The Courage of Violet Hue

“ Listen, Charlotte, I don’t want to fight.”

“ Who said anything about fighting? I’m just going to kick your butt all over this field.”

The other girls stifled their snickering laughter. When their hands covered their mouths, Violet understood she was alone. They’d be no help to her.

“What did I ever do to you, Charlotte? Why don’t you like me?”

“You’re a teacher’s pet, you had to go and tell.”

“Yeah, teacher’s pet!” One of the girls colluded.

“You don’t even know what happened,” Violet shot back.

“So?”

“Go ahead, Charlotte. She’ll never tell on you again! Push her down!”

“You do and you’ll be sorry.”

They all turned to see Amber, standing with both hands on her hips. She stared Charlotte down hard. 

“C’ Mere Charlotte.”

Charlotte remained rooted were she stood. She looked at the two girls by her side.

“Did you hear me? I said come here. Violet might not fight you, but I will.” The two latecomers to the tiff quickly quieted. “You afraid?”

“No.” Charlotte looked at the two colluders by her side. Nothing.

“Then what’s the problem?” Amber stepped forward. “Look, leave Violet alone. She hasn’t done anything to you, so stop bothering her.”

“Or what?” said Charlotte, suddenly emboldened.

“Or like I said, you’ll be sorry,” replied Amber, taking another step in Charlotte’s direction. Charlotte faltered, stepping back.

The tension was suddenly slackened by what appeared to be a big swirling ball of dust heading toward the girls. Emerging from the center of the dust ball was Mr. Greene’s old, dented pick-up truck. He’d pulled up along side the group and stopped.

“Hi, Mr. Greene,” smiled Charlotte.

Mr. Greene said nothing, just gawked at the gaggle of girls for a long moment. His squinty eyes and sharp nose resembled the shriveled up visage of a Jack-O-Lantern a month after Halloween. His wrinkled, leathery, pockmarked skin added to the effect.

“You girls okay?” he asked.

“No.”

“Yes.”

The simultaneous answer from Amber and Charlotte raised Mr. Greene’s eyebrows. Violet was amazed to see that he actually had brown eyes under those two big bushy caterpillars above them.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” answered Charlotte.

Amber caught Violet’s eye, and motioned toward the field with a neat little jerk of her head. Violet nodded her comprehension. As Charlotte smiled, batted her eyes and made up sugary stories to Mr. Greene, Amber and Violet slowly, silently inched aside. The two other girls stood near the truck, clueless and helpless, not really sure what they were