Stevens - The Heart and Mind of Frances Pauley

F iggrotten had been going up to her rocks for years. It was where she felt most herself. Sometimes she was out there until after dark and Christinia would come out on the back lawn and say the word dinner in a sour, disgusted voice and Figgrotten would climb down and go back inside. The fact was, she hated being inside. She felt like she couldnt breathe indoors. Especially at dinnertime, when she was made to take off her hat and wash her hands and eat in the stuffy kitchen.

Often, at dinner, shed ask questions that seemed to confuse her family. Things like I read that Margaret Mead used to just hang up the phone when she was done talking to people. She didnt even say goodbye. Just clunk, put the receiver down. Do you think that was because the people she studied didnt have telephones? Figgrotten really liked Margaret Mead, an anthropologist who had studied tribes of people living in the middle of nowhere without telephones or toilets. The thing that had drawn Figgrotten to her to begin with was a photograph shed found of Margaret Mead in the World Book Encyclopedia. She looked a bit strident, wore a cape and a hat, and carried a walking stick. At first Figgrotten even thought her face looked kind of manly. She stared at the picture for quite a while. Then she started reading about Margaret Meads life and found it super interesting.

Shed never even heard of anthropology before this, but once she did, she thought it might be something she might like to do when she grew up. Mostly because it involved a lot of outdoor work. One thing Figgrotten knew for sure was that if she had to work inside somewhere, shed probably suffocate. But the other thing that she liked about anthropology was that it involved observing people, and Figgrotten was a natural observer. She observed birds and trees and clouds and, once she stopped to think about it, she did lots of observing of people too. Her sister, of course, being one of those people. Not because she found Christinia all that interesting, but more because she was trying to figure out exactly what made her tick.

Figgrotten kept her bedroom windows open at night, and shed brought a lot of branches up there so that it felt kind of woodsy. Initially this exasperated her mother, but now her mom didnt go into her room as much. She told Figgrotten that she just couldnt take the mess. At first Figgrotten wasnt sure what to make of her victory, but soon she came around to it. Not having her mom come in there all the time and yell at her about all the leaves and sticks actually made life in the house calmer.

Due to the open windows, Figgrottens room would get super cold in the winter, which was how she liked it. She slept in her wool hat and socks, and sometimes, when it was really blowing in there, she wore her wool coat to bed. Shed bundle up and lie stiff as a board and breathe in the cold clear air. She loved it! Loved the way the air hit the back of her throat, startling her a little each time.

Back when Christinia was still talking to Figgrotten, Christinia would go into Figgrottens room and just about go berserk. Shed beat at the branches and get all crazy that the place was so untidy.

What is the matter with you? she once shrieked. Why cant you be normal? And why do you have that stupid name pinned to your door? Thats just so weird!

Christinia was referring to the name