What Does Perfection Have to do With It?

"I feel like a politician," Ricardo quietly whispered.

"Well, you certainly know how to act like one." Mikaella quickly responded.

"What do you mean?"

"You know how politicians are, they're always looking out for Number One; keeping themselves happy and satisfied at the expense of others. But don't worry, I won't be the one to divulge your secret. At least not yet," Mikaella quietly said.

"Stop flexing your eyebrows, it doesn't become you."
"Are you feeling okay?"

Mikaella looked into his smokey gray eyes, "Of course, I'm fine."

Ricardo smiled, "Everything went perfectly didn't it?"

"Yes, just perfect."

After the welcoming reception, Ricardo strutted around like a rooster, proud and ready to move ahead with the honeymoon. His dark hair and beard were neatly trimmed. His 6'4", 250-pound solid stature was finely dressed in his formal penguin suit of black and white, adorned with a red rose boutonniere, while his new black clown shoes only highlighted his massive 13 size shoe.

Mikaella looked ravishing he thought, in her long white gown, covered in lace and hand sewn pearls. As Ricardo examined her taffeta dress closely in his mind, his excitement for what laid ahead for him, brought sweat to his palms. Her dress was strapless with just enough cleavage to bring his eyes down to the plump peaches, while the a-line silhouette left very little to his imagination. In his mind, he knew the shape of her every curve, and hopefully within a few hours, his fingers and mouth would intimately know them as well.

Seated at the head of the long table, Ricardo and Mikaella, dressed in their treasured clothes, were laughing as if everything was perfect. The Best Man Juan, and the Maid of Honor Nicole, each reminisced about old times, and revealed the love they knew the newly married couple shared, as they toasted and wished them a life filled with love, music, and dance.

Round tables, each seating six guests, were dressed in white linen tablecloths, and accessorized with vases of red roses intertwined with ivy and baby=s breath, as soothing classical music floated softly through the air. Everyone dined on prime rib, roasted chicken, and fresh salmon, while spirited conversation mingled around the wedding table, and the populated room effortlessly.

It appeared that time moved quickly, and Ricardo and Mikaella strolled hand-in-hand over to the four-tier white wedding cake, decorated with green ivy and red roses, where the photographer anxiously awaited to finish up his contract.

"How about some shots of the wedding party around the cake, and then we'll take some pictures of just the bride and groom," the photographer said. "Oh these are great. Could I have a shot of the Maid of Honor with the Groom? Great, now let's get one with the Best Man and the Bride. We're almost finished; all we need are a few shots of the perfect Bride and Groom getting ready to cut the cake."

Ricardo gently placed his hulking hand over Mikaella's slender fingers, and together the cut was made, while echoes of clapping, rose through the room as they placed the piece of cake upon the glass plate.

"Okay now, let's don't get too excited yet; we need a picture of the perfect couple, as you each feed one another the first bite of cake," the photographer said.
Ricardo and Mikaella stood there smiling at each other. The perfect couple, Mikella thought, Yea, right.

"On the count of three," the photographer said. "One, Two, Three."

Mikaella dipped her petite fingers in the soft texture of red rose and green ivy, smearing it all over Ricardo's face, dropping the glass plate, and leaving behind imperfect shattered pieces of glass and cake. Before he could respond, Mikaella flew out of the room, her white train following her like a descended cloud.

Stunned, Ricardo stood there, his shadowed face smeared with smashed rose and ivy frosting. He fiercely looked over at Nicole who just stood there smiling, holding her bouquet of white carnations and one single red rose.

Ricardo took flight, and the black and white penguin suit transformed into the movements of a large black crow, as he left to find Mikaella.

His first instinct was to look for her inside the aged church. Here, Ricardo found Mikaella pacing back and forth like a mare in her stall, awaiting an oncoming storm that she wished she could run from.

"Mikaella, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? Everything, that's what's wrong."

"I don't understand. The minister was perfect, the flowers were perfect, the food, band, everything, perfect."

"Yes, everything is just perfect. Everyone looks just perfect. Juan and the ushers looked perfect. Nicole and the bridesmaids looked perfect. Nichole did look perfect didn't she?"

"Yes. Of course she did. Nichole always looks perfect."

"You know, maybe you're right. Everything is perfect. I'm just nervous. I've been waiting for a long time to finally be with you. So, I'm just nervous. Right?"

"Yes. You're just nervous because we haven't really seen and been with each other. But it's okay. It'll be perfect, I promise."

"You promise. Like the promises you just made to me?"

"Yes, of course. Just like the promises I made to you here, in this church."

"Perfect. Nichole has the perfect shape doesn't she? Her breasts are like cantaloupes, and her waist is much smaller than mine. Do you think so?"

"Yes. Her breasts do appear larger than yours; however, I do like yours. To me they're perfect."

"I think my breasts are more like peaches. What do you think?"

"Yes, peaches. But peaches are good too."

"Peaches are good too, that's interesting. Do you like peaches or cantaloupes better?"

"Well, I like them both. But you have the peaches."

"Yes, I have the peaches and Nichole has the cantaloupes. That's just perfect."

"Well, I don't know if it's perfect, but I do know that I enjoy peaches, and it will be perfect."

"How can you say it's going to be perfect?"

"Because I love you, and I know you're just nervous."

"Yes. You're right, I'm nervous. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. I mean, what if it's not perfect? What if it's imperfect? Can imperfect suffice if it can't be perfect?"

"What?"

"Do you know what I noticed today? What I noticed today was just how imperfect, perfect can be."

"Okay Mikaella, now you're starting to confuse me."

"You said the flowers were perfect."

"Yes, the flowers were perfect."

"However, not all the flowers were perfect."

"Which flowers weren’t perfect sweetheart?"

"Which flowers? Did you notice Nichole's flowers? Perfect Nichole, with her perfect cantaloupe breasts and tiny waist, did not have perfect flowers."

"No, I really didn’t notice Nichole's flowers. What was wrong with them?"

Mikaella turned and looked at Ricardo, "Her bouquet, had a single red rose in the middle of her white carnations and ivy. One single red rose, Ricardo. One Perfect single red rose. Where did the red rose come from? It shouldn’t have been there. It made her bouquet not perfect. Nichole is not perfect is she Ricardo?"

Ricardo's solid defensive frame diminished into the size of a kicker, he stared down at the floor that was still lined in white linen from their wedding march. "Nichole is not perfect anymore," he quietly said.

"I didn’t think she was, and in a few hours I won't be either. Then what happens, Ricardo?"

Ricardo stood there silent, wondering if there would be a wedding night.

"I’ll tell you what happens, that's when perfect becomes imperfect."

image at: www.ulcwm.com/id120.html

Compare, Contrast and my Vision

In Dorothy Parker’s story “Here We Are,” the time period was set in the 1940's. Parker uses various bits of mundane conversation to camouflage the bride’s nervous anxiety of her wedding night. The brides various phrasing of how people do it every day like it was nothing; the groom not noticing one of the bridesmaid’s; yet, paying close attention to another; the bride contemplating about writing thank-you cards on her wedding night, and then her attempt to start an argument over her two hats.

In my version, I attempted to update the scenario and the language to the current time period. I also asked the readers to stretch their imagination, but only to try to keep it uniform with Parker’s story – the bride is still a virgin.

One change I made was in regards to the bride’s attitude about consummating her marriage. She is nervous; however, her tension is not brought on by the thoughts of being with her new husband, but instead, her suspicion that he had been having a sexual relationship with her best friend and Maid of Honor, Nicole. Here is where my spin of symbolism begins.

Let’s begin with the remark about Ricardo feeling like a politician. While there may be honest politicians in our society, they are usually not viewed that way. This is the first subtle hint that Mikaella has her suspensions. I also frequently used the word perfect. Clearly, from the beginning, there is nothing perfect about this scenario. To solidify this point more, I inserted the word imperfect, when Mikaella drops the glass plate, “leaving behind imperfect broken pieces of glass and cake.”

In the scene where Ricardo’s penguin suit transforms into the movements of a black crow, this signifies a transformation of Ricardo attempting to regain what he fears he lost. The penguin transfigures into the crow, a massive bird, with its social and protective nature, which like the penguin, also, usually mates for life. The other interesting attribute that both Ricardo and the crow share, is the “trickster” trait. In folklore the crow is also known as a “trickster,” and by the end of the story, the reader has discovered that Ricardo has employed trickery within his two relationships with Nichole and Mikaella. He wants to keep the relationship with Nichole, so he gives her a red rose; and since he doesn’t want to lose Mikaella, he forges on with the wedding ceremony.

Finally there is the symbolism of the single red rose; which is known as a sign of undying love and devotion.

In comparison, both Parker’s and my version have the underlying tension of the unknown future; however, there is a sixty-year time difference between the two stories. While I followed Parker’s lead using the wedding night ritual as an unknown experience, I hope that through my visioning using subtle differences, the reader will be able to experience the difference in time, yet still be captivated by the characters.