Like most little girls, at one time or another, she felt pressure. Pressure to be pretty, pressure to be lady-like, pressure to be polite, silly and smart. These were the pressures that the adults surrounded her placed on her back without even knowing they did so. These were the pressures that after she hopped off of the bus at 3:30pm disappeared and were replaced instead, with the pressures her friends put upon her.
...Having a "cool bike", wearing Guess Jeans, having lip gloss that tasted like strawberries...these were the pressures placed on her 4th grade soul, and these were the things she could not control. After all, her parents "weren't made of money, you know!"
So she pretended not to like riding bikes and wearing jeans and settled for the lipgloss, with it's clear, syrupy sweet liquid rolling over her pretty pink lips. And then she decided to take matters into her own hands.
While the adults had their unspoken pressures of how she should act, her peers were much more vocal. There were, at any given moment, at least 5 different people she was supposed to hate, merely because her friends did. These were usually the girls who were not able to whine their parents into guilt and therefore, did not get to taste strawberries when they licked their lips.
On Friday's she was allowed to walk down the street to play with her cousin and the other neighborhood kids. They'd scamper happily for hours in the woods, playing hide and seek or creating forts out of sticks and leaves. Sometimes, they'd 'discover' a thief and have to hunt down his trail, dreaming in earnest of being interviewed by the local news as heroes.
On this particular Friday, she and her cousin were twirling quietly on the swing set, waiting for the boy they often played with to finish his dinner so he could come play. As they sat, tangled in rusted chain links and dirt, their conversation drifted to Jeannie.
"She's such a douche bag. I hate her so much." Her cousin said.
"I know. She gets whatever she wants. She is so spoiled."
"Let's build a trap for her when Paul gets outside." the cousin giggled manically.
"Yeah! We can make her swing off of the branch and fall into a big pile of poop!" They doubled over in laughter dreaming of their enemy covered in poop.
Minutes later, Paul joined the girls and the three put the plan into action.
Clearing away one area of the yard, they gathered a sizable pile of leaves which they methodically placed at the bottom of the tree they often swum from. It's branch hung over a stone wall and if they stood on their tip toes, they could reach it, swing a few times, and jump into a "pit" made by the hill. This was where they placed the leaves, and, incidentally, the poop.
Because Jeannie was evil, and because they hated her so very much, they decided they would lure her into the pit by inviting her to play with them, watching her swing her way to her own demise.
While her cousin ran next door to bring Jeannie over, Paul added an extra bonus-he wrapped the swing branch with prickers from the near by rosebush. That way, if she happened not to land in the poop, at least her hands would hurt.
The 2 girls came running anxiously over to where Paul and she were waiting. They smiled and waved and asked what we were doing. "Waiting for you!" they replied. "Come down here!" she said.
Out of instinct, her cousin stepped forward and grabbed the swinging branch just as Paul cried out an anguished "NO!"
It was too late. Her hands were bloody from the rose prickers. As she landed in the pit, she slipped and fell to her knees, immediately covered in poop. She'd forgotten to jump slightly to the left in her unexpected moment of pain.
Jeannie, seeing the trap for what it was, ran away laughing, calling them stupid the whole way home.
As for the three mischievous children-for the next 14 days, the pressure the adults put on them was not so unspoken....
Story inspired by Manic Monday's at It's a Blog Eat Blog World.
