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“Look! That’s a bald eagle. There’s another. And another. There’s three bald eagles.”
Kyle squints at the sky, and sees Cody’s bald eagles: three turkey vultures flying wide circles high above the woods that border the playground. Kyle may be the only first grader in the whole school who can identify a turkey vulture, and he isn’t quite sure what to say. Cody made his proclamation with pride and pomp, and disputing it wouldn’t do either of them any good. He nods and turns to face the line of students assembling behind them; recess is over.
Life seems to be moving in slow motion today. The September sun still shines with summer’s intensity, and Kyle feels sluggish and contemplative. He scans his classmates’ clothing and haircuts through the pale yellow flashes of bouncing sunlight. There is no middle ground, he decides, between the sharp-looking kids and the sloppy ones. No middle ground, that is, except for himself. This morning he discovered a groundbreaking new style; he tucked his shirt in just a bit on his left hip, and let the rest of it sag down across his waist. Then, as his mother gave him his lunchbox, she brusquely yanked it out and told him that he didn’t want to go to school looking silly. She didn’t even realize he’d worn it that way intentionally. He didn’t object, but on the bus he sat by the window and glared at the houses and trees.
Standing quietly at the front of the line, he concedes his sense of style to the universe. He accepts his loss calmly for now, but knows that later, in bed, the shame will burn in his thoughts. Still, he is not one of the sloppies. His mother had proved him a fool, but some things he knows for sure: he knows he speaks well. He moves well, spells well. He even plays kickball well. No, Kyle is no slob. He is fairly confident that he doesn’t let too many breaches of judgment like the left-hip shirt-tuck pass his censorship. And the girls like him. If he can keep his guard up, no one will ever suspect him to be anything but a stud.
His thoughts have grown too big too fast by the time he sits back down in his desk. A headache: the kind his mom told him is called a migraine.
In the nurse’s office, he lies on the vinyl quasi-bed with the blanket she gave him. His movements crinkle the paper slip-cover. He closes his eyes and puts two fingers on his temples, where he can feel his heartbeat. The migraine, he figures, just needs to pump itself out of his blood through his skin. His fingers, conductors of the electric pain, can feel it happening. The nurse chats with her assistant about her husband’s failure to quit smoking, and her household cigarette search and destroy campaign. Kyle remembers the day his parents took him to the ocean, and he drifted in and out of peaceful sleep on his towel, listening to the lulling hum of voices on the crowded beach. Maybe he can find peace now, too, as long as the nurse keeps talking. He isn’t thinking; only listening, and feeling his head ache. Maybe that is why he has the headaches, because he needs to stop thinking so much. Tomorrow he’ll barely think at all, if his head will promise not to hurt again.
His mom comes to take him home. He doesn’t need to say anything, and she waits until they’re out the door to hold his hand. Soon he’ll be in a real bed, and she will read him fairy tales as long as he wants. Migraines don’t go away until the next morning, he remembers, but at least he’ll be home soon. Today was a bad day. Tomorrow will probably be better.
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yay!
Written by strawberryshrapnel (61 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | This is so beautiful,it conveys the awkwardness of how it is to feel an outsider and realise it,so carefully the character makes decisions as to how to maintain equilibrium,his own personal balance. The second paragraph made me laugh to myself,his attempt to create his own style falling flat,I recall my youth,yeh thats familiar!
And eventually,that lovely optomism and acceptance of his day.
I would love to know how the rest of his life is.
Thanks!
| v good description
Written by mmSeason (32 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | V good description; bit of a feeling of waiting to get to the point then wondering what it had been... but Kyle is a believable character and the unreal mood before a migraine is (all too!) recognisable.
By the way, it's definitely not a poem, Toad, is it?
mand |
Written by AnnieSeed (128 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | This is beautifully written and Kyle seems very real and human, a very sympathetic character. Poor little lad, I hope he feels better soon. I used to suffer from migraines - he's braver than I ever was!
Only one thing: it should be "he lies on the bed" not "lays" | thanks
Written by Toad (100 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | I'm glad to hear this was enjoyed. I suppose the point, mand, is that "life goes on." Plot usually doesn't drive my fiction, I'm more of a snapshot writer.
The errors have been corrected...and no, as messy as my formats can be, this was not a poem! |
Written by stevetroster (1549 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | Optimism. I like the snapshot.
Glad you got the posting changed, I originally read this when it was in poetry, and I've only just come out of shock. I thought; 'posting this in poetry, toad's digging himself a big hole'.
Best wishes
steve. |
Written by Toad (100 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | | Ha...it's best for toads to stay above ground, I won't make that mistake again. Glad ya liked it. |
Written by stevetroster (1549 comments posted) 22nd May 2007 | Eh gads! it's back in poetry again...
Toad in the hole! |
Written by Fledermaus (3246 comments posted) 23rd May 2007 | Eh... But Kyle is a kid right? He sounds too grown up to me. I bet most kids would start a quarrel over the 'bald eagles'. And him choosing his own clothes-style sounds more like he's a teenager than a small kid.
And where he reasons about the headache, he seems to have rather grown-up thoughts as well. Maybe he's too far ahead of his peers?
It was well written, but I couldn't stop thinking that Kyle was not a normal kid... | First grader?
Written by Asferthecat (834 comments posted) 23rd May 2007 | |
Written by Asferthecat (834 comments posted) 23rd May 2007 | How old is a first grader. This must be set in America. He certainly seems to be a wierd kid but an interesting one. I like the migraine - it sets him apart. Is he going to end up murdering everyone? I searched for clues but couldn't find any.
PS sorry about two posts instead of one, I pressed the wrong button again. | no murder!
Written by Toad (100 comments posted) 23rd May 2007 | Kyle would be 6 or 7 years old. He's not quite normal, but mainly only because he's smarter than his peers. The clothing style bit was meant to be childish, not adolescent behavior...even little kids can get excited over their appearance. The experience I was going for was the dawning of self-awareness in a youngster and the recognition of all the day to day judgments people make of one another, and the realization of how much energy must be put into defense against such judgments- he realizes this as he catches himself judging others and himself.
He is indeed too young for such thoughts, so his little mind suffers from migraines. But I didn't want him to be "weird", just thoughtful and introverted. I picture him getting along well with his peers, however. Murdering them?! Absolutely not!
Thanks much for the feedback, really made me think about the story anew. |
Written by Phil (6675 comments posted) 27th May 2007 | Enjoyed this very much. A little more than a snapshot. It shows deep character - and a really interesting one at that. I wouldn't worry too much about the kid seeming too mature. Even very young children can have great depths. Very well written - a really good read.
Phil. |
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