Naturally as a sixth grader with an aesthetic for the finer things in life, I had waited in line at the snack shack to buy nachos for $1.50, a $0.75 soda, and a half-priced maple bar donut that they had left over from breakfast earlier in the week with my remaining $0.25. With my spoils carefully balanced, I had walked over to my bench, the one in front of the library at the far west corner under the awning, the perfect shelter from the desert's noontime heat.
Enjoying the last of my lunch, I was already reviewing the research I had done the previous day on various breeds of horses. You see, I knew that horses were expensive, and more than likely never an option for my family, but I had the idea that if only I did enough research and compiled enough data on horses and how to care for them, thus establishing my competence and dedication, then I might have the faintest chance of my parents buying me one for Christmas. It was a chart of the various breeds jotted down on my notebook paper, describing their appearance and most desirable characteristics. The pinto I had rejected immediately for its wild appearance, for I wanted a sleek and elegant breed. The quarter horse I had thought too plain - I had never really liked the color brown - and probably out of my budget anyway. Instead, I had favored the palomino with its blond mane like mine. What a perfect pair we would be! How glorious to ride across a meadow, breeze in our faces, and our blonde hair flowing, united as one!
"What do you think you are doing?" snapped the harsh voice, jolting me back to reality. "Do you really think that you can just sit there so innocently?" It was Monique.
Simply put, Monique was one of the bullies on campus. Everyone in the sixth grade knew to steer clear of her and not to make trouble. She was about twice my size with her stocky build and long black braids, and in the few months that I had been at this new school, I had never really spoken to her before. I definitely also had never had any trouble with her, so I was a bit shocked that she had gone out of her way to hunt me down; more so, she seemed infuriated with me. What in the world had I done? That's when I realized that I could be in a lot of pain in a few short minutes, depending on how this conversation went. Thus, I decided to tread the path carefully.
"Hi, Monique!" I greet her with a smile, hoping that my cheerful greeting would melt her grumpiness. "What's up?"
"What's up?" she hissed. "As though you didn't know!"
I quickly realized that a little smile was not going to make this problem go away, and that she was not simply having a bad morning. She seemed to have a grievance with me.
"I'm afraid I don't," I simply replied, trying not to aggravate the situation. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, I see. You thought you could call me a b**** and get away with it!" she barked.
"What?" I asked in shock. Was that really what she thought? Well, that accusation simply wasn't logical, and I was rather offended that someone would think such a thing about me. I had said no such thing about anyone, ever.
"Nothing to say for yourself?" she retorted. "I don't take insults lightly. Perhaps I should teach you not to call me a b**** again," she threatened, popping her thick knuckles.
"Wait!" I stopped her, backing up a step. This was getting out of hand more quickly than I had anticipated. "I said nothing of the sort," I said as calmly as I could muster, denying the charge.
"Oh you didn't, huh?" she asked, taking a step closer.
"No, everyone knows that I would never say anything like that. I don't even say 'bad' words. My mom would never stand for it, and I certainly don't have anything against you. I thought we got along okay. Like I said, I've said nothing like that ever in my entire life," I tried to reason with her. My character had been directly challenged, and I was hoping that my reputation could speak for itself.
"Well, that's not what Ashley just told me!" she replied angrily.
"Ashley said that?" I asked, a bit shocked at first, but not upon further reflection.
Over the weekend my parents had gone out of town, and my mom brought me back a lovely music note pencil topper of glittery blue. I had been overjoyed and brought it to school every day, thoroughly enjoying the way that it seemed to dance across the desk as I did my assignments. That morning, however, I had discovered to my great disappointment that it was missing. In English class, to my great shock, I had seen Ashley playing with it across the room and showing it off to all her friends. Surprised that she would have stolen it from me, I had confronted her about it. Naturally she was embarrassed and publicly denied the charge with some choice words of her own, and I could see in her eyes that she was angry with me. It was all starting to make sense now...Ashley was a little smaller than me, and I perceived that she did not have the guts to punch me herself, but she was certainly the clever and conniving sort of person who would have sought to have Monique do her dirty work unawares.
Turning back to the moment at hand, "Well, let's think about it logically," I began, for logic was obviously my best chance of avoiding a broken nose. "You know that I don't have anything against you personally. Also, you know that I would not have said any 'bad' words, much less cuss words. Perhaps Ashley has something against one of us, and just wanted us to get in a fight. That is a much more likely possibility," I posited.
I could see her beginning to process my theory and weighing its believability. I said a quick, silent prayer for protection, but remained fairly confident that my case was rock solid.
"Yeah, I've never had a problem with you," she admitted. "It doesn't seem like something you would say either. You're pretty quiet and shy after all," she reasoned. "Actually it sounds more like something Ashley would say!" she suddenly realized. "Ashley called me a b****!" she yelled.
"So we're cool?" I asked, still a bit on egg shells, but more at ease now, and seeking confirmation that she was not going to punch me.
"Yeah, we're cool. I think I'm going to go find Ashley, though. It seems that we have something to talk about," she replied distractedly, picking up her navy blue backpack. "I'll see you around," she said, walking across the quad toward the faded yellow picnic tables by the bike racks where Ashley was laughing with some friends.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I gulped down the rest of my soda, grabbed my notebook paper and shoved it into my purple Lisa Frank kittens folder, and rushed into the library, eager to read about how to care for your horse's hooves, not caring to stay around to see how Ashley and Monique's 'conversation' went.
**This is the first of a series of 'Memoir Moments' that I plan to compose during this Lenten season, as first inspired a couple years ago by my dear friend Leilani. Names in the stories may be changed for privacy reasons and some of the details added for flourish, but I plan to tell the stories in as much detail as I can recall, with a bit of humor, and with as much honesty and transparency as I can muster. The moments featured will span the spectrum of a little 'life lesson' to a pivotal moment in my life. I hope you find these 'Memoir Moments' an enjoyable and edifying read ~ VP
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