Free By the Light of My Father's Smile by Alice Walker

woman’s elbow. She placed the card alongside her nose and closed her eyes, it seemed to Susannah, carefully. She rested a moment, deep in thought.
    Do you know why there is this concept of “ladies first”? asked Irene. It is because, in the early days, if we were permitted to walk behind the man, we would run away. If we were kept in front,they could keep an eye on us. Later on, as we became more tame, they hated to think a woman they desired would only think of running away, and so they invented chivalry. Gallantry. The lifting over puddles, the handing into carriages.
    Yes, said Susannah, but what does the card mean aside from that?
    There is a man inside you, your own inner man, so to speak, and he is dedicated to helping you. He is lifting you into the carriage of your own body, in which you can begin to take charge of your own life.
    Who could that be? thought Susannah. Not Petros?
    It is not someone of whom you would think, said Irene, as if overhearing her thoughts. Besides, it is an inner man. Part of yourself. But there is an outer man as well, who calls this inner helper forth.
    No kidding, said Susannah.
    No kidding, said Irene, mocking her.
    I see here, said Irene, holding a card of a woman riding the moon, that you have been far away. You have been lost, really. You have enjoyed being lost, in a way. Being lost means no one knows where to find you. If no one knows where to find you, then you are safe from expectations. In a word, free. That is what being lost sometimes means. But now, it is as if you are calling to yourself. Susannah, Susannah, come back; come home. Irene chuckled. And a little child-woman, far away, sitting I think in a large tree, hears the calling and thinks: Maybe it is time to go back.

    It was at this point that I could have kissed the dwarf! Instead all I could manage was a gust of wind that blew over the fan. Cards scattered every which way. Susannah exclaimed, What was that!And Irene shrugged, dragged on her cigarette, and said: The wind. Perhaps the wind is related to you.
    I watched my daughter trudge home to her husband’s family. Eat a quiet dinner with them. Her thoughtful eyes lingering on the faces of the old man and his wife. Her mother-in-law was not happy that she spent so much time with Irene. Knowing she visited the dwarf almost every day, she still asked not a single question about her. The old man was more curious. He’d heard rumors.
    Is it true she keeps a black cat? he asked Susannah, as she toyed with a last sliver of tomato on her plate.
    I haven’t seen one, actually, she said.
    And does she make a brew of bitter herbs that she tries to pass off as medicine?
    No, said Susannah, laughing. She makes and serves tea.
    And can she send her mind out traveling on the currents of the night vibrations?
    No, said Susannah, she has television by satellite. She also has a computer.

Wealth
    My father was wealthy, said Irene the next time they talked. Not as wealthy as Onassis. But wealthy enough to buy this church for me to serve and to live in.
    So you knew him, said Susannah.
    An island so small, said Irene, her cigarette dangling as she gutted a fish, of course I would know him, eventually. He was a large, mean, glowering man. I can only imagine what he thought when he saw I was a dwarf. As you can see, dwarves are not common in these parts. Nor are they common any longer anywhere.
    Oh, said Susannah, do you think that at one time there were more of you?
    We were a tribe, of course, said Irene. Like the Pygmies of Africa. Irene stopped scraping the sides of the fish to look dreamily into the distance. Of all the people on earth, I feel most close to Pygmies, and of course to Gypsies.
    Why to Gypsies? asked Susannah, beginning to eat a handful of pistachio nuts Irene had handed her.
    Their life is so opposite to mine, said Irene. They go everywhere. Anywhere. They are still a tribe. Every attempt to boxthem in has failed. I think they must love the