Hero Socks

V-Day, State Capitol, Flash Mob

I am seven. I have my special socks on. On the stretchy front of them is a Superman shield, gold diamond with the first letter of my name in red in the middle. People will notice me as I walk toward them. I will not fold under into nighttime prayer or Daddy’s hidden things under the bed. My grandfather holds my hand instead. Everything is calm tonight as we walk through bright blue sky into this bookstore. In the front room there is an L shape of metal chairs full of silent people. They are listening to a red headed woman wearing glasses. She is reading to them from an iPad which is funny because it isn’t a book. I don’t know what she is reading. But I look at her quickly as we walk past the little stage where she stands. I count the three wooden steps up to her microphone. She stops reading sometimes to answer questions and moves her hands with their palms up like they are flying softly. Like the kind of prayer I would make when no one was watching. She looks like I might look when I am old. She wears a yellow shirt like a large silk scarf with black designs that pillows over her breasts and tummy. She isn’t skinny like me but people seem to like what she is saying. She isn’t magazine pretty either but she must be important because these people are here to hear her.