My thanks to Deecats who gave me the idea for this story and to pjs who edited it and helped me generally. Watch this space for a new series which pjs and I are putting together.
“I just don’t fit in, “ I thought, stuck in traffic.
“And how many times have you said that” the dark side snapped back. “And you don’t, these women are much smarter, much more civilised.”
“They are fucking middle class!” In a way this was the new me, I’d have never answered the dark side back in the old days- the pre Brendon days- not this way anyway. But I had to admit, it was right- so far as it went. The women were better educated- most had been to college, they went to concerts, to plays, to reading circles- that is when they were not at work- most seemed to work part time. But then so did I now, three mornings a week was about as much as I seemed to manage now.
“And they would never swear in front of their children.” Again the dark side had the last word. Again it was right.
I looked back at James and Amy. They didn’t seem to have heard. They were the reason I only worked part time now, and they were the reason I was stuck in traffic. I had never thought getting children to preschool would be so much hassle. It wasn’t getting them up and dressed. No, they never had a chance to complain, to argue, they knew who was boss, just like Cassie Foxe, Jordy Wolters and all the rest had known, though not- and here I smiled for the first time that morning- for quite the same reason. No the kids were well behaved, it was the traffic. I’d never had to face it before, I’d grumbled about the CTA, but it got me to the office. And going to the factory had never been such a hassle, shift work had had something going for it. But this traffic, in suburbia!
This whole thing, daycare, preschool, I just knew I’d never understand it. “Because you don’t make an effort, you don’t try.”
I snapped back at the dark side. “I try so hard, I go to the reading circle, I took James, I take Amy to playgroup, I even hosted the playgroup moms at home.” And that had been a nightmare, I just knew I’d stuffed up. The playgroup was run by a local church, all these women were part of the church; I just didn’t fit in. Me with tats, me with my accent, me with the whole working class ethos.
“Yeah, you with a chip on your shoulder the size of Union Station. And 'ethos' , you didn't know what it means a year ago- hell you still don't properly go and look it up in the dictionary” That the dark side told me to use a dictionary was one way I knew I'd changed.
“Fuck!”I swore, I’d almost hit another auto. I tried to pay more attention to the traffic, to shut all those other things out of my mind.
I was in a foul temper by the time I got to the centre. I knew I had to mask my anger, I just knew it was wrong to take it out on the staff- they had done nothing to make me angry, I just knew it was just as wrong to take it out on the other Moms- even if they were like me – juggling kids, work and everything else. But they weren’t like me, they all seemed to juggle so well, nothing seemed too hard for them. “Face it,” the dark side insisted, “you’re just not up to their standard!” I simmered , I fumed but I outwardly kept my temper.
I signed James and Amy in, I said a few words to the ‘carer’- a word that has never seemed right to me- better to call them a child minder and be done with it, put their backpacks down and kissed the kids goodbye. They ran off to find some friends. “At least they were happy”, I told myself, “at least I can get that right.” The dark side told me that the reason they were not clingy like other kids were was because they couldn't wait for me to go.
I walked out back to my auto and was almost bowled over by two kids running in. “Watch where you’re going please.” I said, I was more anxious for the children, I just knew that I’d hurt them much more if we fell together than they would ever hurt me.
“Watch where you’re going yourself,” I looked up, the speaker was young- barely early 20s, I supposed she was the children’s mother. “This is a child care centre, you should be looking out for kids, you know they don’t have much sense at that age.”
“They do if they are brought up right. “ I snapped back. “My children look where they are going.” But I tried to soften my words- I added, I ‘m sure yours do too, most of the time, they are excited about day care. I was just worried about them falling over, or being knocked over.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders, she glared at me. I glared back. This woman differed from most of the other women at the centre- not only was she a lot younger, she was bigger, almost my build, with muscly arms and thighs. And she spoke more like I did than any of these prissy whitebread women. And there was the top of a tattoo just visible at the neck of her blouse.
“Watch where you’re going” she repeated. “that way” looked straight at me and raised her voice a little “no one will get hurt”. This woman had had the attitude I had had back then but which I was just trying so hard to root out of me. I’d thought that inner voice would have been pleased but instead it told me I was pretending to be something I wasn’t- a wannabee.
She stepped towards me. Surprised I stepped to the side. She swung her hips so they banged into me. I was shocked, no one had done this to me in years. I slapped down the dark side’s sneer that it was about time I got my own medicine –after all I told it, I haven’t done that to any one recently either. I was more shocked still when the younger woman repeated her move; the bitch tried to knock me down. What was more shocking to me was how nearly successful she was. I stumbled; I almost fell. She smirked and walked to her car. She was gone before I could do anything.
I stood fuming.
I was still grumpy two days later when I saw the same woman, her kids and an older woman who I guessed was her mother. I bit my tongue, I told myself there was no way I was going to be bitchy.
And I wasn’t –well not to begin with.
The young woman seized the opportunity. She turned to her mother. “There’s that bitch I was telling you about. “
I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing I was mad as a cut snake.!I shepherded James and Amy into the centre, signed them in, hugged and kissed them. Today, Amy didn't want to go play, she wanted me to stay with her. I sighed. At least the dark side couldn't say the kid wanted me to go. I played with her and one of her friends for a few moments- I'd liked Lego when I was a kid, now they had duplo and that was kinda fun. I realised I could have played for ages and told myself to buy a box so we could play at home. But not now. Amy was happy so I stood up, admired what she was building, kissed her and walked out. Late! I was almost at my car when the older woman walked past.
“Yeah, as Laura says a bitch, and a weak bitch too, doesn’t have the guts to stand up for herself.”
I turned, I was not going to let this woman rile me. I realised I had left a bag in the office, I’d got it out to pay the centre –it had our checking account book in it correct they call em checks & checking accounts I walked back to the office, picked up the bag, apologised to the staff and came out.
The woman and her daughter stood together. “Yes she is a bitch, a weak bitch.”
I’d had enough “Oh yes. and who are you talking to? Is that your daughter over there?”
“ Yes it is. “
“ Clearly you and she have the same gutter manners. “
“You got room to talk bitch!”
“ I don't shove other people aside and then run away!” It was time the woman learned just how low her daughter was.
“No one shoved you hun!”
I straightened my shoulders, 'oh yeah your daughter did.. or maybe she didnt tell you that”
“She said she accidently bumped you , and you got all nasty.”
That was just too much, I’d not got nasty, I’d just stood there, bewildered. I guess that showed how changed I really was; the old Jenn would have bit back I hadn’t. But I just knew all the old bile, the old aggression, the old ‘capital A’ attitude was lapping only an inch or so below the dam wall and it wouldn’t take much for it to breach that dam. I tried again not to bite. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “ Yeah like hell. She 'accidentally did it three times' And yes I exaggerated. “She's a liar!” I bit back adding “A well as a bitch.” But said, “How about you get her to apologise. If you do I’ll apologise too- no hard feelings.” I went out of my way to be conciliatory.
But the older woman wasn’t having any of it. She stepped closer, eyeballing me. “ You're calling my daughter a liar? You’ve already called her a bitch. Why should she apologise to you, bitch?”
That just did it , the dam burst. “Yes I did call her a bitch, she is one, as well as a liar. And so are you, you’re a bitch too. Remember who started this. It wasn’t me!”
“No it was me and I’ll finish it too bitch!” She stood there, ready to fight.
By then I was ready too. “Put up or shut up hag.”
She glared at me . “Fuck you bitch!”
“Oh yeah well no one would want to fuck you , you old hag.”I paused, groping for an insult; if I was going to fight, I’d have a good reason. “I guess you were on a few street corners in your day. Just like your daughter is now” I stabbed my finger in the daughter’s direction, she was leaning against a lamp post, her right leg bent, with the sole of her right foot pressed against the pole. Her skirt –already short enough- had hiked up. All she needed was a low cut blouse, fish net stockings and high heels. “Like mother like daughter!”I hissed.
“You fucking bitch. “the older woman snarled, her right hand lashed forward , backhanding hard across my face. “Maybe that will teach you to keep your nasty mouth shut!”
“Fuck you, whore" I replied, slapping her with my right back handing her face, my left reaching lower to slap at her boobs. My instincts were still working, my reactions were spot on. Both blows hit.
The older woman groaned as my back hand slap pushed her face to the side. She hissed, “You fucking bitch” as my left struck her boobs. She locked her hands on my shoulders and pushed.
Normally these shoving matches resulted in an easy win for me, I was strong, I was heavy and I could almost always force my opponent back. Not this time; despite digging my heels into the ground, despite pushing hard myself, the hag shoved me back, I found myself stumbling back a pace, then another, then a third. The bitch was close to pushing me over! I disengaged for a moment, ducking so her hands left my shoulders. She found them again but this time I was ready, I forced her back, making up the ground I had lost.
Then the bitch fooled me completely by suddenly stepping to the side. She laughed as I lurched forward, she smacked my butt as I stumbled.
Her daughter cackled, “Tan her fat ass good mom!”
I turned round, furious at falling for so old a trick; I walked right into the bitch’s kick. It hit my thigh- I had to just about throw myself sideways to avoid it hitting my gut. I pivoted, moving towards her and sent a punch aimed at her tummy. It hit she grunted but gave back as good as she got with a left to my right boob, her right , aimed at my belly. I just avoided the right. I retreated, she had me on the backfoot. She kept me there with short jabs, some landed, some missed but I didn’t seem to be able to score a blow. I closed on her clinching, hitting at her kidneys, ignoring the pain that her punches gave.
She broke away, I followed, first checking on the daughter- I didn't want her to help her mother, but she was staying out of it. Perhaps she had some honour after all. I turned back quickly to the older woman, sending a left right combo aimed at her belly. They hit, she was like me, plump, -yeah overweight, her belly was as soft and vulnerable as my own. I felt my fists sink in- such a good feeling; the first time I’d really got in a good blow in this fight. She groaned, she stumbled back, trying to block my fists. I kept the pressure on, trying to work my fists through her defences. I did, a few times. She groaned each time a punch landed. I was pounding her!
She hit back, hard, her right fist landed in my gut. I’d not defended properly, too keen on beating the shit out of her. I faltered, puffing; she’d slowed me. She followed that with a kick, aiming her knee for my belly. I dodged that blow, again stepping to the side. The old hag wasn’t as fast as I was- that was a change, usually I was the slow one. I capitalised by pivoting again and aiming my left fist into the side of her belly. She was turning, right into my incoming fist. It struck hard, the punch landed right in the centre of her soft belly. She groaned, she staggered, bending forward slightly. She punched hard, aiming for my right boob. It hit but now I was on top, and a blow to the boob had never stopped me.
I pressed my advantage, sending another punch aimed her tummy. She deflected it. She closed, trying to push me back just as she had earlier. We clinched, not bothering with hands on shoulders, she shoved. But she was tired, she was hurt, and I was on a roll. Instead of pushing me back I pushed her. I snaked my foot behind hers and shoved. She was too cunning to fall for that trick, stepping quickly to the side and out of my way. But just as she knew what I was about , I was ready for her trick. I turned, half way through shoving her, slamming her side. Sure she hurt me, she’d bent forward, if she had turned a bit more quickly, she’d have had her shoulder in my gut, she might yet have won. As it was her shoulder hit my side, I forced her back.
Again she broke away, again I followed her with swift jabs to her sides and belly. She looked worn, she was puffing hard. I attacked, she launched what was clearly a desperate blow trying to slow me down, to buy time. It didn’t work. I groaned as her punch hit. But I mastered the pain. I wasn’t about to defend, I was about to end this bitch. I fired two more punches, a left right combo at her midsection. She staggered, she tried to punch again, I brushed it aside with my left arm as my upswinging knee hit the pit of her belly.
She groaned, her mouth dropped open, she doubled over, clutching at her belly. I had a quick glance over at the daughter, she was standing there. I was ready to back away if she attacked, there was no way I'd want to be double teamed. No I had to finish the older woman fast.
I feinted with my fists as she began to rise. She took the bait and defended, pushing my arms away but failed to see my booted foot as I kicked at her belly . It hit. She dropped to all fours gasping for air.
She was finished, I knew it she knew it but I wasn’t finished with her. No , as the dark side had said before so it said then- I had to destroy the enemy. I hade to bully them. I told the dark side that the woman's daughter was there, that I needed to make an example of the mother to make sure the daughter got the message. It didn't believe me.And I didn't even believe myself.
I prodded her with my foot, digging the toe in between her ribs. "Not so tough now!" I sneered
She groaned, she tried to stand. "Give slut! or I'll destroy you in front of your daughter!" I wasn't taking any nonsense. She was silent, she got up. I wasn't going to let her go. I raised my knee aiming for her belly again. And I got it. She groaned, she crumpled to the ground, arms wrapped around her belly.
I kicked her once more then turned to the daughter "See your slut mother can't take it!
Her daughter rushed in to where the woman lay on the ground clutching her belly and groaning. The daughter helped her up, as I started to walk to my auto. "So bitch, neither of you have what it takes!" The daughter glared at me, I turned, stepped a pace out of my way “Anytime you want a fight bitch, you know where to look.”I stood still, as she helped her mother to their auto. I added, sneering, “You wont cuz you’ll end up like your mom, trashed, in the gutter where you belong.”
She yelled back “Bitch I will be watching for you”
“Go on make my day!” I waited till they drove off then I called work to say I’d be a bit late. I needed a shower.
