Wednesday, January 22, 2025

The Silver Hairbrush

 I am a silver hairbrush, passed down since the Roaring Twenties thru the Franco family. I was lagniappe when Sam Franco and his new wife, Zoe, ordered the latest and greatest concoction at notorious speakeasy, The Cotton Club, where Sam and Zoe were frequent patrons. The drink was named The Silver Hairbrush. All the ladies were presented a sterling silver hairbrush with their drink. I was Zoe's lagniappe. This is my story.

I led an interesting life, belonging to Zoe. I know a lot of sorted details about the Francos. If only hairbrushes could talk....

What kinds of things, might you ask. Things like Zoe came from money and status; Sam not so much. Things like Zoe was a lot of the creativity behind Sam, only he got all of the credit. I never did understand why he didn't want any of the light shining on her. After all, he chose her. Zoe's family turned on her over Sam. That rift was never repaired.

My time with Zoe ended shortly before she died in a mysterious sanitarium fire in the North Carolina mountains. A lot of other people died then, too....almost all of them were women, who were there in large part because they hadn't adhered properly to societal norms of the time. It sure helped Sam out that she was imprisoned there; great way to keep her quiet.

It seemed to me as though Zoe knew that her time was soon at hand, as she gave me to her daughter, Samantha, one sunny afternoon when she had visited with Sam. It was the last time that I was Zoe's hairbrush. I now belonged to Samantha. Samantha left me in a dark drawer for the longest time after Zoe's death, but the day finally came when she took me out, and began to brush her silken hair with me. She never had me out when anyone else was around, and she would never really discuss Zoe or Sam with anyone. Strangely enough, no one dared ask her too much about her parents. Decades later, she was finally convinced to make a concise statement about them, but she really didn't divulge anything of import. Zoe, Sam, and Samantha's secrets would remain with me, the silver hairbrush.

The Cemetery Stalker

It   was a hot summer afternoon; the first day of September. Ellie gathered some fresh red roses and white jasmine blooms from her yard, and...