Bald Spot
Amanda Leigh Davis led a hard childhood in the wilds of South Africa. At some point, Amanda tired of having to dodge bullets and rapists just to get her poor mother some medicine at the grocery store. This epiphanic moment convinced Amanda and her family to move to America. Upon landing on US soil, the bedraggled family tearfully stooped and kissed the home of the free. They were to settle in a place of culture, of acceptance, of orderly conduct—but got waylaid and settled for Albuquerque, New Mexico. Amanda quickly adapted to her new surroundings, and promptly began a career of concocting absurdly unbelievable stories.
My earliest memory takes place in a dark, dank basement. My mother was crocheting a pair of mittens for my new baby brother, and I wanted attention. The desire was so great that I decided to tie my mother's project into my hair: I would then be part of what she was working on, and I'd be pretty. I began winding the end of the yarn into my hair. The patterns were beatiful; I could feel the creative juices flowing through my veins. In fact, the project got so intricate that I found I could not extricate myself from it. My mother discovered the same thing when she gave a firm tug to bring up more yarn for Shane's mittens. She tried and tried to unwind the yarn from my full head of hair. When she left the room to get a pair of scissors, I panicked. I pulled yarn and hair alike with every ounce of my four-year-old strength . . . and heard the ripping noise. Here is where this memory ends.
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