These Dreams of You

~ ~ ~

Once the preconceptions of meek Dickensian orphanhood have been laid to rest, Zan realizes that Sheba is the single most defiant child he’s known. If need be, she’ll abdicate the role of child altogether in order to assume authority; she self-administers time-outs when the parents don’t.

“I’M HUNGRY, YOUNG MAN!” she bellows at her father when she wants something to eat. She calls Viv “young lady” and Parker “baby,” which incites the boy into answering, “You’re the baby, you’re the baby!” Eventually Sheba expands defiance’s repertoire, the tenor of insult becoming more nuanced until finally, some months later in London when she, Parker and Zan wait to board a double-decker bus, she snarls to the father, “Out of my way, old man.” Drawing her finger across her throat at him, she stuffs her thumb back in her mouth like Churchill corking his face with a cigar. “I’m a professional!” is her latest rallying cry and coup de grâce, learned from her brother or television and employed to end any contentious conversation. “Eat your carrots, Sheba,” says Viv.

“Leave me alone!” says Sheba. “I’m a professional!”

“Clean up your room.”

“I don’t need you telling me, I’m a professional!” When she becomes a teenager, Zan grimly resolves, I’m faking my death. A particularly boisterous and pyrotechnic plane crash off the coast of Tahiti, or a naked walk into a ravenous sea.