The Confessional
Part V (final)

Arrrghh! What happened to Winnie Jewell? Alice, you can't leave me hanging like this. I need to know why she became the woman Alice and Melva described. I wasn't permitted to remain in this reverie though, because both women suddenly chimed Joe Dyerle's chant in unison and started chuckling.
        
        "Children should have empty heads so ……..
life can stomp 'um like cana'lopes."

        "He always was a rascally boy."

        "Yes Alice, but the best lookin' one in the entire Intermediate Department. Too bad about him gettin the polio."

Oh please stop, I prayed.    I can't take yet another character. Winnie Jewell is quite enough for the moment.   Besides, I am getting a terrible cramp in my thighs, and my feet are going to sleep.

        "Wonder why she was such a crabapple and why she never married.? Well, I gotta go to the ladies. Think I'll just get this lilac blouse."

        "I'm about ready for lunch. How does Morrison's Cafeteria sound?"
        
God must have been listening to my prayer.   A shudder went through me as I visualized the picture He might be looking down on. Me, half clothed, kneeling, though not penitently, in this little stall, greedily taking down a private conversation.   

        "Good. Today's liver an' onions. You gonna get that coral dress?"

        "What? I've no need for new clothes at my time of life."

        "Then why'd you ask me out shopping, Melva Morene?"

        "Why for the sparkling conversation. You know Hank never was very chatty and since the stroke he doesn't say much of anything these days."

I heard their door click and the padding of their soft-soled shoes. I prayed they wouldn't see my pen on the floor outside the door. Horrified, I watched as the toe of a tan orthopedic shoe nudged my errant Bic back under the door of my stall. I shrank back to the far wall, praying there would not be knock or comment. The tan shoes moved on.

Gasping for breath and stomping the tingles out of my feet and lower legs, I sorted through my notes, added bits of what I remembered but didn't have time to write. Hoping I got enough down to tickle my memory so I could fill in details later.

        I'm not usually nosy.   I just couldn't help myself. I had the most peculiar feeling I was listening to my own future. I shouldn't have sneered at their quaint voices and regionalized personalities because they are what I will be in a little over a score of years. I guess what amazed me is that I truly had to fight the urge to follow them to Morrison's. I wanted to learn more about them and about the 'me' that I was to become.    Winnie Jewell and a parade of her acquaintances teased my imagination. Only Melva and Alice could satisfy my curiosity.

I needed closure.   There was nothing left for me to do but to concoct an explanation for Winnie's personality. It seems I'm not finished writing yet. Maybe, I'll never be. I dressed myself, half heartedly selected one of the outfits for purchase and left that "confessional" wondering what my penance should be.