Purple

Late afternoon. The café is crowded but that’s okay because I like to stand at a counter with wake-up coffee and watch the world from there. Looking around the room there’s the usual crowd of shoppers, mothers with their kids in tow having a naughty before-dinner sweet treat, an old guy or two reading the newspaper.

Over in a corner of the place are a group of four teenage girls chatting and laughing. I glance at them and look away, only to snap my eyes back a second later having seen something that only now registered: One of the girls has something very wrong with her mouth. Looking again, I suck in a fast breath because it is so much more than that — her entire lower face is deep purple and, hard as it is to comprehend, a large man’s jaw. A man’s prognathous purple jaw and lips on a teenage girl’s head. From the nose up everything is normal and quite pretty: Long hair, nice eyes, petite nose. It’s like she has two faces — one up, another down. Ashamed to be staring, I look away but cannot help glancing back to make sure I am seeing right. I am.

In contrast, what’s great about the scene is she and her friends are chattering and laughing away like teenagers do, caught up in their stories, secrets, romances, and intrigues. I saw this every day when I used to be a teacher: Girl cliques. Girl gangs, pals. Twittering like birds, full of life and energy. Obviously the girl is part of this group and obviously they have no problem dealing with her face.

The irony of this moment, this picture, is only after watching the girl and the group for long seconds do I finally realize sitting right next to her is one of the most beautiful girls I have seen in a long time. Until then I hadn’t once noticed her.