“You can always remember, Dolley Madison wore white, Emily Dickinson wore gray,” Helen said.
The three Bernies froze. “No,” I said, “I don’t know what Dolley Madison wore, but I’m pretty sure Emily Dickinson wore white, not gray.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes, yes, she’s the Belle of Amhurst!”
Helen smacked her head. “Oh, shoot, you’re right. I got it mixed up. Dolley Madison wore gray.”
“So I’m Emily Dickinson again?”
“Yes, you’re Emily Dickinson,” I said. “Helen, Emily; Emily, Helen.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” said Helen.
“Well, technically you’re not meeting me, since I’m really Bernie.”
“I’m not sure about that. . . No offense, but I don’t think I’d ever compliment Bernie on his shoes.” Helen looked at me and Bugsy and shrugged apologetically.
Emily looked at her feet. “All these clothes—I was wearing it all from the beginning.”
“Ew,” said Helen. “You’re gonna need new clothes.”
“Right. And I don’t know anything about clothes. Men’s or women’s. That’s where you come in.”
“Oh wow. Well that seems fun! I’ve never taught someone how to be a girl before!”
“Just remember,” Bugsy muttered, “the rain in Spain stays mainly on the plane.”
“In the plain, dingbat,” Emily said.
“She’s learning already!” Bugsy exclaimed.
Three heads swung in Helen’s direction. “I am NOT Dolley Madison!” Emily shouted.
“Yes you are!” Helen said, very excited and very insistent. “You’re Dolley Madison! White dress and all!”
“Dolley Madison wore a white dress?”
“And how do you know so much about Dolley Madison?”
“I’m Emily Dickinson!”
“No, you’re Dolley Madison,” Helen insisted.
Emily turned to me. “I’m not Dolley Madison, am I? That’s not something we’d get wrong, is it?”
Suddenly, Helen shouted, “Oh no! The White House is on fire!”
Emily let out an involuntary yelp. “The White House!”
“Oh, man, we got it wrong! She’s Dolley Madison!” Bugsy said.
There was a look of horror on Emily’s face. “I can’t be Dolley Madison! I’m Emily Dickinson! Dolley Madison’s boring! And married!”
“I guess you’ll just have to get used to being Dolley Madison,” I said.
“Hey, if I’m Dolley Madison, YOU’RE Dolley Madison, too!”
“I am NOT!”
“Helen, do you know anything interesting about her?”
Helen thought for a second. “I think she was a Quaker. . . Oh, and I think she had an affair with Aaron Burr.”
Bugsy turned to Em. “An affair with the vice president! That’s cool!”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Emily, disheartened. She was on the verge of tears.
“So is that why you came?" Helen asked. "For philosophical advice on heaving a twin?”
I looked at Bugsy, then at Helen. “As a matter of fact, no. The reason I came is… is I need practical advice on being a woman.”
Helen’s eyes popped out of her head. “You WHAT?”
I turned to Bugsy again. “Why is it that the one time I’m not joking around, she doesn’t take it as a joke? She was supposed to say, ‘Ha ha, no seriously, Bernie…’ But now she just think I’m crazy.”
“You WHAT?” she repeated.
“You know how I said there were two of me?”
“I do recall. That happened recently, yes?”
“Well, that’s not entirely accurate. There’s a third me, and she’s a girl. We call her Emily.”
Emily then emerged from hiding. Helen again but here hand over her mouth, and stared at Emily.
“I thought Helen was supposed to be unfazed by this,” Bugsy said.
“Oh my…” Helen’s eyes were wide open. “It is you. As a girl. But it’s also… she’s also… oh she looks so familiar. She’s…”
Bugsy, Emily, and I all looked at each other, grinning expectantly.
“She’s Dolley Madison!”
Subscribe to
Posts [Atom]