on the count of three. Take it from
the top.”
They then demonstrated the Hully Gully and actually howled at the top
of their lungs like four Billie Holidays at the same time. No accompanying
musicians—they made their own music. I was astounded. There were four of them:
Nora was the one with the dirty blonde ‘do tied over with a towel. She seemed
the unofficial leader, followed by Paige, long-flowing fringe girl with long
limbs to match. Whatever Nora did or didn’t approve, she would back 110% ,which
often lead her into trouble. Then there was Edith, a squeamish broad who
scrunched up her nose and squinted her eyes past her frizzy lion’s mane and
looked like she was lived in her own little world beyond Main Street, beyond
the state, and possibly the planet. And finally Arabella, a plump figure who
tried as best she could to keep up with everyone, but obviously lagged well
behind the other three when it came to creative contributions.“Hold on, hold
on. I didn’t catch that very well. Let’s do it again,” she called out with a
mouth full of crumbs. From what I gathered, they weren’t one bit talented when
they were apart, but put them together and they were some hepcats, something to
be marveled at.
I watched the group on from afar. “Great,”
I thought to myself, “now that I’m on my own, perhaps I’ll nudge my way in and really dance this time—sing too! Ah, ah,
ah, maybe, maybe.” I caged myself in the nearby bushes to prevent them from
seeing my prying eyes. A half hour went by in studying moves and reassuring
myself of all the good that would happen in the future when I joined in on
their act, how all the pieces would fit together, how I’d finally achieve a
state of completeness. I wasn’t sure if madness set in or if I was just plain
coming to my senses, but after sitting among leaves and twine for what felt
like days, the time came to come clean out of the shadows and approach them.
The day broke gloomy and imminent clouds
appeared. While everybody scattered for shelter, I headed to the four girls
sitting on the bench who had yet to notice the flurry of panic that these
clouds brought on to bystanders. They were getting ready to leave and
discussing where and when they were to meet again, which bus to take to which
station, how much change they’d need to spend, and so on, when all of a sudden,
“Tally-ho!” Edith pointed to me in hysterics. Slowly they all ceased whatever
they were chattering on about, becoming but a mere paralyzed version of
themselves.
“Hi there. You looking for anyone to
join?” I blurted out senselessly before I even introduced myself. I forgot that
they couldn’t see me in the same way that I watched them from the prickles.
Delirium took over. Nora looked me up and down, snarled her lip, and asked, “
What’s your name, honey?” She tapped her lacquered high heels on the pavement
as the rest of them looked on from behind her shoulder.
“Valerie Freed.”
“Shucks, of course! We could always
recruit a new person in our group, can’t we Nora?” Arabella confided in Nora
but only received a stone cold stare that must have pierced through to the core
of her heart. Nora looked down, licked her lips, batted her eyelashes in a mean
sort of way, and circled around me with her arms folded and her shoes clacking.
She said, “Well, Valerie Freed. Show us what you got.” I did a little jig here,
a bit of twist there, some hand jive, and ta-da’d! She was less than impressed.
“Sorry,” she said as she unfolded her arms
and put her coat on, “we have no room for new members. Come on girls, let’s
go.” She led the way off the bench and down the street, with their pretty
ribbon-tied ponytails flopping back and forth. Edith, Arabella, and Paige
trailed behind and looked half-confused, half-sorry for me. They disposed of me
like a piece of trash. In a matter of minutes, I went from admiring and
imagining what could be to standing deserted on the sidewalk and wondering what
could have been.
Bohemia is released on September 13, 2012 and will be available for purchase worldwide on Amazon.com, Kindle, and American bookstores. Read more about the novel below.
©Veronika Carnaby, 2012.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written
permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.
On August 25th, Veronika Carnaby attended an awards ceremony for the first annual 2012 Literary Prize for Nonfiction, presented by Long Island's largest circulated newspaper, Dan's Papers, in East Hampton's Guild Hall. The event was attended by some of literature's most notable figures, including Dan's Papers President, Dan Rattiner, Chairman of Barnes & Noble, Len Riggio, celebrated journalist and biographer, Robert Caro, and Emmy Award winning news commentator, Pia Lindstrom. During his opening remarks, Dan Rattiner announced the inclusion of Carnaby's piece, "Long Island Wayfarers", in the fall 2012 issue of Dan's Papers Literary Journal.
