by April Trice

Created on: November 19, 2008

My mother is an honest and God-fearing woman. At the age of two weeks, she wagged her finger in my face and sternly informed me that, "Honesty is the best policy. Tell the truth and nobody gets hurt." When she wasn't reminded me of this fact, she was sure I was lying.

So, being armed with this sound and solid advice, I set forth into the world to tell the whole truth, nothing BUT the truth, the truth, I tell you..so help me GAWD. Imagine my shock at the reaction of my 1st Grade teacher when I kindly looked up at her during snack-time, opened my mouth and said, "I think it's just great that you're a woman of ill-repute. I'm just sorry you don't have the good sense to come in out of the rain."

Now, I had been speaking the bona fide truth and it became clearly evident that SOMEONE was about to be hurt. Things just weren't adding up. Tell the truth and NOBODY gets hurt. I was thoroughly and most assuredly confused. I loved Ms. Sparks! I would never say anything to upset her! I was merely sharing what my parents had discussed at the supper table just the night before. My Mother had told my Father, "You know that Ms. Sparks over at the Elementary School is a hus...you know...a woman of ill repute, all shacked up with some man over off of 7th Avenue. I'm not quite sure why they hired her, and you know she's from up there in the North, where the women wear slacks and smoke the cigarettes. I saw her down at the Piggly Wiggly last Tuesday and I tell you, she didn't look like she had sense to come out of the rain...all that rouge and whatnot. What kind of example is this for our children?"

When my Mother arrived to pick me up from school that day, Ms. Sparks walked me to the car. To tell you the truth, I felt she was squeezing my hand a bit too tightly. Not a snug I'm-so-glad-to-be-holding-your-hand squeeze...but a somethin-is-fixin-to-go-down squeeze. I slid into the backseat of our Chevrolet Impala, careful not to make eye-contact with Mother, who was already rolling down the passenger side window to thank Ms. Sparks for safely delivering her precious daughter in one piece. Mother raised her eyebrows, sending the Universal unspoken message of, "Yes? Need anything?"

Ms. Sparks slowly slid her hand into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a pack of unfiltered Lucky Strikes. She tapped the bottom of the pack, pushing one solitary cigarette up into her mouth. I was mesmerized. I sat up a little straighter in my seat. She took a long drag, held it for about three seconds

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