A Pinch and a punch for the first of the month and all that, so enticing particularly to schoolkids, but it was irresistible to bullying bastards that delighted in it also being his birthday. The first of April had always been tinged with sour memories.
He had been an underling throughout his school years and was ridiculed for his lack of statue and physical prowess. It wasn’t that he was slow or under-intelligent, he was quite the opposite, but he saw no point in being clever when he was hanging on a clothes hook in the school corridor whilst the other kids made mockery of him and then ran away.
It was he and Rosa’s third anniversary today and she was not the kind of woman to be trifled with. Why did he do it? Why stay with Rosa, why visit a mother that he couldn’t even recall meeting until he was eight.
He lifted the handmade implement he found perfect for breaking and entering. A clever tip he’d learned of in prison. He slid the tool up the side of the doorway and with a sharp jolt ruptured the locking mechanism. Rising, he learned forward and pushed the door ajar. Standing in the doorway he surveyed the room, sighed then slightly dropped his shoulders before making his retreat.
In the early morning he was sitting in a park, legs outstretched, his torso propped up against a tree. His gaze was lowered, and he was lost in his thoughts and had certainly done some napping in between.
‘Hey Mister’, the voice brought him back from his musing.
‘I think you’ve dropped some money’ the young boy said as he tilted his head in the direction of the man’s feet. With that the boy was gone, keen to catch up to his schoolfriends.
The man muttered, half to himself ‘Yeah, April Fool’.
He knew he had to face Rosa empty handed and see a mother for he knew not why. Hoisting himself up, he dusted himself off and then he saw it, that vibrant yellow gem, half folded sticking out from under the heel of his boot.
He bent and collected it before straightening and propelling himself forwards, onwards and upwards, he would not be a fool anymore.
It made me remember, not fondly, Sevie Bip Day. In the U.S. the beginning of High School starts for many in the 7th grade. If the area is heavily populated, there is a Middle School, which also has 7th graders as the new kids on the block. The first day of school each and every 7th grader goes home with a sore noggin from being bopped in the head!