Diary of an Ugly Duckling Langhorne, Karyn (reading rainbow books txt) 📖

AN UGLY DUCKLING

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other than fat, black and ugly when I look in the

mirror—”

“You still gonna be the same person on the in-

side,” Edith said, as if that weren’t obvious. “And if

you don’t like yourself now, you won’t like yourself

any better, just because you see something different

when you look in the mirror.”

“I like myself just fine,” Audra declared. “It’s a

matter of making the outside match the inside.”

“Audra . . .” Edith muttered. “Audra, Audra, Au-

dra . . .” she repeated, then folded her arms about

herself and stared at her daughter with an expres-

sion Audra was certain she’d never seen on the

woman’s face before. Amazement, fear, anger and

contempt seemed to have blended into a single arch

of eyebrows and pull of lips. Audra waited, staring

back at the woman, feeling she wouldn’t have been

surprised if her mother reached out an arm to hug

her or a palm to slap her face. But in the end, she did

neither: just kept staring at her with that strange

look frozen on her face.

“There are also some amazing prizes offered to

the contestant with the biggest transformation.”

Shamiyah interjected. “A modeling contract, cash, a

part in a movie—just a walk-on part, but still.” She

grinned so wide Audra could have counted all her

teeth. “It could lead to all kinds of opportunities.”

“A modeling contract,” repeated Edith, her eyes

still fixed on Audra’s face, her lips in a tight line. The

eyes seemed to say, “don’t do this,” but the lips car-

ried a different message, one of determined distrust.

“Is that what you want?” her mother asked at last.

“You wanna be a model? A movie star?”

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Audra shook her head. “I just want to look like

Petra . . . and you,” she said quietly, speaking to the

woman’s eyes, trying hard to ignore the judgment

in the rest of the face. “I just want to fit in . . .”

Edith lowered her eyes, then turned away entirely.

The camera crew might have picked up her expres-

sion, but Audra got nothing, nothing but a bit of her

shoulder. Edith sighed and that shoulder lifted

nearly to her earlobe. Audra waited, feeling the

weight of the air between them. Would she finally

admit it now—now, to stop Audra from going to

California, to stop her from erasing her skin tone as

an Ugly Duckling?

Audra held her breath, feeling a confession swir-

ling between them, the explanation for the words

she’d overheard all those years ago: She ain’t

mine . . . She ain’t mine. She glanced at Shamiyah: the

woman was following the scene between them with

such intensity, she looked like all she needed was

some popcorn.

When Edith spoke there was a sadness in her

voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Fine. Do it,” she said tersely. “It’s your body,

your skin, your life. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be

better off.”

Audra stared at her, her heart sinking deep in her

chest with disappointment. Clearly, her mother in-

tended to take her secrets to the grave.

“She’ll be in California for the surgery from the

end of June through September,” Shamiyah said

when the silence became loud and unbearable.

“You—the whole family—are invited to the Reveal

at the end of the process. We’re already working

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

145

with the Army to get permission for your other

daughter and son-in-law to join us and I’m opti-

mistic. But that’s just the taping. You won’t see the

episode on TV until the end of November. If Audra

gets enough audience votes, she comes back to do a

special show with the other top three Ugly Duck-

lings,” she continued, grinning again as if the

power of her smile alone could diffuse the tension in

the air. “That’s a real cool show. The UDs—the Ugly

Ducks—will get a crash course in modeling and take

a screen test. We’re going to be using this really cool

interactive tool to let people vote online and use cell

phones to crown a winner that very night—”

“So you’re gonna be gone.”

Audra shrugged. “Three months. I only go back if

the audience votes for me—”

“They will,” Edith muttered. “You got a black

woman turning herself into a white woman? They

will . . . just so they can keep talking about you.”

Audra opened her mouth to object, but her

mother changed topics before she could speak.

“And just what are you gonna tell Kiana about

this?” she said at last. “She looks up to you. She

thinks you’re the strongest, most wonderful person

in the world—and she always has.” Edith studied

the floor as though the effort of paying Audra this

compliment had cost her something. “I sometimes

think she loves you more than she does her own

mother. Or me.” The woman’s smoky eyes pinned

Audra’s in query. “How do I tell her that her beloved

Auntie A is actually a shallow, superficial mess?”

The words stung, but Audra did her best not to let

her hurt show. “You give with one hand and take

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with another, Ma,” she said, as a wry smile lifted

her lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, don’t tell her anything,” Audra

replied. “I’ll tell her myself. In my own way, in my

own time. Probably the next time we read The Ugly

Duckling.” And she leveled her most penetrating

gaze on her mother again. “Anything else?”

Edith gathered herself up like an affronted

Queen. “Else? What else is there? You made up your

mind. Me and Kiana will get by those three months

somehow.” She turned, head up, lips turned down,

and marched toward the doorway, batting at the sur-

rounding cameras. “Get away from me, now. I’ve said

all I’m gonna say about it, so you can turn those

things off.”

“You realize we may end up showing some of this

on television, Mrs. Marks—” Shamiyah began.

“Yes, I realize that,” Edith snapped. “But I ain’t the

one who’s done something she ought to be ashamed

of,” and she swept herself from the room.

Chapter 12

June 5

When I get back—if I come back—I’m moving out. I

know I’ve said it before, but this time, I mean it. Even if

I have to move to one of those tough-girl neighbor-

hoods where you need a switchblade to go out for

your morning newspaper. Or maybe I’ll