A Day in the Life of Me, Curley's Wife

November 1, 2016
By Ella.Suchora BRONZE, Wyckoff, New Jersey
Ella.Suchora BRONZE, Wyckoff, New Jersey
4 articles 0 photos 3 comments

I would like to say that my life was everything I had hoped it would be. I would like to say that my mother hadn’t hidden the letter from that producer. I would like to say that I was a huge star that was given any role that I wanted. I would like to say that I was able to come home from a long day of shooting my next hit film and eat dinner with my husband whom I love and adore. No, I can’t say any of this. I am nothing. I will never be known by the world. I will never be in any movies. I will never be loved. My life has reduced me to nothing more than a glorified trophy wife. I am nothing more than his wife. Curley. Curley’s wife, that’s what all the men that work the land of this hell call me. I’m just his. Curley is a rude little man. He is cruel and treats me poorly. He’s not even the slightest bit handsome. I’m replaceable. It’s obvious that the only reason he married me is for my looks. I don’t know what keeps me going. I suppose there is still a small spark of my dream that has not yet been extinguished by the clouds of helplessness that fill my mind. I suppose I could have it worse. I could have ended up married to a man with Curley’s personality but without his wealth. I could be ugly. Though I am not. I am beautiful. It is all that I have going for me and eventually, it will fade. So everyday, I take advantage of my voluptuous figure and doll-like face. I spend 45 minutes in the bathroom after I wake up. I apply layers of makeup, enhancing my flawless white skin making it look as perfect and shiny as the first snow of winter. The black mascara frames my eyes turning them from a hazy fog of blue to the blue of a clear cloudless Californian sky. To complete my face, I apply my favorite bright red lipstick. Then, I brush my hair repeatedly until the tangles disappear and the curls are perfect. I flip it over my shoulder watching it cascade down my back like the rushing waves of a waterfall. That is, of course, if waterfalls were a dark vivid brown. Next, is my outfit. My wardrobe consists of brightly colored dresses with low necklines. It’s not like I need the clothes or the makeup to be beautiful. I’m naturally beautiful. But now, I'm drop dead gorgeous. You may ask why I go through the hassle of lookin’ perfect everyday? It’s not for Curley. I can already tell that I will never love him. A mere two weeks of marriage and this is clear. No, it’s for the men at the ranch. What can I say, I like how they stare at me; their eyes wide and mouths open in little o’s. They grin and nudge each other as I walk by and I can feel them watching me as a walk, swishing my hips a little extra to see the desire grow in their eyes. It’s these little games I play, flirting with them and watching them respond in shock, that give me a sort of purpose on this ranch. These tedious and pointless games are the only things keeping me from going insane. Ain’t that an unfortunate existence. I sigh and glance into the bathroom mirror. “Perfect” I say to myself. Time for another boring, predictable day on this same old boring and predictable ranch. I go down to the workers rooms to find Curley. I lean against the door frame and jut out my hip. My presence always commands the men’s attention. After I feel their eyes on me I bite my lower lip and look up, coyly. “I’m lookin’ for Curley,” I state. For a moment the men are silent; most of them still lookin’ at my dress.
“He was in here a minute ago, but he went” says a man I don’t recognize. He sits next to a large man who is new as well. Unlike the man who answered me, he stares at my body with a shocked and wistful expression. I lean forwards, aware of how visible this dress makes my curves. “Oh. You’re the new fellas that just come, ain’t ya?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah” the man responds. I’m clearly getting nowhere with this one. He’s far too serious and, by the way he averts his eyes from my curves, too much of a goody-two shoes. I look around the room. I already know everyone and they too avert their eyes when I twist my body. My eyes land on a the new face that is attached to the new man. His dumbfounded expression is still clear and unrepressed. Perfect. I examine my bright red nails and smirk, “Sometimes Curley’s in here” I explain.
“Well he ain’t now,” states the serious man. I was right, interaction with this one is a total waste of time. I turn my attention to the large man. He is still staring at me attentively. His large brown eyes continue to move up and down my body with desire and lust. I smirk, “This will be fun,” I think. “If he ain’t, I guess I better look someplace else,” I say playfully. I turn on my heel and start to walk away moving my hips side to side.
“If I see him, I’ll pass the word you was lookin for him” the man calls. I turn my body and am about to reply when I see the large man. He is still lookin’ at me with the same intense attention! I smile without showing my perfect pearly white teeth, just poofing out my red lips, curving the edges slightly. “Nobody can’t blame a person for lookin’,” I say. The room is silent as I sashay out. I see Slim, one of my favorite people on the ranch. He always returns my flirtatious banter. “Hi, Slim”
“Hi, Good-lookin’.” Slim replies. I contain the giggle that bubbles up from my stomach. It’s not like my conversations with Slim mean anything. Though I’m not against the idea of cheating on Curley, I doubt it would happen. We don’t love each other and I’m almost positive that he cheats on me everytime he goes into town, with a prostitute no less. I’m also sure that if I was just another random worker's wife, that Slim would consider a relationship. Too bad Curley is the Boss’s son and would immediately fight then fire anyone that tried to steal his property (me). “I’m trying to find Curley, Slim.” I say in my perfected flirtatious, girly voice.
“Well, you ain’t trying’ very hard. I seen him goin’ in your house.” Slim tells me. What in the world would Culey be doing back at the house already. He must be upset about something. I sigh and flip my hair over my shoulders. “‘Bye, boys,” I say seductively before rushing off to see what my husband is angry about now.

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