Once upon a time, there
was a schoolgirl named Little Blue Running Shoes. Her parents – and the rest of society –
expected her to wear frilly frocks, shiny shoes, and ribbons in her perfectly
brushed and curled pigtails. Everyone expected her to sit quietly in her
corner, follow directions, never talk back, and never ever EVER think for
herself. Most important of all, she was never allowed outside the fenced in
schoolyard.
“You must never venture into the unknown,” her
protectors said. “It is unsafe. There are wolves, strange dreams, and unusual
urges that could mire and frustrate you and change you forever on the other
side of that chain link fence.”
So each day at recess,
Little Blue Running Shoes spent her time staring at the street and the hills
and valleys beyond from behind the chain
link fence, sometimes pressing so hard into the metal that the fence left marks
on her ruddy, unwrinkled cheeks. Most of her classmates seemed content to stay
within the confines of the fenced in yard, playing hopscotch, jump rope, or running
in circles from the schoolboys who chased them and tried to snap their bra
straps because they thought it was funny
even though the girls shrieked and told them it wasn’t. “Snap turtle,” the boys
would shout each time they caught another.
Sometimes she would
look down at her frilly frock, and her shiny shoes with their blue laces and comfortable
foot beds with thick rubber soles and think, “Why do we all have these shoes
for running if we're only allowed to use them for walking or jumping rope or playing hopscotch?” And when the recess
bell would chime, she and many of the other girls would run inside the perimeter of
the school yard for as long as they could, under the pretense of lining up before the teacher yelled for them to
get over here or they'd be sorry.
One day, all the
students were lined up against the school yard fence and told that they would
be participating in fitness tests. These tests involved running many different
distances. “Why do we need these tests if we’re never allowed to run because
the outside world is full of wolves and strange dreams and unusual urges?”
said Little Blue Running Shoes.
The teacher glared at
her. “First, nice girls don’t question authority. How will you ever find a husband
if you question,” the teacher said. “Second, it’s important to stay fit so that
you can cook and clean and chase children all day when you become a mother and
so that you can cheer your sons and husbands at their sports games.”
Many of the boys nodded
in agreement. Enthusiastically. Many of the girls rolled their eyes. Enthusiastically.
“Plus, the running helps us
escape from the boys when they try to snap our bra straps,” piped up another
school girl further down the line. Her running shoes were orange.
“Yes, I mean be quiet,”
said the teacher.
For the running tests,
the genders were separated. The boys were taken outside the school yard, into
the world of wolves, dreams, urges. The girls were allowed to watch the boys
from a distance – practice for later on in life, the teacher said, while they
ran circles inside the yard.
Little Blue Running
Shoes felt quite grumpy at first at the unfairness of it all, but noticed that the more she ran, the better
her mood. Surveying her classmates, she saw their smiles, as they high-fived
one another and got faster and faster. It seemed as though many of the girls shared
in her endorphin high.
That afternoon at
recess, some students played hopscotch and others jumped rope. Many boys commenced
their bra strap game, chasing their female classmates around the yard and
shouting, “Snap turtle,” whenever they captured their prey, which was getting more
difficult because the girls were getting quite fit and fast.
Meanwhile, Little Blue Running Shoes stood in her usual
spot, at the edge of the school yard, face pressed against the fence, imagining
the outside world and doing her best to ignore the one in which she was trapped.
Other girls soon joined her. Then even more.
Suddenly, Little Blue
Running Shoes heard the hideous sound of desperate panting. “Is there a wolf in
the schoolyard,” she wondered. Turning, she saw a boy, red-faced and sweaty,
reach out to grab at her bra strap.
“Snap Tur – ouch!”
“Don’t you dare,” she
said, slapping his arm away. “I deserve better.” Nearby, students stopped their
games and turned to watch.
“Yeah. Leave her alone,”
said one of the girls she’d raced with that morning.
“Leave ALL of us alone,”
said another one of the girls.
Before she knew it, all
of the girls in the school yard were chanting, “Leave us alone.”
Bewildered, the snap
turtle boys backed away until the girls had pinned them all against the chain
link fence. With nowhere else to go, the
girls looked at one another as though to say, “What do we do next?”
Shrugging, Little Blue
Running Shoes said, “How about if we go for a run? I’ve had enough of this
bullshit. Let’s go that way.” She pointed to the road outside the fence.
“Awesome idea,” said Little
Orange Running Shoes. The other girls followed suit, though some chose other
paths once they exited the yard.
“I always wanted to
study art,” one girl said, heading east toward Paris.
“I’ve always dreamed of
working on Wall Street,” said another, veering toward the bright lights of a
big city to the west.
“One day, I plan on writing
a best-selling novel,” said a third,
starry-eyed young lady, as she turned onto a narrow trail lined with rocks and
broken glass and a smelly swamp filled with quicksand and alligators beyond that.
“Don’t quit your day
job,” a friend called out.
They laughed, and
wished each other well as they scattered in directions as varied as they were.
“You’ll be sorry,”
yelled the snap turtle boys as a steady parade of girls made their way toward the cities, oceans, hills, and valleys beyond.
“I doubt that very
much.” Little Blue Running Shoes called back.
And she was right.
Nanowrimo #6. folk tale form
