<HTML><HEAD></HEAD>
<BODY dir=ltr>
<DIV dir=ltr>
<DIV style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri'; COLOR: #000000">
<DIV>A Dirty Contribution </DIV>
<DIV>by Kevin Brown </DIV>
<DIV>809 words </DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV>A faint pleasantly thrumming current was underlying the atmosphere at this
year's autumn family gathering. Fearful of upsetting its tenuous balance, no one
dared to speak of it out loud. Although, everyone sensed its positive influence
on the collective mood. Absent were the derisively whispered remarks about old
silent aunt Sally's always bland watery potato salad. Her oversized yellow
plastic bowl was the first to be proudly set on the table. it just kept getting
pushed further and further to a back corner of irrelevance when other dishes
were added to the pot luck spread. </DIV>
<DIV>Cousin Lily and cousin Bee placed their pots of smokey collard greens next
to each other as if tacitly agreeing to a sisterly peace treaty based on
geometry to their ongoing fiercely contested cooking competition. Everyone oohed
and aahed over the mouthwatering fried chicken, succulent neck bones and spicy
ox tails which were always the culinary highlights of the traditional family
meal. Each arriving member of the family was greeted with a warm hug or
handshake and an occasional sloppy kiss on the cheek. Every fashion statement,
no matter how outdated, outlandish or provocative was met with sincere
enthusiasm and appreciation. </DIV>
<DIV>Reggie's girlfriend Ella, the micro-mini skirt wearing, self appointed home
interior expert was effusive in her praise of the new gaudy decor. The plastic
seat covered plaid davenport, wicker framed tables and tropical print draperies
were all applauded as innovative and bold. Thanks to mail order convenience and
monthly payment plans. Only the children made mention of the neighbor Vira's
stark pumpkin colored cable knit sweater, matching shoes and lipstick ensemble.
Cousin Lily's twin four-year-old girls believed it to be the height of
compliment to tell Vira that she was pretty--just like their favorite cartoon
character, Daniel Tiger, who also happened to be orange. When one of the younger
men politely stepped outside for a breath of fresh air or a smoke, there were
exchanges of knowing smiles and dismissive shrugs of tolerance. It was
grudgingly accepted that this year's hostess, aunt May, didn't approve of the
consumption of alcohol in her home. As the evening progressed, there were twin
preoccupations on the remaining sober minds. A slowly growing giddy relief at
the consistent happy tidings along with a cliched attitude of the other shoe
dropping in anticipation. It finally happened. It was just as festivities were
beginning to wind down. Those who typically made early departures were composing
their exit line excuses. Someone, many believed it was little Bobby, gave name
to the unspoken thing in the room. Uncle Lenny was uncharacteristically wearing
clean clothes, sporting a fresh haircut and had even contributed a dessert of
pound cake. "It wasn't really nothin," uncle Lenny shyly blushed. "I always had
nice clothes, just didn't have a whole lotta fancy places to go." He stood up to
display his tan corduroy pants, tan sweater and scuffed high-top red basketball
shoes. Lenny bowed his head and blushed even harder after a few people profusely
complimented him on the delicious pound cake. "Well, I was real smart about that
cake too!" he proudly enthused. "It didn't cost me nothin'! I just put it on a
clean plate and covered it with plastic wrap after gettin' rid of that torn up
box it had in the trash bin!" The stunned silence was almost palpable. Then came
the chaos--immediate, familiar and dramatic which had almost become a tradition
of family gatherings. </DIV>
<DIV>Aunt May threw her hands in the air, rocked back and forth wailing a loud
prayer of supplication. "Sweet Jesus, Lord in Heaven, please protect us from all
the wicked ways of the Devil and his demons!" Cousin Lily turned in circles
while frantically gathering her three children screaming at little Bobby, "spit
out that dirty ol' cake right now!" Aunt Sally didn't mean to knock dishes to
the floor. It wasn't her fault the yellow salad bowl was at the hard to reach
back corner of the table. A couple of the red eyed young men, sitting unnoticed
in the corners, grinned while surreptitiously slipping pint bottles from their
pockets to take quick defiant sips behind the curtain of family tumult. They
were the only family members not too preoccupied by havoc to witness uncle Lenny
dejectedly hurrying out the side door. He had a fried chicken leg in his right
hand and what remained of the pound cake balanced in his left. After a few
steps down the road in the tepid air of a west Tennessee late evening, Lenny's
shoulders straightened from a slump. He lifted his head high to a regal baring
of self pride. Savoring a big bite of chicken, he shouted a declaration, "That's
why I never went to their ol' boring family dinners. I sure did bring them some
excitement this time. I don't even care if they thought my delicious cake was a
dirty contribution!" </DIV></DIV></DIV></BODY></HTML>