|
2007-02-03 - 6:32 p.m. I am in the teepee in Mrs. May�s kindergarden classroom and Mandy Billiard is in there with me. We�ve been learning about Indians and earlier we made headdresses out of turkey feathers that this kid Sparky's dad brought in. He killed the turkeys himself. That�s what Sparky said. After that, we had milk and now Mrs. May has let us do whatever we want. I raced for the teepee and Mandy Billiard came in after me. She wears glasses because one of her eyes is crooked, but she�s cute. She�s got dark hair cut short like Dorothy Hamill�s and she smells good, like some kind of candy. �What do you want to do?� Mandy asks. �I don�t know.� She reaches around me for the plastic bucket of dried corn. Indians ate a lot of hard corn. They ate popcorn and killed buffaloes. They lived in teepees. I don�t know any Indians. Mandy holds a handful of corn in front of me. �Take one and make a wish.� Mandy�s staring at the corn in her hand but I�m staring at her nose, which is little and has a scab on the tip from where a bug bit it. I have an idea. I take a kernel of corn and throw it out the hole in the teepee. I yell, �atomic bomb!� I started playing catch with Dad in the front yard this year and so I know how to throw. Also, I know what an atomic bomb is. Mandy laughs when I do this, so I do it again. �Atomic bomb!� Mandy squeals and throws what�s left in her hand out the hole in the teepee. �Atomic bomb! Atomic bomb!� The corn goes everywhere. Some of it goes under the shelves for toys like Legos. Some of it goes under the door to the girls� bathroom. Some of it goes all the way to Mrs. May�s feet. She walks over fast. She doesn�t usually walk like this. She leans over, poking her head in the teepee hole. �What do you think you�re doing?� She�s looking at Mandy. �He started it,� she says, pointing at me. �But I only threw a couple.� Mrs. May stares at me. My ears feel hot. �I�m sorry,� I say. �There is to be no more throwing of atomic bombs,� Mrs. May says. She straightens and leaves. Mandy leans in and kisses me on the cheek. She smells like sour apple Blow Pops. That�s it. That�s what she smells like.
|