Mara White’s Touched is a book about appetite. Poor appetites and appetites that can't be satiated. The appetite of the belly and the appetite of the flesh. Those who hunger and will never be filled. The writing is voracious and ravenous and insatiable and once when we were doing a live reading in New York City, I begged Mara to do the chicken-and-waffles chapter. She did, and it was better than porn.
Chicken and waffles were how Junipera met Cheron Max, who as a young idealistic man he had spelled Xeron in honor of Malcom X.
Junipera sat by herself in a red padded booth with a glass of milk while she waited for her waffles. Fork on her right, knife on her left, syrup and Grace’s hot sauce in front of her like an arsenal. Cheron watched her from the stool where he sat at the counter reading the paper and drinking his afternoon coffee…
“Girl, I ain’t expecting you to share your supper. I just wanted some chatter. That and to watch you eat it, cause those eyes are as big as saucers and I could see them clear across the restaurant.”
June smiled her best smile that held just a hint of derangement. Her lips were wet from her watering mouth and she quickly took a sip of milk so as not to drool on her place setting. “It’s my first time,” she said.
Just then the waitress arrived and placed a steaming pile of golden brown crispiness nearly in June’s lap. She looked like she might cry and Cheron smiled at her assumption she could finish the masterpiece by herself. She grabbed her fork, ready to stab.
“Wait,” Cheron said. “Allow me the honor.” He grabbed the glass syrup pitcher that was warm and sticky. He poured a thick stream of it onto the crispy fried chicken where it slid down the sides, thinning from the heat and blossoming out onto the waffles. Then he grabbed the hot sauce and hit it on the bottom four times; each impact released a splash of spiciness onto the mountain before her.
June exhaled and dug into her food. Cheron watched for fifteen or so minutes as June polished off every last bite. Her expression was one of rapture and she unabashedly feasted while he watched every move. It reminded him of porn. But this was better because it contained real joy in it.
“Girl, what’s your name?” he asked her. Junipera was lovingly caressing the empty white plate with her pointer finger and then sucking off the trails of syrup and hot sauce with her finger fully submerged in her mouth.
Touched is a story that will devour you as you stuff your face with it.
Maybe only a month had passed of the girls being at New Dawn when Maude started feeding Junipera Jones. She told herself at first that she did it in order to keep the girl from stealing and getting too many demerits in their system, and maybe in the beginning that was the real reason. She brought in an extra Tupperware of ham hock and collard greens. June took one sniff and circled her like a hungry dejected dog. Maude felt so many complex things for the child that she covered her eyes and held a forkful out to her. June’s greedy mouth snatched it like lightning. She swallowed it whole without chewing.
That was Thursday, and on Friday Maude brought oxtail soup. June circled again like a shark until Maude went to the staff refrigerator and pulled out the extra portion she’d brought for the child. They both watched the deep brown liquid spin until it bubbled in the microwave. She put her finger to her lips as she passed it to her. June’s eyes were as wide as full moons. Tears had sprung to her own eyes when she’d handed the nourishment over to her.
Ten minutes later she came out of the girls’ restroom with an empty container and a deep look of sleepy contentment. Her satisfaction was somehow contagious and it made Maude feel good. So began weeks of secret cook and hungry patient. June sampled home-baked macaroni and cheese covered in golden bread crumbs, sautéed green beans in bacon grease, sweet potato pie and even curried goat when Maude was feeling especially adventurous. June seemed to become more and more attached to Maude with every meal; she shadowed her in the hallway and even trailed her to the locked exit when Maude would escape for an occasional cigarette break.
I can’t recommend Mara White’s banquet of a novel enough. You’ll not only touched, you’ll be digested.
He watched her closely as she bit into a pork chop. She’d picked it up with her fingers and in her graceful hand, the meat appeared as big as she was. Her thin red lips took an awfully big bite. When she chewed and swallowed, her eyes closed.
“Good?” he asked her.
It was a stupid question. The girl enjoyed food as if she were a starving beggar in a soup line. Her eyes were bright and glittery, and the grease shone up her lips; the smile she gave him was feline. But not like some domesticated house pet—no, it was the smile of the lioness in the zoo, satisfied yet so full of power it scared you… She inhaled the cornbread and pressed the crumbs with the tines of her fork; she even ate the garlic cloves and the pork skin that were used to flavor the greens. The girl could eat.
Cheron looked under the table.
“Did you drop something?” June asked. She stuck her head down too and peeped at Cheron across the dark expanse between them.
“I’m looking for your hollow leg, because I don’t know where you keep all that food, Miss June.” She laughed and Cheron felt relieved. She wasn’t uptight about it or ashamed in the least.