dead straw over her ears, the bangs nearly over her
eves. My immediate thought was she was anorexic.
Her wrists were slim and bony. I imagined that a
strong handshake could shatter them. Her cheeks were
sunken. The skin on her face was so taut it was
transparent. Once, she must have had a pretty face. I
decided. She had high cheekbones and a nearly
perfect nose, but when she glanced our way, she never
changed expression or in any way showed that she
saw us. She looked more like someone dazed, moving
in her sleep.
Both girls diverted their eyes to the floor and
moved so softly, I had the sense they were floating in,
gliding toward their bunks. They said nothing to each
other, did nothing to indicate they were aware of each
other.
Robin looked at me with quizzical eyes and
shrugged.
The girls, still ignoring us, began to take off
their coveralls and their ugly shoes, caked with mud.
They did everything with great care as if they were
performing a delicate lifesaving operation: folding
their coveralls neatly and placing them in the chests
beside their bunks, rolling their white stockings down
and then again taking great pains to fold them
perfectly as well and placing them in the trunks, all
the while moving like two people in a hypnotic state. Neither girl ware what we called diapers. They
had ordinary-looking panties and both had bras over
what looked to me like quite underdeveloped breasts.
How could two such fragile-looking girls have gotten