Pave the Way
I’m going to be honest, this is a very rough piece. It came into my head one morning and I had to jot it down quickly. Thanks for reading.
Word count: 761
Pave the Way
For Terry:
Who dresses as Santa Claus at work during the holidays
to bring smiles to little faces
(and big ones)
The year: 1977.
The place: The Happiest Place on Earth.
The girl: Gorgeous, and shining with joy. Her hand in his warm, soft, squeezing every now and then as she looks around her. Her hair, shimmering green and blue in the sunlight, a drastic change that he’d loved instantly the first time he saw it.
This truly was the happiest place on Earth, but it wasn’t due to any Disney marketing. No cartoon-inspired scenery or character-shaped pastry could make him happier than the girl at his side did.
Being by her side, wherever that happened to be, was the happiest place on Earth.
The crowds are happy, too. Children pulling on the hands of their parents, rushing to see everything at once. Their little faces smiling, shining with the same joy doubled. Trebled. Ten times as strong, because they were ten times as small, and the joy bubbled over so much more easily in a child.
The hand that fell on his shoulder, hard. Determined. And the voice the same, perhaps even a bit angry.
“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to come with me.”
“Is something wrong?” She squeezes his hand more tightly as they turn, suddenly worried. He squeezes her back, but doesn’t look her way.
The hand belongs to a man in a suit. He wears a badge, and a radio clipped to his belt, and he has his hand on his belt as though he’s used to carrying a gun. “People are beginning to complain. You’re scaring the kids.”
People are beginning to look, because they’ve been stopped.
He can see the faces, now. The parents, angry and offended. The children, curious and a little afraid. But they can’t be afraid of him. Nor of her. She, with the blue and green hair that children stare at.
“Complaining about what?” Her voice, now, hard and angry.
“It’s your hair, miss. I’m afraid we’re a family company, and we don’t allow--”
“We paid admission.” He holds up his hands. Now isn’t the time for a fight.
Relief, as the guard loosens his defensive posture, and the crowds begin to part. The show is over. “We’ll reimburse you. I’m terribly sorry, folks.”
They leave The Happiest Place on Earth feeling like the scum of it.
---
It happens in restaurants and shops.
She wears her colorful hair proudly, a badge of honor that marks her as a target. A target for fear, and anger. And hate. More even than her sex, her hair marks her as someone to be judged.
Managers make them leave stores, before they can make their purchases.
Hosts turns them away at restaurants before they’re even offered a seat.
It’s easier, for most of them, to turn her away before someone complains.
And people complain. They complain loud, and they complain long. They think she’s a deviant. A criminal. Her blue and green hair marks her as an outsider. Not one of their own. And in this society of same-minded people, anyone daring to buck the norm is outcast.
He’s certain she would survive on her own, but he’s glad he can be there to help her along the way.
---
The year: 2018.
The place: A small town, where he’s lived the last twenty years in peace and quiet.
His hair and beard have gone white. He’s put on more than enough pounds, thanks to the cookies his grandchildren help him make. And he works, not because he has to, but because he likes to. He likes to see the faces, some changing every day, others becoming familiar over time. He likes to get out of the house, to give himself something to do to fill his days.
His wife works too, so they make every day off together count. Her hair isn’t green and blue, hasn’t been for a long time, but he remembers.
And he smiles when he sees the girl with a blue mohawk. He smiles, and he remembers. He makes sure he tells her how much he digs her style, because he remembers what it was like. He remembers being kicked out of places because they dared to look a little different. He remembers people staring, people whispering behind their hands.
He might not look like one of them any more, with his big belly and his corporate-formal-look.
But he remembers, and he’s glad to see a new generation blooming, thriving, growing. And finding new systems to buck.
