The Blue Dress Lady
by John Power
It was hot out and Julie hated her stupid job. It was hot out and she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and had spent her entire day walking up and down streets. She’d spent the past three weeks walking up and down streets, and would spend the rest of the summer walking up and down streets. It was hot out and the only break she got was when it rained, and then she had to stay in the office and file papers all day and make small talk with a group of people she didn’t want to know anything about.
The best part of the job was that when her mom or anyone else asked her what she was doing for the summer, she responded with “walking the streets,” and knew for that brief moment that she had disappointed and horrified them. She would, however, have to explain her answer, and working as an intern for an environmental group wasn’t as shocking as being a prostitute. Julie didn’t quite know what the group did exactly, but didn’t really care. College was a short summer off, and the ten seventy-five an hour drew her away from the camp that paid seven-fifty last year.
Her main duty actually was walking the streets. She would put up posters advertising guest speakers. She would put up signs about big issues and how people could get involved. She would knock on doors asking for money. She would put flyers in mailboxes. She would hand out pamphlets in front of the supermarket. She would ask people to fill out questionnaires. It was legwork that required no skill and didn’t teach any either. It was numbing. For the first few weeks it numbed her feet and her calves. Once she got over that, it numbed her brain.
Julie spent her day mingling with a public she detested. But as much as she hated them, the people were, perhaps, the second-best part of the job: they were always good for a few stories. There was the man with the big sunglasses and hooded sweatshirt that she called Unibomber. On one of her trips collecting donations she knocked on a door and this man appeared saying that he wanted to give, but discovered he had lost his wallet. He made Julie wait for twenty minutes while he turned his house upside down, finally remembered he had left his wallet in the car, and then gave her a three-dollar donation with three crumpled dollar bills. There was Big Eyes Girl, so named because her eyes seemed to be literally popping out of their sockets, revealing much more white than the typical eye. There was Tux Man. In the middle of the day while Julie was handing out flyers he exited the supermarket wearing a tuxedo and carrying a brown paper bag. She offered him a flyer, and he started telling her how her organization was nothing more than a bunch of tree-hugging communists who didn’t care about the Constitution. There was Miss America, the pretty lady wearing too much makeup who needed help filling out every single part of a very simple questionnaire that Julie handed her. In reality, few of the people Julie met earned a name, but there were enough of them. There was Psycho-Bitch-Lady, the Three Sisters, Poor Housewife, Fat Man, Ugly Man, Hat Lady, the Nose, Deaf Woman, the Leprechaun, Trailer-Trash Lady, and Beardy. They made for good stories, and entertained her friends at the very least.
Julie was way across town handing out questionnaires today, or perhaps flyers, or on the off chance, pamphlets. She wasn’t sure and it didn’t really matter after all. She rang the bell to a small gray house with a red door and a nice garden, the flowers wilting in the midday heat. She waited. She rang again and began to stuff some flyers into the mailbox when an old lady with white hair wearing a blue dress opened the door.
“Hello,” the Blue Dress Lady said with a kind smile.
“Hi, ma’am. My name’s Julie. I’m with the environmental group ECWT.”
“Oh, well come inside, dear. Come inside out of the heat.”
The old woman opened her door wide, and then backed up to give Julie room to enter.
“Well, we’re really—”
Julie stopped herself. She looked at the fragile Blue Dress Lady and decided that no matter what her training manual said, and no matter what her boss told her, this ancient woman could do no harm. Her bright blue eyes matched her bright blue dress and gave her the look of the universal grandmother that Julie never had. At the very least, Julie figured it would kill some time.
She entered the house and the heat was stifling. This Blue Dress Lady clearly lacked both an air conditioner and a fan. It seemed too as if none of the windows were open, and the air smelled and tasted stagnant. The house, or at least the living room that Julie stood in, was cramped. It was filled with furniture, newspapers, boxes, books, flowers, dust, coins, pictures, magazines, and cards and letters of all kinds. There were a few lamps here and there, but their dingy shades seemed to be blocking most of the light. The tired furniture accentuated the effect of false darkness in the room. Creaking floorboards underfoot, and humming motors from filters on the three fish tanks, were the only audible noises. Julie pulled at and shook the front of her t-shirt, now beginning to grow moist from sweat, in a vain attempt to cool off.
“Would you like a seat?” the Blue Dress Lady offered.
Julie looked for a place to sit that wasn’t covered with clutter. She finally decided to give up her search and settle for clearing off a stack of newspapers from one of the cushions on the couch.
“So, what are you here to tell me?”
“Well, I work for the ECWT, it’s a local foundation that promotes environmental causes.”
“Isn’t that great! Do you like the work there?”
“I guess. It’s kind of boring. I have to talk to a bunch of weird people all day long,” Julie mentioned, with the hope that this Blue Dress Lady would recognize herself as one of those weird people.
“Oh, well, that’s good for you kids. I think too many children of your generation spend too much time pent up in their houses or on their electronics, and they don’t get out enough to talk to other people. Talking really is a lost art, don’t you think?”
“I guess. Anyway, there are a lot of really important local environmental issues going on. We need the support of the community in order to preserve the nature we have. I have some information to give you.” Julie reached into her bag and pulled out a few pamphlets. “This first one outlines some of the basic local environmental concerns, and tells you what the ECWT does to combat these problems. This second one tells you how you can get involved helping us clean up the environment, and where to mail donations. This third one describes effective ways to contact your local representatives. And this final one tells you where this year’s candidates stand on a number of important environmental issues, and whom we suggest you vote for.”
Julie handed the pamphlets to the Blue Dress Lady, who laid them all down on the floor and held a prolonged smile on Julie.
“Can I help you with anything else?” Julie asked, hoping to get this woman to stop smiling at her.
“No, this is all very interesting. Sounds like good work experience for a young lady.”
“Right.”
“Do you have any plans for after the summer?”
“I’m going to college in the fall.”
“Are you worried about that?”
“No, not really,” Julie responded, now beginning to wonder how long this conversation would last.
“Will you be far away from home?”
“About four hours.”
“That far?” the Blue Dress Lady asked, seemingly engrossed in Julie’s life.
“That’s about average. I have friends who need to fly.”
“That would be too far for me when I was your age. Won’t you get homesick?”
“Not a chance. I can’t wait to get away from my mom,” Julie grinned.
“Don’t say that,” the Blue Dress Lady quickly shot back. “That’s a horrible thing to say. An absolutely horrible thing to say.”
“I was just kidding,” Julie apologized, but knew she wasn’t.
“You shouldn’t kid about that sort of thing.”
“I know,” Julie offered.
“You never know how long you’re going to have with your mother. The bond between a mother and a daughter is something sacred. No matter how many hurtful things are done, that bond is never broken. Remember that, please.”
“OK.”
“No. Not OK. This isn’t something you can just throw away. I tried it, and it didn’t work. I tried to forget it and bury it under pain and bitterness and it didn’t work.”
“I think I’ve got be getting to the next house now,” Julie said as she rose out of her seat.
“Sit, please, just a little while longer. I want to talk to you. I don’t get many visitors anymore and I want to talk to you.”
“Really, I’m supposed to be working.”
“My daughter and I got into a fight years ago. I can’t even remember what it was about anymore. That sounds cliché, doesn’t it? I suppose it is. I do still remember what the fight was about. We’re both so stubborn. What has being right gotten me? I haven’t even talked to my daughter in so many years. I haven’t seen my own granddaughter since she was six months old. Every few years my daughter would send me pictures of her. I don’t want pictures anymore. I’m an old lady. I’m not going to be here much longer. I’d give up all my pictures for just one visit with my granddaughter. You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. I’d trade everything I have if I could just be with my daughter again, and talk to my granddaughter. So please, no matter whose fault any of these problems you’re having are, tell your mother you’re sorry.”
“All right,” Julie said, willing to say anything just so she could get out of this house. “I’ve really got to be going now. I’m still at work, you know.”
“Would you like a glass of ice water before you go?”
As much as Julie wanted to leave this hot, dank house, she couldn’t resist a glass of ice water.
“Sure, thank you.”
The Blue Dress Lady got out of her chair, and walked slowly into the kitchen out of view. Julie heard a cabinet open, and then the sound of glasses clinking together. Julie stood up and made her way over to one of the Blue Dress Lady’s fish tanks. Julie had a sizable fifty-gallon tank at home. Her mother loved fish, as did she. That was, perhaps, the one thing they had in common. Once a year they would make a day-long project of emptying the tank and cleaning it out, rearranging the decorations, and then putting the fish back into a tank that they now didn’t recognize. The daily feeding and watching of the fish didn’t really excite Julie. She would relax by staring at the fish for long periods of time, but she really loved that one day when the tank was changed completely and set up in an entirely new way. Despite the tight budget that Julie and her mom kept, the fish were their one extravagance. Julie didn’t have a cell phone or a car and hadn’t gone away on vacation since a trip to Disneyland when she was nine. Christmases and birthdays were usually disappointments, but the tank was always stocked with fish and expensive decorations. They moved around a lot from house to house and sometimes some of the fish didn’t make it, but the tank would come along with the filter and the decorations, and they’d restock at the next pet shop in the next town.
She looked into the first of the Blue Dress Lady’s tanks, and saw the care and delicacy with which it was decorated. There were blue stones on the bottom, some fake plastic plants, a ceramic frog, and few big rocks sitting in the tank. She looked around at the fish and decided that this was the mean tank. There were a firemouths, an oscar, a jewelfish, two green terrors, and a large black convict. These were the kinds of fish that couldn’t be put in with run-of-the-mill goldfish. If they were, it wouldn’t take long before the goldfish’s fins were nipped to tatters, and the fish itself would be found floating at the top of the tank within a few days. These were Julie’s favorite fish. She didn’t like them so much because they were mean, but because of their beauty despite the harsh temperaments. The rich, dark green of the body contrasted with the blazing red of the firemouths’ faces and gills. The powerful form of the oscar, along with its forbiddance. The shimmering pink of the jewel fish. The almost-florescent blue spots on the green terrors, and the high-ridged fins that run along their backs. The deep black stripes running vertical along the gray of the black convict’s body. These fish were so deceptively lovely.
Julie moved on to the next tank as she heard ice rattling into an empty glass in the other room. This second tank was nicer, Julie decided, though not entirely innocent, and fully capable of having a field day with a feeder-fish. It was filled barbs: tiger barbs, T-barbs, rosy barbs, black rosy barbs, green tiger barbs. It also held a small pink convict, and a kind of catfish that Julie couldn’t quite remember the name of, but knew that it could be just as predatory as any of the other fish in the tank. These were the fish that her mother liked, and a careful balance always needed to be maintained in the tank at home. Julie agreed not to have an oscar, the most predatory of her favorite fish, and her mother agreed not to have any rosy barbs, the weakest of hers. Limiting the numbers of Julie’s fish and keeping a small school of barbs also helped, and the fish were able to coexist with limited fin nibbling and animosity.
As she heard the running water Julie moved on to the final tank. This was the nice tank, the show tank, the kind of tank that neither Julie nor her mother liked, though Julie imagined this was the Blue Dress Lady’s favorite. Three clown loaches swam along the bottom eating up bacteria and sunken food particles. A large angelfish glided majestically back and forth through the middle of the tank. A number of red and green swordtail fish, and a small school of ten tiny neon tetras, swam about. This was a nice looking tank, though not a particularly interesting one in Julie’s mind. This was the kind of tank you might find in a pediatrician’s office to brighten children’s spirits before and after they receive some horribly painful shot.
On the table behind this tank were dozens of photographs spread out and jumbled up together that caught Julie’s eye. She stared at the pictures of the young girl. From the other room she heard a glass shatter and ice cubes slide across the floor, and then a dull thud. Julie grabbed one of the photos and ran into the kitchen, and found the Blue Dress Lady lying on the yellow linoleum tiles with her eyes shut. Julie knelt down and shook the lady and got no response, and then stood and found the phone and dialed for help.
After waiting for hours in the emergency room waiting room where the broken fluorescent light was buzzing and flickering, Julie decided to see if there was anything she could find out. She went to the desk and asked if she could see the Blue Dress Lady.
“Only family is allowed in to see her.”
After her visit, Julie left the hospital still carrying the photo she’d taken from the Blue Dress Lady’s house. She didn’t go back to work, but just went straight home instead. Her mom still wasn’t back from work. She sat down in front the fish tank, and waited for her mom to arrive while looking the photo of the Blue Dress Lady and her mom, at someone’s dining room table, her mom appearing just a few years older than Julie was now.
BIO: John Power was born and raised in and around New York City, graduated from Washington and Lee University in Lexington, Virginia, lived for a year in Warsaw, Poland, and currently resides in Chicago. His stories have appeared in The New Chicagoan, NonBinary Review, The William & Mary Review, Barzakh Magazine, West Trade Review, Cleaning Up Glitter, and The Great Lakes Review, among others. His novel "Participation" is available on amazon.com.