Demon in High Socks, Short Story in Parts, Part 2
Demon in High Socks
photo attribution
Revelling in her victory Mrs. Sullivan wasn’t done. Not only must an apology be offered but penance performed. “You’ll show Thad you can play like a civilized child, not just a demon in high socks. You’ll let him ride your new bike?”
from part one of Demon in High Socks
Maggie looked at Thad and then her mother. She opened her mouth to protest but then thought better when she looked at Mrs. Sullivan’s stern-set eyes. Thad didn’t have a bike. He jumped at the chance.
“Oh, yes! Can I mother?”
“That would be nice,” Mrs. Demeere agreed.
Maggie narrowed her eyes. She didn’t want to let anyone ride her bike, never-mind this cry-baby neighbour boy. But she knew her mother wouldn’t accept any further complaints. More to the point, she simply couldn’t bare another public spanking.
“Come along, then,” Maggie said to Thad, mimicking the exasperated tone her mother often took with her.
“I mean it, Maggie,” Mrs. Sullivan warned. “Play nice.”
Maggie led Thad to the backyard.
“Wait here,” she told him.
She disappeared into a shed and moments later emerged with a brand-new, shiny red bike. She saw the joyful anticipation on his face. How pathetic, she thought. Well, I’m going to make the little suck work for it.
“I was thinking. I’m not sure you can handle my bike. It’s pretty big and you’re small, except for your head, which is why I hit you with the apple. It’s wasn’t my fault. I meant to miss. Truth … but after I threw the apple your head seemed to grow even bigger. It was like it wanted to get hit.” Maggie smiled at the effect her words were having. “Your big head might make you fall off my bike.”
Thad winced. His dad was always teasing him about his head. He wanted to defend himself but had no idea how. The only thing he could think was to make up. If he could make Maggie like him maybe she’d stop.
“I’m sorry I told on you. I didn’t know your mother would spank you. My mom never spanks me.”
“What makes you think she spanked me?” Maggie countered.
“We heard.”
Maggie puffed out her chest.
“I don’t know what you heard but my mother wouldn’t spank me. I’d tell my dad. Then she’d be sorry. Yessiree.”
The truth, her dad was rarely home and when he was he had little time for his daughter who he still wished was a boy. Thad opened his mouth to argue but changed his mind. Instead he showed wisdom way beyond his meagre years. If Maggie wanted to pretend she hadn’t been spanked what did he care? He shrugged.
Maggie knew she’d been spanked; she knew Thad knew she’d been spanked; so why was he playing along? He’s afraid. He’s smarter than I thought. Maggie warmed a little. But still she didn’t want him riding her bike and still she wanted revenge. It just wouldn’t do to let him win; it just wouldn’t do.
“If you fall on the sidewalk,” she said. “You could wreck my bike. We should go to Willard’s field so if you fall, my bike will be safe and you won’t crack your big head open.”
For the first time she smiled and agreeably, Thad nodded.
“I’ll ride there and you can run behind.”
Maggie climbed onto the seat and then she was off at break-neck speed. Thad had to work to keep up. Maggie got a kick out of going slower and then faster, letting him catch up and then racing ahead. She took the longest route her evil-maniacal brain could think of but eventually they arrived at Willard’s Field. Racing like a red demon, she biked onto the field of knee-high grass. Thad continued to pursue. They were fast approaching Cooper Creek which ran alongside the field. Maggie couldn’t resist the chance to show off. She placed one foot on the ground and skidded to a stop alongside the creek. If things had gone as planned Thad would have indeed been impressed. All was foiled by one unassuming bush root. Maggie stumbled and plummeted forward. She fell face-forward but her bike slid backward and down the embankment of the creek. A splash sounded as her plump face hit the dirt.
Thad ran to her. Maggie sat up and pushed him aside.
“Where’s my bike?” she hollered, a mouth full of mud.
Thad couldn’t help himself; he laughed.
“What are you laughing at … you big stupid … oh.” She spit out the mud with her words. “It’s not funny! Find my bike.”
With her hair awry and her face filled with rage, Maggie took on the frightening. Thad sobered. He jumped to his feet and looked over the bank. Maggie appeared at his side. There was her brand-new, no-longer-shiny red bike, barely visible, submerged in six feet of muddy creek water.
Part 3
Demon in High Socks was originally published in Monsters. Click on the photo below for more information.
Poor Maggie… seems she’s her own worst enemy.
She is a child who is smarter than her parents and not-yet guided to compassion.
Yeah, that’s an issue with very bright children, especially when they’ve already figured out that they are smarter than the people around them. I have a similar issue with Gray. He knows he’s smarter than most of the grownups in his life. But, as I keep carping at him, he may be more intellectually gifted than most, but those adults still have decades of real world life experience on him and wisdom to impart from that experience. I always tell him, “No matter how old you are, we [his dad and I] will ALWAYS be forty years of experience ahead of you!”
I don't know if you remember but I was once a substitute teacher and have dealt with a lot of gifted children, some with atrocious behavioural issues. Grey doesn't sound all that bad. Maybe just wilful ... these children were downright disrespectful. I am pretty clever in that I have a large pool of knowledge and understanding to draw upon and think very quickly on my feet. This means I could often 'outsmart' those in a verbal discussion who might actually have a higher overall IQ. I am a super quick processor and see connection usually before others. I could usually win them over ... because I gained their respect. Perhaps, Grey needs to understand there are all kind of intelligences and gifts. He is part of the overall wonder of it and may have a very specialized gift but he is as dependent on these other intelligences as they are on him. For example, without a mother who is gifted in nurture, he would not grow as well physically or mentally. He wouldn't be as smart, maybe not gifted at all. More appreciation of what others provide for him might help some and a clear understanding that you are the parent and he is the child. His preference is important and should be taken into consideration but those who provide for him get to make the final decisions.
My child working more on being a comic genius ... trust me ... you have it easier. But things go a lot easier for me when I take my own advice and appreciate my little Jim Carrey in the making:)
Don’t get me wrong… Gray is a wonderful person. (And, it’s G-r-a-y because it’s short for “Graham.”) Even his teachers keep telling me what a “great person” and a “wonderful human being” he is. But, yes, he is willful in the extreme. I don’t think he sees himself as smarter than me except in his tech realm – he is rather a phenom; his tech-skills reputation is how he got into the Health Science Academy for high school.
Still, I do see him being sometimes disrespectful in his willfulness, especially with others. I think he’s also often careful with me because my health worries him.
Actually, the biggest problem he’s been facing is that his IEP hasn’t grown with him as he’s been evolving into his maturity. It’s still essentially the same program as he began with in the second grade. IEP is an Individualized Educational Program; in his case, it was structured to address his ADHD. Unfortunately, the program still treats him the same way it did when he was seven – he’s 14 now. The IEP team was hyper focused on his every move and jumped on him to quash him at every turn, even seizing his tech and impairing his functionality in school. They don’t have textbooks and half the time there’s not even paper assignments. It’s almost exclusively tech now. But, the IEP team seems to act as if the tech is some invasive assault that they must put down. Admittedly, he remains impulsive and distractible, but is developing what seems to me to be an appropriate system for him to self-discipline, rather than the system his IEP has always sought to impose upon him – even punishing him for trying to organize his own way. On top of his IEP infantilizing him, I’m afraid there’s at least an unconscious bias against his Middle Eastern heritage. Certainly, he’s dealing with bullying over it from other students.
At any rate, I’ve pulled him from the IEP because it had become detrimental to his emotional wellbeing and his academic success. He felt like they were trying to crush him. And, I have to say, that from my perspective, it did seem like they were trying to break him, to make him conform to an infantilized, march to their drum ideal. I tried to work with them and not make waves – he begged me most of the time not to intervene, though he’s been miserable in the program for over a year. He’s the same way about the bullying. He believed my intervention can only make things worse – classic bullied-kid response. I just couldn’t stand back any longer. I’m glad I pulled him. He seems to have had a weight lifted off him.
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I remember my childhood on a bicycle. The images of the words transported me when I learned to ride a bicycle.
Great. Thank you, Cordero:)
Ah, the prized bike of our youth. I think you remember well being young. Your dialogue is a lot of fun, and rings so true in the world of the shorter folks. Now I have to wait another day, to see what happens to the nice red bike. Well done, and congratulations on being Curied.
Thank you, DD:) I spend a lot of time with the shorter set:) Unless you have gone off to bed ... you don't have to wait. The conclusion is already up:)
Good post ... Thanks
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