Standing Room
Opal Fenster wanted an aisle seat, but they were all taken. Opal insisted on sitting at the edge of most anything and could not be bothered to crawl over feet and legs only to land in what surely felt like prison.
Ms. Esterholt, the principal of Table Mesa Junior High School, stood at the podium tapping on a microphone.
“Be orderly now. Find your seats. The program is about to begin.”
“Hey, Opal,” a voice called out. “Come sit by me.”
Opal knew that voice. Jamie Baxter.”I saved you a seat,” Jamie called out, waving her hands in the air.
Opal wished Jamie would stop saving places for her: in the cafeteria, in homeroom, in the library. Opal liked Jamie just fine, but a saved seat felt like an obligation, and Opal did not want to be obliged to anyone.
A loud screech filled the auditorium. Opal covered her ears. She looked across the crowd to see all the other students and teachers with their hands covering their ears, too. “They all look like that man in the painting,” Opal thought. In Art History Class last week, Mr. Forrester had shown them a famous painting called The Scream by Edvard Munch.
“Sorry about the feedback,” Ms. Esterholt said. “There now. Better?”
Jamie still waved at Opal, but Opal shook her head and opted instead to stand at the back, leaning against the wall. She noticed Mr. Forrester stood next to her, his arms crossed. He wore his familiar v-neck sweater and corduroy pants.
“Hello, Opal,” he whispered. “I see you’re a stander, too.”
Opal wasn’t entirely sure what Mr. Forrester meant. But to be polite, she nodded.
“It’s easier,” he continued, “than crawling over all those legs and feet.”
Opal’s eyes got wide. She looked up into Mr. Forrester’s eyes. “That’s exactly right,” she whispered.
He smiled, gave Opal a nod, and put his finger up to his mouth.
Opal could barely contain her discovery that there were others, like her. There was a category. A place she belonged. “A stander,” she thought. “That’s what I am.”
Comments
I love this. A full story, in a small package.
Jane Kokernak 18 December 09
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I like this one. It made me smile at the end — kind of like an LOL, but subtler.
Chris Tebbetts 17 December 09