Fluorescent Adolescent

Fluorescent Adolescent

 Krysta Walker 

Down at the playground, there was this awful seven year old named Mavis. Mavis had this hobby, a dear past time of hers that entailed kicking me around the jungle gym. I remember this one time, Mavis kicked me so hard, it sent me right up the big kids slide and I couldn’t come down until Ms. Turner wobbled into the yard and got me down herself. Through all the tears and snot that seemed to be oozing from my face, I caught a glimpse of old Mavis slumped in a corner laughing till water squeezed from her squinty little eyes.

Anyway, it was around Christmas time and Mavis was in fine form. I had bruises all over my shins and things and my head was sore from where she had tried to yank one of my long red braids right off my scalp.

I was busy in my playroom at home, the snow was falling outside my window like dollops of sour cream. I was reenacting Mavis’ most recent act of terrorism with my Barbie dolls.

 Barbie marched right up to itty bitty Kelly and smacked Kelly’s lunch right out of her little doll hands. Kelly smiled blankly down at the spilled goods while Barbie scooted off to a corner to laugh and snort and live happily ever after. I opened the window and stuck Barbie in the snow, forcing her to deal with her issues.

My brother, Scott, was standing out in the blizzard, stupidly trying to light a cigarette, and the noise from the window nearly made him drop the match.

“Christ, Brenda don’t go sticking your dolls in the snow when I’m out here! Cheese and crackers I thought you was momma.” He was shaking so bad that this time he actually did drop the match along with the cigarette in the snow.

“She needs to learn a lesson! Barbie needs to learn it’s not okay to drop Kelly’s lunch, or kick her shins, or poke her with pencils, or yank her pigtails.” I rubbed my head.

He looked up at me sympathetically. “Mavis giving you trouble at school again?” I nodded.

“Well listen, Bren. Mavis is a bad kid. And you know how Santa feels about bad kids, right? So just you wait ‘til Christmas day. You’ll be wakin’ up with all kinds of goodies and all ol’ Mavis’ll find in her lumpy stocking is a big brick of coal!” I smiled. Then I sneezed, and Scott bustled me back into my room since I was letting all the heat out.

The next few weeks, when I went to school and took my beatings from Mavis, I did it with a Kelly smile on my face, picturing Mavis’ piggy face all screwed up with tears when she finds out that all her gift is good for is smoking on the fire.

Mavis took no mind, and even came up with some of her greatest tricks that winter. I was smiling when I found my books frozen under the ice in the little pond behind the school. I chuckled a little when I saw a frog hopping and twitching in my sack lunch. I even managed a feeble “Oh, Mavis,” when her oversized feet landing on my little fingers had caused me to double over in pain.

I had that smile super glued to my face all the way until when they let us out for a week before Christmas. I had the time of my life that break, playing with Scott in the snow. Getting money in the mail from my grandparents. And on Christmas day, when I saw that shiny red Radio Flyer tricycle, all I could think of was the fact that, at that exact moment, Mavis was unwrapping her coal.

Imagine how heartbroken I was when, upon my return to class, I found Mavis sporting a brand new bright pink fleece coat and shiny red boots.

“Look what Santa brought me, everyone! Look what Santa brought me!”

I was betrayed. I had trusted Santa. This man whose mantra was “be good for goodness sake”!

For goodness sake.

With a peculiar animal cry that was quite muted on account of my scarf being wrapped tightly around my mouth, I launched myself onto Mavis and began raining on her head with punches and slaps. I freed my mouth and fastened it on her cheek.

It was quite a spectacle.

When the principle asked me why I punched and bit Mavis and what did she do to me, I growled through clenched teeth; Ask Santa.

And that was my first school suspension.