Storymania - Touchdowns, Dandelions, And The Hawk by Steven T

Touchdowns, Dandelions, And The Hawk
Steven T

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      I should’ve never let her talk me into it, but her voice was so innocent and I just couldn’t say no to her. It's too late now. I’m walking down the school hallway with Sharon toward what promised to be a less than thrilling experience. “Look Andy, the Social Worker told our group a week ago that today was Bring-your-best-friend-day. And when I told you about it yesterday, you said you would come with me.” Sharon dragged me along with her wherever she went. I’m sort of like her teddy bear in a way, her security blanket. But by now, this certain Teddy bear/Security blanket is getting pretty worn out and tired of going with Sharon on her little exhibitions. I want to go into retirement. I tried to reason with her.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” I said. “Some kid was asking me if I had seen the Cubs game last night and I said yes. It just so happened that you were popping your all-important-question at that exact same moment and you thought I had said yes to your question, When in reality, I didn’t. See what I’m saying?” I asked. This whole incident occurred in the lunchroom yesterday. “Not really.” Sharon replied. Sometimes I think Sharon has the IQ of a raccoon.

Sharon has been going to the school social worker for some time now. Sharon said she’s been going to the SW (my “cool” abbreviation for social worker) ever since her parents divorce a couple of years ago. She goes to the “Temple of feelings” every Tuesday during her lunch period. Sharon hates it. Her and the SW have been bitter rivals ever since Sharon’s very first session. Apparently the SW started Sharon off by giving her everyone’s favorite psychological test, the Raw Shock. The SW kept showing Sharon the standard pictures of inkblots and asking what the pictures looked like to her. Sharon kept giving the standard answer: Inkblots! The SW, as you can probably guess, didn’t like Sharon’s redundant answers and told her to leave and come back with a better attitude for their 2nd session next Tuesday.
That same night when I logged on to the net from my computer, I saw that Sharon had sent me an E-mail, fuming about how an ink blot is an ink blot, darn it! I E-mailed her back saying that SW’s hated obvious answers. Her responses to SW’s inkblots told the SW a lot about her personality. The next day after reading my E-mail, Sharon was excited, telling me that I had explained everything very clearly to her and that she’d try to give the SW the most confusing answers she could possibly think of whenever she pulled out the ink blots again. “I’m not going to let her know my personality. That old bat is going to have to use more than ink blots to make me open up!” Sharon yelled. “OK, Sharon, whatever.” I had said.
Sharon and the SW haven’t had any more confrontations since the ink blot incident, which brings you up to date and back to where I was earlier, trying to talk my way out of going to the SW with Sharon. “I don’t think it will be too bad.” Sharon reassured me. “But don’t be surprised if you have to do something weird. Last week we all had to act like our favorite vegetable. I told her I didn’t have a favorite vegetable, which was a mistake.” Sharon said. “Why?” I asked. “I had to end up acting like a cabbage. I really don’t want to go into the specifics of it.” With that, she dropped the subject. “Maybe I should swap the Coke I put in my lunch this morning with a can of V-8!” I cracked. Sharon laughed.
“It’s always tough to get through these sessions. You just have to act like you don’t want to share any of your feelings when she asks questions that she thinks will push your emotional buttons.” Sharon advised me.“How do you manage to pull that off?” I asked her, interested. “Well, since we get to eat our lunches in there, we always take a bite of our sandwiches or something else just as she’s about to ask us a question. She’s always saying how it’s impolite to talk with your mouth full, so we you that against her, see?” she asked. “Yeah. I got hand it to you that’s a great system you guys worked out.” I said. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t know the social workers name.
“What’s her name?” I asked Sharon. “Oh, it’s Mrs. Hawkins, sorry I didn’t tell you that earlier. “Is she weird?” I asked. “You don’t even know the half of it, she’s definitely got more than a couple screws loose up here.” Sharon said, pointing to her head. “Guess I’ll just have to see for myself when we get there, huh?” I said. “Here’s her office.” Sharon announced. We were standing in front of a blue door! I suddenly began to chicken out. “Are you sure we can go in there, Sharon? I mean the door is blue for crying out loud! This isn’t exactly how I envisioned spending my lunch period.” I told her. Then Sharon said something very unordinary. “Oh get in there, champ!” She said playfully. Champ? Where’d that come from? This Hawk lady must be really getting to her head! What’s going to happen to me if I go in there? Before I could say anything, Sharon shoved me trough the door, and into the clouds.
Or was it a room? It was a room! A room covered with sky wallpaper. I looked left and then right. White puffy clouds covered the walls. Get me outta here! Then I saw Mrs. Hawkins. She had yellow eyes and was wearing a purple sweatshirt with orange stripes across it. This is Mrs. Hawkins? “What’s with the sky wallpaper?” I whispered to Sharon. “She used to be an interior decorator. Then she got fired. She took it pretty hard.” “So she decided to go back to school to show the psychology world what she could do?” I asked. “Yep. People say that everyone at the school knew Mrs. H was nuts, but they passed her and gave her a degree because she wrote an award winning essay about how she was going to be the first of a “new breed of social workers” when she completed school.” Sharon replied. “Yeah, the first in a new breed of yellow eyed lunatics!” I joked. I said. She looks like she just escaped from the zoo! What’s with the yellow contacts?” Sharon jabbed me in the gut.
I stood at attention and stared straight into the eyes of the psycho hawk woman. I almost said “Want a field mouse for lunch, Mrs. H?” But I managed to keep my trap shut. “What’s your name?” she asked. I puffed up my chest and tried to act “cool”, something I’ve never been real good at, so I’ve stopped trying to perfect my routine. All I have in my bag of tricks right now is “hold-my-breath-until- I-turn- blue and hope for the best.” Sharon bailed me out. “This is my friend Andy Clannons, Mrs. Hawkins.” “ Oh yes, Andy. Sharon has told me before you are her best friend.” I nodded, my face turning purple. I let out a Woosh! Of air.
Mrs. Hawkins wrinkled her face. “Your breath smells awful!” She exclaimed. Darn it! I knew I should’ve had Whites for breakfast this morning instead of Sour cream and onion chips! I never have been good at first impressions. The first day of preschool my teacher asked me what my name was and I forgot! OK, back to the story.

“I understand this is bring-your-best-friend-to-a-social-worker session day.” I said, not sure what to say to Mrs. H after she wrinkled her face at me like I had never had a breath mint in my life. “Yes, sit down please.” She said. She said this in her normal tone of voice, one of those calm relaxed, yet irritating voices that all shrinks and social workers seem to develop. I haven’t been to any shrinks or social wokers, but I have seen them on PBS (Paid for by readers like you!) and on paid programming when channel surfing at 3 A.M. with a case of insomnia. But I knew better. I knew she wasn’t all calm and collected. I mean, my sour cream and onion breath almost made her lose her top! I’m sure all SW’s have pet peeves. Bad breath was obviously on Mrs. Hawkins’ list.
“There doesn’t seem to be any one else coming so I guess we can begin the session,” said Mrs. H. I noticed Sharon had taken a seat across from me. We were sitting on opposite ends of a large round yellow table with a gigantic smiley face smack dab in the middle of it. Boy do I feel happy now, I thought as my inner self let out a scream of joy. “You guys can get out your lunches. We always start out the session by eating our lunches. ” Said Mrs. H. I suddenly had a change in attitude. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. After all, I was only locked in a strange room about to eat lunch with my best friend and a mentally disturbed person with yellow eyes. It could be worse right? I mean, the sky wallpaper goes along beautifully with this yellow table of happiness. Maybe I’ll stay here forever… Snap out of it Andy, you and Sharon have to get outta here! I told myself.
I opened up my lunch box to see what my Mom had packed. A Coke, Fritos, and… A tuna fish meatloaf sandwich! I hate these things! I have to practically gag them down, plus it takes my stomach on a 3-hr roller coaster ride, and the ride usually ends with me vomiting. “What’s that?” Sharon asked curiously. “Left over Tuna fish meat loaf. Custom made into one disgusting sandwich. Guaranteed to make you vomit! Want it?” I asked her. Sharon didn’t buy my sales pitch. “Can’t. I’m allergic to tuna.” Guess I’ll just have to force it down, I thought.
“OK kids, time for time for you to take the “personality color test.” Said Mrs. H. I’ve always hated coloring. I am morally opposed to coloring. All I’ve ever gotten from coloring is a sore wrist and a finished picture that looks like it’s had been run over by a bus. Why do you think all the elderly people have arthritis now days? You got it, coloring. Keep that in mind the next time you sit down to color. You may create a stunning work of art, but it will come with a price, trust me.
Mrs. Hawkins set the test down in front of me. Lucky for me, at first glance it didn't look like I had to color anything. It was just a double-sided, multiple choice question test. This test was VERY stupid. How stupid you ask? Here’s one of the questions:

If you saw a Dandelion in the grass, would you:
A. Leave it alone (You love plants)
B. Spit on it (After all it’s sort of like watering it, right?)
C. Stomp on it selfishly with no respect for plant life (You figure it will grow back eventually and no one will miss it while it’s gone)

I circled C, finished up the test and turned it in. Now don’t get me wrong, plants and I don’t have a bad relationship, it’s just that I don’t plan my daily schedule around plants and HGTV. I put Miracle Grow on my Mom’s plants and I’m done with it. Sharon turned in her test also and we went over it. “Well Andy, I’ve determined your personality color to be dark red.” Said Mrs. Hawkins. “Judging by the answers you gave, you seem to have a happy, hearty, side that is evident most often, however you have a darker side to your personality that rears it’s ugly head every once in a while. “Since when did my darker personality have an ugly head?” I snapped. “Relax, it’s just an expression.” Said Mrs. H. I’ll bet, I thought. Mrs. H continued: “Sharon, you are a bright blue. You seem to have great respect for all forms of life.” Sharon grinned. She must have circled A on that one question. Suck up. She probably sleeps with a plant seed under her pillow. “However, you cannot handle traumatic events well and need lots of emotional support.” She paused. Sharon’s favorite show on TV is reruns of Love Boat.” I joked. “Put a sock in it, Andy!” Mrs. H barked.
Man she’s mean! Speaking of socks, I have to do laundry when I get home. Sharon spoke up.

“Andy is my friend. If I have a problem, I talk to him about it, not old bats like you. I don’t care what color his personality is; at least he’s able to pick decent wallpaper for a room!” Ouch. That did it. Hawk let out a warning screech. “Sharon, I want you to be quiet now or you and Andy will have to leave my office!” All she needs is “emotional support” Mrs. H, that’s all, I thought. Mrs. H regained her composure.

“OK, time for feelings,” Said Mrs. H. “And I don’t want to hear any more unnecessary comments, got it?” “Sharon, why don’t you share with us first today?”
I quickly took a bite of sandwich, remembering what Sharon had said earlier. Gosh, that seems like so long ago. It got about halfway down, then I about gagged. “You OK?” asked Mrs. H. I gave Mrs. H thumbs up. Sharon ignored my choking and talked about her feelings. “Well, I got an A on my science quiz and I’m very happy about that. “Good. Anything you’d like to share Andy?” I wanted to say: yes. Your yellow contacts are freaking me out. Instead, I just sat there, chewing a bite of my sandwich very slowly and methodically, not blinking, just like Sharon had told me to do. I indicated to Hawk woman that I wasn’t done chewing my food and to wait.
The session was almost over. I had to just keep chewing at this speed for 5 more minutes and then Sharon and I could get the heck outta here. I kept my eyes locked on Mrs. H Sharon gave me a confused look like, “What are you doing, you neanderthal?” I just looked at the clock and nodded. Sharon looked and the clock and the light bulb went on inside her head. “Oh, OK, pal” she said quietly. “Are you sure your OK, Andy?” Mrs. H asked. “Why don’t you take a drink to wash it all down?” Drinks are for wimpy social workers.
Sharon picked up there. “Andy has to chew his food very thoroughly. He has an eating disorder called Cow Jaw.” “Really? That’s terrible! Is this true Andy?” asked Mrs. H, suddenly alarmed. I nodded. Sharon continued to spin her tale. “And if he doesn’t chew his food enough and swallow at the exact moment he could die! The Hawk looked as if she was about to faint. “Oh my!” Mrs. H whimpered. “That’s not the worst of it. Said Sharon dramatically. “If he chews his food for too long, he starts to think he’s a cow!” Sharon had thrown me a perfect alley-oop pass, now al I had to do was slam it home. “I’m a cow.” I blurted, and I began to moo. “Moooooo!” I nodded my head toward the door. I purposely fell out of my chair and stiffened up my body to make it look as though I was about to pass on to the other side, so to speak. Sharon saw me and continued to play along.
“Call the nurse quick, I think he’s going!” Screamed Sharon. Mrs. Hawkins went into panic mode. “I forgot the nurses extension number, what is it?” Mrs. H asked Sharon frantically. “I don’t know. I think it’s posted on that bulletin board just outside your door.” Sharon said. She began to get into the act a little more. “Oh Andy please don’t leave me pal, please!” This whole fiasco was turning out to be like a season finale from a soap opera. I have to say though that Sharon’s act needs a little work. She was laying on the sympathy a little too heavily. Speaking of soap operas, do they even have season finales?
Mrs. H was standing outside the door, squinting. “I can’t find the number, Sharon. Said Mrs. H proudly. Sharon blew up. “Well, if you don’t know the nurses extension number, you better call a certain 3 digit number right now!” Sharon screamed blowing Mrs. H’s hair back. “ aleck?” All the while that Sharon and Mrs. H were having this wonderful, Jerry Springer worthy argument; I was mooing my head off. Mrs. H gave Sharon a look that could kill and reached for the phone on her desk. I stopped mooing. It was do or die time.
“Run” I yelled. I burst out the door in a flash. Sharon was right behind me. Mrs. H, everyone’s favorite social worker, was hot on Sharon’s heels, practically breathing down her neck.. “You guys are in big trouble! I’ll have you expelled!” She bellowed. Yeah, if you don’t take us to your nest and kill us first, I thought. Mrs. H made a dive for Sharon, but she just missed her. Sharon turned on the jets and nearly caught up to me, but I was still ahead of her by a few steps. “I thought the track coach told you you were too slow to make varsity!” I joked. “Was.” Sharon said, panting.
I saw a door at the end of the hallway that led to the school football field. It was covered with dandelions. “Hurry up, she can’t catch us if we get out there, she’s allergic to dandelions!” Sharon wheezed. “Great.” I said sarcastically. Then it hit me. “That’s it! That “personality color test we took was no personality test, it was a test to see if we were allergic to dandelions!” I said to Sharon. “She wanted people to circle C on that one question because she hates dandelions with a passion! I got it right! Not that it meant anything to Sharon. “Good for you Andy, now shut your mouth and keep running.” Sharon snapped.

After what seemed like years, I finally got to the door shoved in open and ran onto the world famous Coverton high school gridiron. Still running, I looked down and noticed that I was in the south end zone. “Touchdown Chiefs!” I yelled. I’ve always wanted to say that. I decided I was going to plant a whole field of dandelions as soon as I got home. They had saved my life, not to mention Sharon’s .Not just yet anyway. I grabbed Sharon’s hand and pulled her through the door. Sharon thanked me and locked the door just as Mrs. H slammed into it with a full head of steam! Way to go Sharon! Mrs. H began screaming threats and insults. All I heard was “I’ll get you guys as soon as I take my allergy medication!” r.” She laughed.
“I’m never coming with you to this thing again.” I told Sharon. “I don’t blame you in the least.” She said. She tossed me my half-eaten tuna fish meatloaf sandwich. “How’d you get this piece of garbage?” I asked. “I don’t know, instinct.” She pulled out her sandwich. “I’m not going to eat anymore of my lunch. I’ll just watch you eat.” I told her. I looked up at the bright blue sky. “You know Sharon, that blue sky up there would make a great wallpaper.” I commented.