Back Feast Your Eyes
Chapters (16)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Introduction
  4. CATALOGUE OF THE EXHIBITION
  5. Greenwich Village, 1953–54
  6. Lower East Side, 1954–56
  7. Brooklyn Heights, 1956–1961
  8. Park Slope, 1961–63
  9. “The Samantha Series”
  10. Park Slope, 1963–70
  11. Cleveland, 1970–76
  12. The Last Self-Portraits
  13. Acknowledgments
  14. Reading Group Guide
  15. About the Author
  16. Copyright

Lillian was very grave that day. I think this was an expression of her fear. I understood immediately why there could not be a second child. You will stay here, I told her, and she began to cry. In the many years of our friendship, I saw Lillian’s tears only twice. This time was the first.

The next morning Lillian and I left the girls with a kind neighbor while I borrowed a car from a friend. To pack their things needed most of the day, but we finished before Kenneth returned from work. Kenneth called many times after that. Once he came to the door. I could sense that something was breaking inside him each time he asked to speak to Samantha and Samantha refused. Kenneth thought that Lillian was keeping her from him, but really Lillian was trying very hard to change Samantha’s mind. I was watching on the morning Lillian told the truth to Samantha about Kenneth. I saw all the anger inside her. At first that anger turned to Lillian, but then Samantha struck her head on the table. When you need comfort and you are angry at the only person who can comfort you, what can you do? Samantha needed her mother. So I think her heart made a decision.

Kaja and I were living in a one-bedroom parlor flat with tall ceilings. This let us stack Lillian’s materials very high. Lillian and I made a line with tape on the floor, and also a rule: no little girls on the box side of the line. It was too dangerous, not just for the girls but also for Lillian’s negatives and prints! As for Lillian’s camera, I knew she would not feel at home unless it was unpacked. When we set it on its tripod, her face relaxed a little.

I asked among the women where I worked. The first phone number Lillian tried was no good, and I think also the second, but she located an appointment with the third for the end of that week. It was bad timing, but concerning this there is only bad timing. I knew of a woman who did not see someone until she was pregnant for sixteen weeks; after some very frightening things, she entered the hospital, where a doctor removed her uterus. Even if an abortion was performed much sooner, there were many risks. If the hospital became involved, the police would come. The policeman would interrogate you in your hospital bed, and he would demand names. Sometimes in the newspaper there were articles. A mother arrested for finding help for her daughter. A doctor suspended for assisting a young girl. If an heiress or a fashion designer died from an abortion, the newspapers would report this, but not an ordinary woman. Such a plain death was not interesting or important.