Stevan Mena - Transience

Tommy stepped back and saw the chalk dust sketch. “What, you gonna draw us a picture?” Rebecca tearfully massaged her squished fingers. Jeff moved in and knelt beside her, getting right in her face.

“I think she’s gonna cry,” Jeff said, dribbling spit like some mad dog. Rebecca pushed him and, because he was kneeling off balance, he went tumbling backwards. Several kids laughed out loud, which made Jeff want to hurt Rebecca more. Rebecca knew staying on the ground would leave her vulnerable to his assured counter attack. She stood up, her back to the wall.

Tommy clenched and whirled his fist as if he might strike her, but stopped just short of landing one. “I ought-a kick your face in!”

Christina saw what was happening and skipped over, followed by a few bottom feeders.

“Nobody likes you, retard,” Christina said.

“I don’t care,” Rebecca said, keeping her chin up. Christina recoiled at her defiance and got right up in her face, shoving her.

“Think you’re so smart, don’t you?” She grabbed Rebecca’s shoulders and pushed her again, hard. “No one likes you.” She went to do it again, but Rebecca pushed back. A look of stunned disbelief on Christina’s face.

The crowd of children “oohed ” like a bloodthirsty mob. Rebecca thought about what Jack had told her the other day. Maybe if she just ignored them, they would leave her alone. She relaxed her shoulders.

Christina took a running start and shoved Rebecca again, the back of Rebecca’s head slammed into the brick wall. Rebecca’s eyes welled up from the shock and pain. She rubbed her scalp, but showed no fear.

Tommy and Jeff joined Christina, pushing and pulling Rebecca like toddlers fighting over a rag doll. Rebecca fought to stand her ground. There was a familiarity about the violence that unleashed waves of hysteria inside her. Her skin got numb, her mouth dried up, she felt dizzy.

The crowd thickened, growing louder and riotous. They shouted taunts and encouragement to Tommy and his gang of thugs.

“Grab her hair!” one said. Christina obliged and they all tumbled to the ground.

Holly pushed her way through the crowd. Rebecca was trapped under the pile, only her small feet visible, kicking and stomping. Holly screamed at the top of her lungs, “Leave her alone!”

A scrawny boy with glasses who was hyped up and cheering like he was a spectator at a wrestling match shoved Holly back, “Shut up!”

“Stop it! They’re hurting her!” Holly wailed.

Rebecca could hear Holly’s cries through the taunts and shouts. It gave her strength to keep fighting.

“Hold her down!” Jeff screamed. Christina grabbed Rebecca’s face and neck. The sensation sent waves of terror through Rebecca’s body and she lost all bearings — was this just another nightmare?

Something flashed before her eyes, a bright white light that made everything around her vanish like water vapor in the wind. The world began to spin, it made her sick and nauseous.

She could still feel hands around her neck — but the children were replaced by a dark figure hovering over her, menacing, terrifying. She could smell his breath. His darkened face was a blur, but his shape was familiar. She could feel his dirty, blistered fingers wrapped around her throat. She could smell blood, in her mouth, up her nose.

Her windpipe squeezed shut, she couldn’t get air into her lungs. Her eyes bulged. She tossed and flailed about like a fish out of water. Tommy and the others saw what was happening and let go. They stood up and backed away.

A teacher’s aide finally spotted the melee and pushed through the sea of tiny onlookers, blowing her whistle for them to make way. “What’s going on? Break it up!” she shouted. Christina and the others quickly adopted somber expressions, nervous about the damage they had caused.

“We didn’t mean it,” Christina insisted, her voice now timid and innocent.

“We were just kidding,” Jeff added.

Several of the other children, who moments ago were screaming for blood like a mob of striking teamsters, burst into tears at the grim reality of their bullying.

Rebecca’s eyes had rolled back into their sockets, her torso lurching and sputtering, in the throws of a violent seizure. The aide, who had only just volunteered for the job a few weeks ago, stood helplessly for a moment, clueless. She knelt beside Rebecca and put her hand on her chest, as if trying to wake her from the spell. Upon her touch, Rebecca lashed out wildly, striking the aide across the cheek.

She recovered and cradled Rebecca’s head to keep it from smashing on the concrete. She held her tightly as Rebecca’s body quivered and trembled, so harshly, one of her shoes flew off. The aide blew her whistle again, a long breath, loud like an alarm.

Rebecca had lost all contact with the outside world. In her mind, she could see trees, branches, water. The vision spun faster and faster. Everything dripped red, as if bathed in blood. She felt herself slipping away, further and further, all sensation draining from her body. Soon there was only the cold darkness.

A blinding circle of light roused Rebecca. It moved from one eye to the other. How strange …

“Just follow the light. That’s it,” said a soft voice. A nurse peeled open Rebecca’s eyelid again and shined a penlight into her pupil to watch it dilate. Rebecca winced, her reaction made the nurse smile, she was going to be okay.

She blinked, groggy, the bright white room started to come into focus. There was a doctor and several nurses hovering over her, adjusting wires. Her arm felt sore; she looked and saw a needle in her skin held with a bandage, with a tube that connected to a bag filled with fluid, dripping. This isn’t the nurse’s office .

An announcement over a PA asked for a doctor to please come to the ER immediately. Outside, a man was wheeled by on a gurney. What happened to me? All at once every muscle in her small body flexed and tensed. She started to panic.

“Just relax, Rebecca,” the nurse said, gently rubbing her shoulders, easing her back down.

Hearing her name calmed her a bit. The voice was soft, like her mother’s, and her thoughts immediately went to her. Where is she? Does she know how to find me? Did something happen to her, too?

“Shhhh,” the nurse could see Rebecca’s anxiety growing. She caressed her forehead and held her hand. The nurse’s touch was warm, her skin smooth. A sharp contrast to the rough, blistered fingers that had tried to choke Rebecca to death moments before.

There he was again; about 35, brown hair, clean cut. Nice smile. He would always find a reason to search endlessly for something wherever Laura happened to be stacking shelves. But so far, he hadn’t had the courage to speak to her.

She turned to look in his direction and he darted his eyes away. She tried to time it — catch him looking. His quick head turn made her laugh. It was nice to be reminded that she was still an attractive woman. Still alive. Even though she’d stopped caring about her appearance, her face bloated and listless from so many sleepless nights, it hadn’t affected her innate beauty. Her visible condition, her sad eyes, brought out the protective impulses of some men.

But her life revolved around Rebecca now and she was fine with that. The divorce had steeled her resolve; she needed to make sure Rebecca’s environment remained stable. It was more of a priority than her own loneliness.

Laura crouched down to organize the bottom shelf, leaning in and reaching to the back to retrieve outdated boxes of cereal, pulling them to the front. She took a large stack of current ones and placed them on the shelf above, in order to pull the older ones out.