THUMB CUTTING 1958A Poem by Terry CollettA TEN YEAR OLD BOY AND GIRL AND A THUMB CUTTING RITUAL IN LONDON IN 1958A cutting of thumbs, thin sliced across the back, made by Benny's small penknife and thumbs pressed against each to each, blood mixed then he dabbed Ingrid's bleeding thumb until it ceased and placed a small plaster over, then did his own. She looked at her plastered thumb. So we're blood-brother and blood-sister now? She said. According to some blood oath I read somewhere we are, he said. She seemed pleased and rubbed her thumb. He put a plaster over his thumb and looked at her. What shall I say if my dad asks about it? She said. Just say you cut it while cutting an apple or something , Benny said. She looked uncertain. He'll know I'm lying, he always does, he gawks at me and says you're lying girl and wallops me. He wallops you anyway, Benny said. He walloped you the other day for going to church, how's that make sense? She looked at her thumb. Her father did. He smacked her head the other day for looking at him when he lost his door key and said she'd hidden it. What now? Benny said. Don't know, she said. Could go out to the herbalist shop and get some sarsaparilla that helps make blood, he said. She looked at her thumb. Will it be all right now? She said. Sure it'll be fine after an hour, your old man won't even know, Benny said. Well? Shall be go to the herbalist? He said. She looked at him, guess so. So they walked from his bedroom and he said to his mother, who was doing washing in a big tub, we're just going to the herbalist shop. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. What have you done to your thumb? Cut it by mistake, he said. Ingrid hid her thumb behind her back. O well be careful, his mother said. She looked at Benny and then Ingrid. You all right, Ingrid? Yes, thank you, Ingrid said, smiling weakly. So they walked out the flat and down the concrete stairway and down into the Square. Can someone marry someone after the blood thingy? She asked as they walked down the slope towards Rockingham street. He frowned. I guess so, he said, gazing up Meadow Row straight ahead. © 2015 Terry Collett |
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Added on November 8, 2015 Last Updated on November 8, 2015 Tags: BOY, GIRL THUMB CUTTING, RITUAL, LONDON, 1958 AuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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