Twelve
Avis
Yarbrough
Derrick
was pissed. He sat on his bed with candy bars,
pennies and an assorted other kinds of sweets surrounding
him. Derrick was dividing the candy in individual
piles. The chocolate bars in one pile, sour candy
in the other etc. Derrick turned his head occasionally
to stare at the Batman mask that he had tossed
into the corner after he had come home tricky treating.
He had not wanted to be Batman but Ken, that is
Ken’s Barbie.
Derrick
had imaged himself as Ken with a single minded
intensity since he was studying for his school’s
spelling bee. As Ken, he had envisioned his jet-black
hair covered up with a blond wig. He would have
worn a starch white shirt, and blue slacks with
loafers. Instead, he had been practically suffocated
in a black plastic mask that made him sweat like
a pig. Derrick just turned twelve in June, so he
knew this would probably be his last chance to
get free candy and he was graceful. He really was,
but dressing up as Ken would have made this final
Halloween sublime. When his mother had brought home
the mask, and presented it to him like it was
freaking gold instead of freaking crap Derrick could
have cried.
“I
want to be Ken for Halloween,” said Derrick.
His mother had looked at him strangely and said,
“Your twelve now, you don’t want to give people
the wrong impression.”
“What impression is that? That I rather be Ken
for Halloween then Batman,” said Derrick.
“Wanting to be Batman is normal for a young boy,”
said Derrick’s mother.
“What so great about being normal,” asked Derrick.
“It makes life easier.”
His mother had refused to change her mind, so Derrick
had wore the mask, and everybody pleased but him.
Derrick opened a candy bar and wondered what people’s
reactions would have been if they opened the door
and saw him dressed as Ken. Would they have been
amused, shocked or surprised, or would they just
have pretended that he was normal?
