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This is short story I wrote. Oddly enough, after all the stories I have written about on my blog sharing this one makes me the most nervous. Sharing this story makes me nervous because I am writing it for the reader rather than for me. I would love to hear your feedback; good – bad – or indifferent.

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It was a simple dress, no frills or laces. The collar was high circling the girls’ neck and a one inch tie attached to the front of the dress wrapped around to meet in a floppy bow in the back.

The girl had a gentle smile with a quiet voice to match.  Her eyes were brown, not like mud, they had a shimmer like the reflection off a hot cup of black coffee on a sunny day.  Her Native American heritage was recognizable in her skin color and facial features.

The school day was like any other. She was standing in the school yard surrounded by boys sprawled out along the walkway playing marbles.  The area around her seemed faded in black and white compared to the sky blue color of the dress.

This was the day of the annual eye exam and lice check.  All the school children lined up in a straight line as they waited to enter the nurse’s office. Standing behind her, I marveled at how perfectly her ponytails were situated on her head. White ribbons were wrapped her perfectly combed hair into ponytails held just above her ears and parallel to her shoulders. Even in ponytails, her hair was long, falling well below her waistline.  I can remember thinking it must have taken her mother ages to smooth all of the bumps and creases then pulling the hair tight to each side leaving a straight line down the middle of her scalp.

One by one the children entered the nurse’s office. At one station, we were asked to hold a popsicle stick with a round white paper over our eye while reading the letters on the wall several paces away.  At the second station, a woman with gloves would grab our head pushing it toward our chest than shift her fingers through our hair. “NEXT”, she would call out as she was giving the poor victim a push toward the door signaling that their turn was over and they could lift their head and move along to class.

At some point during the day the girl in the blue dress was called back to the nurse’s office.  She made her way through the row of desks from the back of the room. The entire classroom of children turned to watch her; she wore the embarrassment of having attention called to her on her face in shades of reds.

The girl rejoined the class on the playground after lunch where the teasing ensued. One tormenting classmate ran about informing the other school children that the girl in the blue dress had lice. The bulk of the class could not be bothered by the raucous, they seemed far more focused on the game of marbles then the spreading of a rumor.

The girl in the blue dress began to cry. She stood perfectly still unable to muster the defenses to protect her feelings from her classmate.

All the school children were gathered by their teacher and led like a family of ants back to the classroom.  The girl in the blue dress sat at her desk muffling her tears.

The typically cheerful teacher sternly called the tormentor to the front of the class. She stood before her classmates frightened and embarrassed, every eye in the classroom focused on her. She now realized how the girl in the blue dress must have felt standing in the school yard being teased.  She tearfully apologized for the teasing and hurt she caused.

Standing before her classmates for what seemed like ages, the teacher asked how she would feel if it had been her that was teased. She had no time to answer before the teacher placed her hand on her shoulder guiding her toward her desk then launching into a lesson about kindness and friendship.

 The girl in the blue dress sat quietly with her head down.

The tormenting classmate sat quietly wishing she could disappear.

I wonder if the girl in the blue dress remembers that day as often and clearly as I do?

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