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2023 Frankye Davis Mayes Prize

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Big Ugly

by Kelsie Doran

I. When I was young, and noon’s sun sat close in the living room, I would imagine where it was that I came from. Those hot afternoons, mouth parched, much too hot to move, I’d glimpse for gold, digging. Gleams of gilded edges from Shakespeare pages. There, that glimmer there, that exact mixture of sun and Shakespeare. Must be mine. II. Papa tells me there’s no need to know. My roots are his youth— snakes under church chairs, dogs born to bite, mouths to feed, mouths growing up to lose all their teeth. All those mouths whispering ‘bout Great Great Grandma Roxie being Jesse James’s drink of water, nights when he passed between Big Ugly and Hatfield McCoy territory. At birthday parties, or holidays, I’d eavesdrop on the adults’ table. Heard Papa say It was Hatfield, McCoy, and Pauley territory. But us Pauleys got erased, somehow. He guesses—maybe it was ‘cause of that shotgun wedding. The one, where the shotgun was actually put to use. Papa calls us rednecks, gang members, hillbillies. We are from stories of an uncle or a cousin who would kill 20 people when car deals, drug deals, or women went amiss. III. Mama tells me I came from her. Two weeks late, shy of arriving Earthside. But once I showed up, I came all in a rush. Whooshing out with tongue tied cackling cries. Unable to feed, to drink. IV. Big Ugly, West Virginia feels foreign—like a faraway country. Where even the language is lost on me. Papa spits out the words, Big Ugly, like tobacco, but they linger—switchgrass in his mouth. V. Mornings arrive without me sometimes. I rise into the bottom of a day, thirsty from the lap of night. 3 A.M. arrives like an old neighborhood dog, panting, licking my bedside window, charming moon to shine through, reaching               all the ice cubes in my water glass. I love seeing, knowing, where the light comes from. A direct line from glass to moon. Papa raised me to recognize ice water as a luxury. VI. I know Papa didn’t want us to watch our cousins go down the drain to chase whiskey bottles or slot ma

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