Rum Raisin 15, Peppermint 15: Small Things
Title: Small Things
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 15 (stranger), peppermint 15 (blood), My Treat (sarcasticsra's: Summer's first childhood injury.)
Word Count: 720
Rating: PG
Summary: Summer scrapes her knee, and some things become obvious.
Notes: I'm going to write Gail's half of this someday, but not quite yet.
Summer scraped her knee on the playground one day in preschool, playing tag with herself (since no one else would play with her, but they were all boring anyway). She slipped on the gravel and fell, and when she got up, her knee was red and bleeding.
It was nothing, really. It stung, of course, and she probably needed to go to the nurse just in case. It probably needed to be washed out. There were all sorts of germs and things that could get in it and make it red and puffy, like her sister's ears the first time Ivy got them pierced. An infection. That's what her mother had called it. It was a bad thing.
She limped over to the bench and sat down, then propped her knee up and examined it closely. It was rather interesting the way the blood oozed out, just a little bit-- more when she squeezed her knee, but that made it hurt more, so she stopped doing it. There was a tiny piece of gravel in her knee. She picked it out carefully, wincing when it jarred. It bled a little more after the gravel was gone.
She was so absorbed in watching it that she didn't notice when the teacher on duty called them to line up. So Teacher came to get her, looming up suddenly and startling her so she jumped.
"Summer," Teacher said. "Summer, it's time to come in now. You need to... what happened to your knee?"
Summer looked at her, steadily, and said as if it was obvious (because it was), "I fell and scraped it."
"You poor girl!" Teacher exclaimed. Her voice was all sugary suddenly, like Mama's when Mama saw new babies. "Come on, let's take you to the nurse. How brave you are, not crying." Teacher held out her hand.
Summer didn't take it. She didn't like touching people she didn't know. "It doesn't hurt very much," she said.
Teacher's eyebrows dived down and she frowned, like Papa did when he didn't understand something. "Well, we'd better go to the nurse anyway," she said, cheerfully. Summer hated it when people talked to her cheerfully in that persistant way (she had just learned "persistant," and liked the way that it sounded). "Come on, dear, let's go in." She reached out and tried to take Summer's hand.
Summer hated it when people called her dear, too. She ducked Teacher's hand and limped towards the door, chin up.
Nurse was stubbornly cheerful too (Summer had learned "stubborn" by the time she was three), and even tried to hug her (Summer flinched away). She wished Mama was there, because Mama would not be cheerful. Mama would fuss, and scold her for running on the gravel, but she wouldn't treat Summer like this.
Both Nurse and Teacher watched her with worried eyes when they thought she wasn't looking. Summer didn't understand that. She hadn't cried or screamed, like some of the other girls did. She was quiet and calm so they wouldn't worry. She didn't want them to be cheerful at her.
When Mama came to pick her up, Teacher pulled her aside and said things to her in the soft voice that people used when they didn't want Summer to hear. Mama's face went through many different faces, starting with the face she made when she was surprised (eyebrows up, eyes open wide), and going through worry (same as surprised but with mouth turned down), and ending in anger (frowning, eyebrows down).
Then Mama said, "Thank you, I'll think about it," and sounded mad even, like her voice was stretched tight. She came over to Summer and said, "Come on, sweetheart, let's go."
Was Mama mad at her? Summer shrank a little bit, but took Mama's hand (she didn't mind when Mama touched her, because it was Mama) and walked out with her. Mama caught a cab and gave directions still in her stretched-angry-voice. It wasn't until they got home that she sighed, and got un-angry.
"How's your knee feeling?" she asked.
"It doesn't hurt," Summer said, because it didn't-- it had stopped stinging sometime in the afternoon. "Were you mad at me?"
Mama shook her head, and ruffled Summer's hair. "No, sweetheart. Just at your teacher."
"Why?" Summer asked, but Mama only shook her head.
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 15 (stranger), peppermint 15 (blood), My Treat (sarcasticsra's: Summer's first childhood injury.)
Word Count: 720
Rating: PG
Summary: Summer scrapes her knee, and some things become obvious.
Notes: I'm going to write Gail's half of this someday, but not quite yet.
Summer scraped her knee on the playground one day in preschool, playing tag with herself (since no one else would play with her, but they were all boring anyway). She slipped on the gravel and fell, and when she got up, her knee was red and bleeding.
It was nothing, really. It stung, of course, and she probably needed to go to the nurse just in case. It probably needed to be washed out. There were all sorts of germs and things that could get in it and make it red and puffy, like her sister's ears the first time Ivy got them pierced. An infection. That's what her mother had called it. It was a bad thing.
She limped over to the bench and sat down, then propped her knee up and examined it closely. It was rather interesting the way the blood oozed out, just a little bit-- more when she squeezed her knee, but that made it hurt more, so she stopped doing it. There was a tiny piece of gravel in her knee. She picked it out carefully, wincing when it jarred. It bled a little more after the gravel was gone.
She was so absorbed in watching it that she didn't notice when the teacher on duty called them to line up. So Teacher came to get her, looming up suddenly and startling her so she jumped.
"Summer," Teacher said. "Summer, it's time to come in now. You need to... what happened to your knee?"
Summer looked at her, steadily, and said as if it was obvious (because it was), "I fell and scraped it."
"You poor girl!" Teacher exclaimed. Her voice was all sugary suddenly, like Mama's when Mama saw new babies. "Come on, let's take you to the nurse. How brave you are, not crying." Teacher held out her hand.
Summer didn't take it. She didn't like touching people she didn't know. "It doesn't hurt very much," she said.
Teacher's eyebrows dived down and she frowned, like Papa did when he didn't understand something. "Well, we'd better go to the nurse anyway," she said, cheerfully. Summer hated it when people talked to her cheerfully in that persistant way (she had just learned "persistant," and liked the way that it sounded). "Come on, dear, let's go in." She reached out and tried to take Summer's hand.
Summer hated it when people called her dear, too. She ducked Teacher's hand and limped towards the door, chin up.
Nurse was stubbornly cheerful too (Summer had learned "stubborn" by the time she was three), and even tried to hug her (Summer flinched away). She wished Mama was there, because Mama would not be cheerful. Mama would fuss, and scold her for running on the gravel, but she wouldn't treat Summer like this.
Both Nurse and Teacher watched her with worried eyes when they thought she wasn't looking. Summer didn't understand that. She hadn't cried or screamed, like some of the other girls did. She was quiet and calm so they wouldn't worry. She didn't want them to be cheerful at her.
When Mama came to pick her up, Teacher pulled her aside and said things to her in the soft voice that people used when they didn't want Summer to hear. Mama's face went through many different faces, starting with the face she made when she was surprised (eyebrows up, eyes open wide), and going through worry (same as surprised but with mouth turned down), and ending in anger (frowning, eyebrows down).
Then Mama said, "Thank you, I'll think about it," and sounded mad even, like her voice was stretched tight. She came over to Summer and said, "Come on, sweetheart, let's go."
Was Mama mad at her? Summer shrank a little bit, but took Mama's hand (she didn't mind when Mama touched her, because it was Mama) and walked out with her. Mama caught a cab and gave directions still in her stretched-angry-voice. It wasn't until they got home that she sighed, and got un-angry.
"How's your knee feeling?" she asked.
"It doesn't hurt," Summer said, because it didn't-- it had stopped stinging sometime in the afternoon. "Were you mad at me?"
Mama shook her head, and ruffled Summer's hair. "No, sweetheart. Just at your teacher."
"Why?" Summer asked, but Mama only shook her head.