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Chapter 14: Andrea Pounds the Snot out of Renata
I didn’t find out until the next week that Andrea got kicked out of the sixth grade for pounding the snot out of Renata Regent. This was one time Andrea was truly picking on someone her own size; they were both the same height now. And very close to the same age.
The library was the only thing you could count on doing in the small town of Taylor, once the sun went down. All the teenagers went there to study on Tuesday and Thursday nights, but everyone knew that their real destination was the lot behind the library, where smoking and hickey practice went on.
I once had the idea that I was going to read every book in the junior section from A to Z. I got as far as Louisa May Alcott, skipped to Alfred Hitchcock and never looked back. I hung around there so much, and the librarian got so use to me, she actually let me check out a book that I was far too young for. I wonder if she had any idea about the description on page forty-five of this teenage girl with her hand down this guy’s pants and what it all felt like. When I returned the book, thoroughly read, and then some, I felt my face warm up. Surely everyone there could see it written on my face, “I know what a penis is now.” I thought I would get in some big trouble, but no one said a thing. The library attendant put that book right back on display; where it had caught my attention in the first place. The book’s title was “Ghosts.” Ghosts, indeed.
But the real thrill was the Book of Health. This was a huge, slab of a book that everyone used now and then for reports. It had the creepiest pictures of skin diseases and stuff like that. But it also had an incredible array of bare breasts spread across four pages. For this reason, if the librarian caught us with this book, she always took it away. Never mind that we had reports to write. The Book of Health, at the time, was the only resource available, to clue us in on the changes awaiting us. The intimate pictures started with a girl’s boobs at age eleven and progressed to age sixteen. These were real boobs, these weren’t just drawings and the first time I saw them, I felt I’d stumbled on a gold mine.
I only pulled that book out of its slot when I was sure the librarian was preoccupied. So far, it was the only bona fide sex education I got as a kid. Oh for sure, the next year we had special hush-hush films on reproduction and the pamphlets and speeches about the most wonderful time in a girl’s life. Dear god. That doesn’t even bear description.
A week after Renata’s return visit, me and Doreen were at the library pretending to be studying, when Andrea opened the library door, shook the rain off her shoulders, and came in from the cold night. Andrea Tomak showing up to study at the library was on the order of the second coming of Christ; it just wasn’t going to be on the calendar for awhile. So when she plopped herself down between Doreen and I at the study table, I knew she had news.
“I’m expelled,” she said between clenched teeth. She looked around, to see if the librarian was anywhere near.
“You mean you’re kicked out of school?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she blew air out of her mouth, ruffling her raven hair. She ran grubby fingers through it, and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t give a rip. Is that the Book of Health?”
“Shh!” Doreen warned.
“You perverts!” Andrea grinned.
“We are studying for our report on Elephantitus,” Doreen huffed.
“Yeah, sure.”
“What happened?” I asked.
And then Andrea told us about riding her horse that weekend. She was riding past Randalson’s and saw Helen Castle coming out of the store. Helen had her tattered notebook and a loaf of bread in the basket of her bike, when Renata rode up on a Sting Ray bicycle. Only the rich kids had Sting Rays.
When Helen saw Renata her face got all flushed and she scrambled to get on her bike in a hurry. Renata parked her fancy bike and set the kick stand. From across the street, Andrea slowed her horse to a halt and eyed the two. Renata didn’t see her. All Renata saw was Helen’s angry, red face.
“What’s the matter with you Helen?” Andrea heard Renata say in a taunting voice.
Helen’s face grew stony and she said, “Nothing.” She got on her bike to leave.
“What have you got in your basket?” Renata asked her.
“Nothing. I have to go home.”
“Lemme see.” Renata snatched up the notebook.
“Leave that alone!” Helen pleaded.
“Why? What’s in here?” and Renata opened it, rifling through the pages.
“Ohhhh. I see. I see all your little pictures.” Renata began studying them and snickering.
Helen’s lower lip started trembling. Renata tossed the notebook back in the basket, like so much trash.
“And what’s this?” She grabbed the brown paper bag that held the loaf of bread. “Oh, bread! I’m hungry.” She ripped open the plastic bag and pulled out a piece of bread.
“Thtop it. My mom’th gonna be mad!” Helen cried.
Renata tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth, eyes sparkling. Then she started pulling out pieces of bread and tossing them in the air, laughing.
“When I saw that,” Andrea said, “I almost rode her down with my horse. She honestly thought it was funny. I saw something in her face; made me think of that Satan guy Old Lady Thompson is always preachin’ about,” said Andrea.
There was nothing funny about ruining a loaf of bread your mother had sent you to get at the store for that evening’s supper. The fact that Helen only bought one loaf instead of the four-for-a-dollar special Ronaldson’s was holding that weekend, said everything to Andrea, whose own family lived on cornbread and home-grown rabbit.
Andrea tethered her horse to a fire hydrant, got down slowly and crossed the street to Ronaldson’s three-stall parking lot.
“You’re mean!” Helen said to Renata.
And there it was. The words no one could say to Miss Renata Regent. The words no adult in our world believed could apply to her.
Before Andrea could cross the street, Renata had thrown down the half-empty plastic bag of bread and grabbed Helen’s prized notebook again. Renata started pulling pages out. She methodically pulled out drawing after drawing, flinging them on the cracked pavement. A few, she studied, then tore into pieces, before tossing away. She found the one of Donna and Nina dressed in froth and white lace and Renata stopped.
“No!” Helen screamed.
“She never cried,” Andrea told us. “She was angry and she looked like she was just gonna explode, but Helen never shed a tear.” Andrea’s face was aglow with a strange respect as she continued.
Renata started to rip the paper down the middle when Andrea reached her.
“I remember kicking a dog like that, when he was chewing the life out of a cat. I felt the same way. I put everything into that kick,” said Andrea.
Andrea raised her right leg, bent at the knee, pulled it back like a spring and brought all the force of well-formed thigh and buttock muscle; years of standing in her horse’s stirrups, and kicked Renata in the butt as hard as she could.
Renata’s head snapped back with the unexpected whiplash of it, and she fell on her hands and knees.
Helen stood there, shocked for a moment, then started picking up shreds of her drawings.
“You hurry home, Helen,” Andrea said.
Then Mr. Ronaldson came barreling out of the glass swinging doors of his store. “Damn you Tomak kids can’t keep outta trouble. I’ve called the cops on you.”
“He never saw the first part of that fight,” Andrea explained.
“Course not,” said Doreen, “they never do, do they?”
Andrea breathed in deeply, as if she’d been holding her breath a long time. Her shoulders relaxed. “So, yeah. I’m out of school for now and on restriction for two weeks. My dad won’t even let me ride my horse.”
“And you got away tonight?” I asked.
“My dad will only let me go to church and the library. And school. But they won’t let me come to school, of course.”
“Some punishment,” Doreen said.
Andrea smirked. “You shoulda seen her bloody knees.”
“I wish I could have,” I said.
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