BLANK RULES VI

Photo Credit: S. R. Karfelt




After lunch Jimmy West had chocolate milk dried in the corners of his mouth. When Carole looked at him, he squeezed spit out between his lips and let if fall in a long string, trying to reach the top of his desk with it. Carole ignored him and he sucked it back up loudly. “We have a special treat today,” Mrs. Kuzik said. “It’s too hot to go outside, but Mr. Hogue’s class loaned us a fan and the second Boxcar Children’s book, Surprise Island! Usually you don’t get to read this story until you’re in Second Grade. So this is a special treat, and we’re going to read two chapters today. Put your head on your desk, and I’ll plug in the fan.”With the rest of the class, Carole put her head on her desk. The windows were open, and the scorching sun had moved up and over top the school. The fan felt good blowing the dusty desert air over her. She listened with all of her might, Benny and Violet weren’t living in the boxcar anymore, they had a family where they belonged now. She could see the story inside her head, like a nice dream.

            Jimmy West poked his bandaged arm against her elbow. Carole kept her eyes closed and turned her head away, towards the freckled girl, not caring to see what Jimmy was doing with his spittle. He poked again, more insistently. Carole focused on the tale Mrs. Kuzik painted with her words, but the poking pulled her away. Finally she turned her head in his direction, opening an eye to Jimmy’s idiotic grin, his head motioning for her to look under his desk. Carole lifted her elbow and peeked down, expecting to see he’d stolen Mia’s jump rope or learned to pick his nose with his other hand. It was much worse. Jimmy’s pants were unzipped, and he held his little boy part in his hand waving it to and fro, like an old boneless finger. The voices in Carole’s head protested. Disgust and anger shot through her and something new rose up from deep inside. This she would not allow.             In one smooth movement Carole’s head lifted off her desk, her hand slid into Sarah’s desk and found the girl’s wooden ruler. In two seconds she’d whipped it out and slapped it across Jimmy West’s dancing part with all of her might. It made a slapping sound that echoed through the room, the ruler broke in half and a piece flew off. Jimmy screamed. His chair toppled over and he just lay there continuing to scream. Mrs. Kuzik hurried across the room, the Boxcar Children book still in her hand. It took her almost eleven seconds. The voices in Carole’s head were shouting about broken laws and retribution, she’d disobeyed and the black dreams descended.
            “Girl, I’ve never had anyone thrown out of school in First Grade before. Did you break his finger on purpose too?” Marsha’s brown eyes were clear and deep, like a root beer bottle glinting in the sunshine. “It doesn’t matter to the Thatchers either way. They don’t put up with any sort of trouble. I just need to know, so I can pick your next place.”            “Yes,” Carole whispered. The voices didn’t like that she told Marsha, even if it was true. Never tell what you can do! They will destroy you! Black dreams rolled through her head making sure she understood. She had to squint to see past them. “I shouldn’t have hit him so hard.”            “You shouldn’t have hit him at all! You’re not going to be able to go to school at El Vista anymore. That’s not the kind of thing a boy will forget.”Marsha put her straw handbag on her desk and pointed at a chair beside it. She didn’t have an office like the other social workers. She had an old green metal desk sitting in the hall near the bathroom. Carole sat in the chair, and Marsha nodded at a man walking past and called him Sir. He said hello to Marsha in the same type of pretend friendly voice that the Thatchers used to talk to their foster children. In the green chair, Carole wrapped her arms around her legs. Goose bumps made little hairs stick up on her arms and legs. Duke would have nobody to run the desert with. The edges of her heart burned a bit. She would have nobody to run the desert with. Duke had Earl."Your teacher was having you moved to sixth grade next year anyway. She got hold of the Orphanage and managed to get your age straightened out too, you’re officially ten. Your birthday is Christmas day. Sister Mary Josephine said that is the birthday for all orphans who don’t have their own. Don’t fret Miss Carole, I’ll find you a new place. Just don’t be beatin’ on boys, okay?”

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Copyright 2013, S. R. Karfelt
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