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(aka Bike) Part 926 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
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“Fu–clipping heck–what on earth have you done to your hair?” Simon didn’t beat about the bush–unless it contained dirty nappies.
“Don’t you like it?” asked Julie who was looking for some positive responses and not getting them.
“On the Bride of Dracula, maybe–on my foster daughter–absolutely not. I take it, it’s one of those washout ones?”
“You mean temporary dyes?” I suggested.
“Yeah, whatever they call them.”
“Sadly no, it’s going to be with us for a few weeks or more.”
“Can’t they redo it, so it looks normal?” protested Simon.
“Simon, Julie is a teenager–they all do things like this.”
“Did you?” he threw back at me.
“No–but only because they wouldn’t let me.” It was an unfair question so I stretched the answer a bit beyond the truth. I’d certainly have done all sorts of things with my hair if I’d been allowed to as a teen. Although I suspect my dad would have been very cross about it, if I had.
“What about the wedding?”
“What about it?” I challenged, stepping in front of Julie.
“Well, we can hardly have a bridesmaid with hair like that, she’d stand out a mile.”
I heard Julie begin to sniff behind me–“Well maybe we’ll get them all done the same, and they could have black and red dresses.”
“You’re joking–aren’t you?”
“Simon, you concentrate on keeping your kilt straight and leave me to worry about my bridesmaids.”
He glowered at me and went off to wash his hands muttering as he went.
“He doesn’t like it–you don’t like it–I wish I hadn’t let Regan do it now.”
“Regan? Doesn’t she come to a sticky end in King Lear?”
“Sometimes I wish she had–I’m sorry, Mummy.”
I hugged her–“Don’t worry, kiddo, it’ll grow out eventually.”
“I don’t want any tea, Mummy–I don’t feel very hungry.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” I hugged her again, I’d now have to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t do anything silly. I would also have a few choice words with Simon later.
I cut and served the pizzas, saving some for Julie which I hid in the cupboard to stop the boys eating it. I had some toast with a mashed banana on, Stella was sipping water and eating dry biscuits in between swallowing aspirin and loperamide.
While they were still bickering over the last piece of pizza, I slipped upstairs to see where Julie was, she was lying on her bed, her eyes like pandas, where the makeup had run and been smudged, and she was reading the poetry book.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I said cheerily trying to lift the atmosphere a little.
“Hi, Mummy. You didn’t say you’d won this book.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“It said the prize was for poetry–did you write poems?”
“Sort of.”
“Did you write a poem to win this book?”
“I suppose I must have done–or an essay on poetry.”
“Can you remember any of your poetry?”
“I don’t think it was very good–you’d be better off sticking to the stuff in that book.”
“C’mon, Mummy–tell me one of yours.” She shook the book, “Oh, what’s this?” she said as a piece of paper floated out.
I knew what it was–the poem that won the prize–it was called, The Girl in the Mirror.
The Girl in the Mirror
I see her when I’m not looking–this girl.
She wanders through my dreams–
Dancing with my sleeping mind.
I look for her in my waking thoughts
But she’s never there–
Always aloof and evasive,
Avoiding my searching eyes
Like an image in a mirror
Never, never there.C.Watts Year 10. 1998
“It’s quite short isn’t it?” suggested Julie.
“Yes, thankfully.”
“It’s about you as Cathy, isn’t it?”
“Yes–but they didn’t know that.”
“Maybe–I doubt you were very convincing as a boy.”
“How about we talk about you, Missy–you’ve embarrassed me enough, or I have with my corny verse.”
“I think it’s a nice poem, it’s subtle.”
“I tend to think the best poetry is, which is why I don’t think much of mine but I was only about fifteen at the time.”
“You were younger than me, Mummy, and I couldn’t have written it.”
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror recently, Missy?”
“No, why?”
“You look like Kung fu Panda.”
“Oops.”
“Wash your face and I’ll warm up the pizza I kept back for you.”
“You are a very clever, Mummy.”
“Yes I am, so you lot had better watch out–hadn’t you?”
“Huh,” she smirked at me, “You’d better not mess with Kung fu Panda.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share that book or my pathetic poem with the others.”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.” I paused, “I won the prize for R.I. as well, ironic isn’t it?”
“What is, Mummy?”
“I won the prize for religious studies and no longer believe in anything.”
“I thought all angels believed in God?”
“Lets me out then, doesn’t it?”
“I still think you’re an angel, even if you don’t know it?”
“C’mon panda peepers, wash your face and I’ll warm up the pizza.”
“Mummy?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Will you read to me again tonight?”
“If I have time, Simon’s home, so I like to spend a little time with my husband.”
“Oh–alright–I s’pose it didn’t really matter.”
She was manipulating me; okay, she felt a bit down about her hair–but she must have known we wouldn’t like it. At the same time, she knows I don’t like to see her crying or upset. I suppose the increased hormones may be having some effect–I used to get very weepy when I started them.
I hadn’t thought about that poem for a long time. I got into a few scrapes because I had long hair–not just collar length, it was below my shoulders but it was always clean and tied back in a boy’s ponytail, with an elastic hair band. Used to drive my father crazy–‘You look like a bloody girl,’ crazy. I felt like a bloody girl–so at least I was being congruent.
At one time a gang of slobs–they didn’t have the brains to be bullies–found it amusing to remove the hair elastic, which meant my hair flowed free and got me into trouble.
“Watts, you’ve been told about your hair before.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered the headmaster.
“You argued very cogently that under equal opportunities boys should be allowed to have long hair. You got your way, and we allowed you to have long hair on the understanding that you’d keep it tied back. This isn’t tied back, is it?”
“It was, sir, the band must have come off it.”
“Well I suggest you carry a spare in that case, unless you want to wear the girl’s uniform?”
“I’ll carry a spare.” Actually, I’d like to wear the girl’s uniform, sir–but that would be tantamount to suicide.
“Here,” he threw me a bright pink scrunchie–“it was in lost property.”
I held it in disbelief, it was a pink frilly one.
“Is there a problem, Watts?”
“Um–it’s...”
“A hair band–is it not?”
“It’s a bit girly, sir.”
“And your hair isn’t?”
“No sir.” I was lying it was very girly–quite deliberately.
“Well, I think you’d better get some more like that one, Watts, then, perhaps you won’t lose them so easily. Do you understand–yes, pink and frilly–well put it on then.”
I gathered my hair behind me and pulled it through the scrunchie, then twisted the scrunchie and pulled it through again.
“Maybe if you pulled it higher up your hair, it wouldn’t fall out so easily.”
“This is how I usually wear it sir, no one has objected before.”
“Try it higher, if you will, Watts.”
I undid the scrunchie and pulled a ponytail higher up my head in a girl fashion, then pulled on the scrunchie.
“Yes, much better, wear it like that, Watts, less chance of it falling out.”
The humiliation I suffered for the next week was nearly enough to cause me to jump off the Clifton Bridge. I suspect my little stand against the forces of oppression made me public enemy number one. I was addressed as Miss Watts by the teachers and Charlotte by the students–the girls were as bad as the boys.
There was one exception–Siá¢n Griffiths–a Welsh girl, who walked part of the way home with me on the second day of my humiliation. “Givin’ you a hard time, are they?”
“Oh, hello, Siá¢n; yes they are–for two pins I’d jump off the bridge.”
“What for? Then they’d have won wouldn’t they? I admire your courage, Charlie. You stand out in the crowd already, do it proudly.”
“How d’you mean?” this was heady stuff.
“They’ve got you down as a pouf, so camp it up–wear makeup or get your ears pierced.”
“I’m not gay.”
“Does it matter–? They all think you are.”
“Do you think I’m gay, Siá¢n?”
“I dunno–if you say you’re not, that’s good enough for me–but you seem like a girl to me.”
I burst into tears and she had to help me to a nearby seat. I couldn’t talk for ages–not helped by an old lady walking past and asking, ‘If there was anything wrong girls?’
“No, she’s on her period,” said Siá¢n and the old woman walked off briskly.
“Why did you say that?” I sniffed.
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be silly–I’m a boy.”
“That’s news to me, I’ve never seen a boy in you–there isn’t one in there–is there?”
“Course there is,” I retorted then after some more sobs–“No, you’re right, I’m not really a boy.”
“So what you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know–I can’t do anything until I get away from home.”
“If I can help–c’mon, let’s get you home before you ruin your mascara.”
“Hey–I’m not wearing...”
“Joke, ’kay?”
I’ll never forget Siá¢n Griffiths, she was such a nice kid–although they moved away and I lost touch with her. She had loads of friends compared to my minuscule number of fellow lab rats, so talking with her was difficult but we managed it occasionally. If I’d had more support like hers, I’d have transitioned at Sussex–but then I’d have missed out on Tom’s enormous help. In the end, life has been good to me–so I shouldn’t complain and maybe could have a little more sympathy for Julie and her rather noticeable hair.
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Comments
Back asswards...
I know it's the reverse.... but she could always use a batch of the temp-wash-out hair dye, to cover the punk-do for the wedding!
This is a first for me! :-) to have a first comment on bike!
Love everything you write dear!
May your muse become a mutant, one who never gets old, and then can write forever!
({[Huggles)}]
Pattie B
Well, time for a wig
What else can you do? Simon is too young to be a father to a teenage girl I think and reacted poorly. Yes, it was pretty boneheaded, but think of how to solve the problem also would help.
Kim
Bike pt 926
Simon is reacting like any daddy would when their princess has feet of clay,
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Always an education...
...reading the daily dose of Bike, that is. Thank you Angharad and Bonzi for making each episode entertaining and educational.
Stella was sipping water and eating dry biscuits in between swallowing aspirin and loperamide.
Loperamide: “An opiate drug which inhibits peristalsis and is used to treat diarrhoea.†[SOED6]
Peristalsis: “The involuntary muscular movement of the intestines and some other tubular organs by which their contents are propelled along, consisting of waves of alternate circular constrictions and relaxations.†[SOED6]
Well, that must have been some bender that Stella tied on. I'm looking forward to a conversation between Cathy and Stella about the ‘date.’
Pretty Squiffy
Bike Archive
Bike Resources
Julie's hairdo...
...is actually a nicely creative exploration of her own femininity, as women have this license as a rule, especially young women, who are newly kicking against the pricks.
And good on Cathy for sticking up for Julie's rights at last, despite her immediately previous lapsarian digression into conventional morality.
Cheers,
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Hair today, gone tomorrow.
And that's what's likely to happen if too many adults get on Julie's case. Angharad, tell Cathy to leave the kid alone. She's going to have to change a hell of a lot more than just hair if she's to fulfill her life. And as for Simon well he's just doing the narrow censorious scot thing. Give him a kick. He deserves it!
Has Cathy never heard of wigs? It's only hair for heaven's sake! It was meant to be grown dyed and styled wasn't it. Why else is it there, (and don't give me some lame excuse about insulation for the head or protection from the sun.)
Hair is our crowning glory, long may it grow!!!
Beverly Taff.
Wouldn't It Be Something
Wouldn't it be something if Cathy and Sian could meet up with each other again? You have to think that maybe she has seen Cathy on the Nature films and publicity posters for the bank and even the YouTube video. Hopefully, they can find a temporary dye for Julie's hair during the wedding.At least Julie cares about what other people feel about it. It is nice that Cathy stands up for her even if she doesn't agree with the way her hair looks.
I wondered too
If Cathy might decide to try to look up the girl who supported her in school. Sounds like this girl helped make sure she didn't jump off the bridge. (not sure how close she was to that but having a friend had to help)
Good for Cathy. She and Simon may not like what Julie did to her hair but Cathy is showing her that she still loves her. For someone in Julie's shakey state, that has to mean a lot. Where did Cathy learn to be such an understand mom (along with being a superhero).
Well, I think Julie might
Well, I think Julie might have the best solution by having all the girls get the same hair colors and dresses to match. They just need to use wash out dye for the younger girls. With all the really horrid bridesmaid dresses out there; Black, Red, and Pink, might not be so bad if the design and layout of the colors are proper. Say Black background with Red and Pink flowers of some sort, maybe Roses. ;) Jan
Two things
1) While the poem wasn't the greatest ever written, at least in context -- knowing Cathy as we do by now -- it was easily good enough for a few tears.
2) I'm already looking forward to meeting Siân.
And as an extra third comment, after Cathy's reaction yesterday it was nice to see her jump right to Julie's defense.
Loved the little
insight into Cathy's schooldays, Angharad.... Maybe we could see more of Siân in flashback's of Cathy's previous life, She certainly seems to have been a positive figure....Unlike some of the other kids....Mind you their behaviour is hardly surprising when you look at how the headmaster treated the young Charlie, Hardly set a good example did it!!
Kirri
Subtle Changes
Keep up the superb work Auntie!
=^.^=
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I wish I'd...
had a friend like Siân, but then, I might have had a very different life. No, while I'd like friends like her now (I mean local friends - I have long distance friends that accept me, and more), I'd not give up some of what I've gotten out of life (a wonderful wife & two wonderful daughters, for example)...
Julie's not to smart, trying to come between Cathy & Simon - even if accidentally. But then, kids do try to get their mom's attention - the world revolves around them, doesn't it? Why worry about that "guy" that pays many of the bills too.
Hopefully things smooth out, a little. :-)
I do understand Simon and Cathy's "angst" at the "hair" bit... Luckily our younger daughter used "wash out" die, when she did it to herself... Funny part was that she used cheep costume bit - to turn her blonde hair red - ended up with red skin for about a week - after the die washed out of her hair. (just the spots where it sprayed on).
I loved reading about Charlie's literary efforts. Mine had a far worse result, and as a result, I stopped writing for 35 years. I'm glad Cathy at least got support there.
Thanks,
Annette
hair
Well I don't think Cathy's reaction is all that surprizing and prob. typical of a mom, after initial shock, she seemed to calm down quite alot. remember Cathy was pretty much a wallflower & low profile. We've already seen that Julie isn't one.- 1st dresed as trashy when 1st met, then in typical a little more flamboyant than I suspect Cathy may ever would of worn.
Simon, is generally ultra conserative...still there's that initial shock for him also. I'm sure between Cathy & Stella will set him straight on Teen girls & what they wear. IF NOT he forgets he's got 3 more up & coming teen girl & 2 boys....he'll learn rofl
Julie
Expressing herself is not a bad thing.
Like I said before, it is a good learning experience, especially since she forgot about the wedding.
Wigs work, and woman do it all the time.
Bike 926 - Best episode so far and maybe one for toe-dippers
To see Cathy drawn coherently at several different stages of life alongside the other characters makes this a special, if weepy episode.
Rhona McCloud