Monday, February 21, 2005

Pass-off story!

"You do not have crazy mutant powers."


Tybalt rolled his eyes. "Saying that doesn't make it so."

"Yes-huh," said Nineveh emphatically. She glared up at her older brother. "You're stupid."

"Oh, nice." Tybalt tugged at the strap to his backpack, wishing Mom would just get the car fixed. Walking his sister to school was grating away his patience. And his already fragile social standing among the other 8th graders.

Nineveh smiled the smile so many had already learned to fear: the mischievous grin of the 7-year-old prodigy. "I'm gonna use my spooky mutant powers on that subsitute teacher who always says my name wrong."

"Oh, they're spooky now. Give him a break. No sub's got any hope of getting NIN-uh-vuh the first time."

The little girl raised an eyebrow, seemingly tugging a corner of her mouth along with it as she smirke deviously. "It's Mr. Jimbly. The guy who used to call you TY-balt."

"Oh, well then. Do your worst," Tybalt chuckled. As he said it, they rounded the hedgerow into the schoolyard. There, none other than Mr. Jimbly, wagging his finger at a boy who was walking across the top of the monkey bars, stomping fingers.

"Watch me go, Tibs." Nineveh dropped her backpack and kicked it to one side. "Hey, Jimbly!"



Blogger Third said...

Jimbly, a frail spidery man, whirled on the girl as though on a pinion. "Yeeeeeeess?" He replied, strangely asymmetrical face craning on his neck for the source of the outcry. But before his eyes fell on her, Nineveh focused on that mysterious spot behind her navel, felt her fingers and toes grow warm and heavy, and whispered to herself
"He's blind."


Nineveh sighed, let out her breath, and Jimbly's cries fell silent, his eyes, now clear, falling upon her standing in the schoolyard before him.

"I... I..." He fumbled, his hands flailing at seemingly random particles of air that might have otherwise sat unmolested in the space in front of him in the most poignant gestures of utter bewilderment.

"You're weird, Mr. Jimbly." Nineveh said, closing one eye in the sun, and looking up at the man. Mr. Jimbly gawped at the girl another moment, feebly grasping for the vaguely fammiliar girl's name, an excuse for his behavior, an adequate reply of any sort, then ultimately decided to break off for the school's administrative office at a brisk clip.

7:20 AM  

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