The Egyptian Fragrant Oil for Young Girls Everywhere
For obvious reasons, Suzy’s best friends call her Freckles. But not being permitted such liberties, we’ll call her Suzy, and the fragrance she inspired, we’ll call Freckles…here’s her story ~
As the Mickey Mouse alarm clock did his dance to wake Suzy up for the first day of a new school year, she could feel that the day held great promise. Even after Mathilda Beeson gave her a succulent peanut butter sandwich from her lunch box, since she didn’t want the goopy blackberry jam dripping onto her new dress, the feeling persisted. The tickle-tingle feeling down her spine was a sure sign: No sir, thought Suzy. This was no ordinary day – there were more good things to come.
Although the classroom clock was still broken, Suzy could tell when an hour had passed. Mrs. Downsworthy’s voice had become a mere drone, and MrFarlane, the plump boy in the corner, had finally found the mercy of sleep. Suzy envied him as she heard him emit an occasional soft snore.
She tried to ignore the discomfort of her braces by contemplating her resolution for the new school year. She had decided to cultivate a more dangerous and challenging image, and braces did not exactly contribute to her new look. She wore her hair loose, and a bright red curly bush around her freckled face was the result. Hopefully, Jimmy Armbruster’s eye would be drawn by this ravaging and stunning display of feminine beauty. She hopefully thought that she may have less freckles, but she couldn’t be sure since she hadn’t actually counted.
Her optimism for the outcome of the day, proved justified, when after lunch it was announced that Suzy was chosen to be amongst those students who would ride through town in the back of a truck singing the school anthem. It was hoped that this would encourage the enrollment of new students for their school. Mrs. Downsworthy, taken aback by Suzy’s new hairstyle and unruly look, had hesitated before including her in this venture, but what Suzy lacked in musical skill, she made up for with enthusiasm. Mrs. Downsworthy hoped that this would make up for the absence of an amplifying loudspeaker system on the truck.
The children would be wearing costumes and each participant carried home a letter to their mother, requesting their assistance with it. Suzy’s aunt Beverly, the one with the quivering hairs on her chin, had sent Suzy a book on Persian fairy tales for Christmas. She decided that she would request that her mother maker her a Sultana’s outfit, one that she could wear over her overalls.
That night she dreamt of herself in an exotic and alluring Sultana’s outfit, with Jimmy Armbruster dressed as a Sultan, by her side. With great anticipation, she took the bag with her outfit from her mother and skipped her way to school.
Finally, the hours passed and she heard Mrs. Downsworthy’s commanding voice say, “Put on your outfit Susan, and be on the truck in five minutes.” When Suzy opened her bag, she was speechless for once, with surprise and dismay. As though in a bad dream, she put on what looked like a deflated air balloon. Almost in tears, she waddled over to the truck. The children laughed at her bloated and wrinkled appearance. Mathilda Beeson, who was chosen for her clear, dulcet voice, looked dazzling in a Cleopatra outfit. She blurted out, “What is that supposed to be?” She pointed at Suzy’s ridiculous appearance with an expression of disdain, usually reserved for the discovery of unmentionables left on the front lawn by the neighbor’s dog.
“It’s a sultana, a larger and more plump version of a raisin used in puddings. Isn’t it obvious?” came her teacher’s quick reply. Mrs. Downsworthy had successfully quelled a raucous riot, but secretly she was grateful that she had a prior phone call from Suzy’s mother explaining her daughter’s odd choice of costumes, or it wouldn’t have been obvious at all.
When the truck stopped in the vicinity of her house, Suzy jumped off the truck. She could hear the children shout: “The raisin fell off the truck!” but she didn’t look back. With clumsy haste, she waddled all the way home, and sought refuge in her bedroom.
Her mother listened quietly as her daughter sobbed out the story of her tragedy. She even sat silently through her daughter’s accusations that she was ruining her social life and that instead of being seen as an alluring young woman, she would now be branded as a ‘raisin’ and become a social outcast for life.
Her mother finally left the room and returned with a little box labeled, “For an alluring and fascinating young woman.” Inside was a bottle of fragrant Egyptian oil; it’s heady fragrance hanging like a promise in the air. Suzy dried her swollen eyes, and suddenly perked up. With this secret ingredient in her game plan to create a fascinating and attractive image, success was practically guaranteed.
There was a spring in her step when she entered the classroom, in a fragrant cloud and with her head held high. Jimmy passed her a note and her heart sank momentarily. Was this more derision and ridicule? She unfolded the note. It read: “Do you want to go to Beatty’s Diner with me after school, for a soda?”