{"id":283,"date":"2012-03-23T15:32:00","date_gmt":"2012-03-23T15:32:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/2012\/03\/23\/friday-flash-the-color-yellow\/"},"modified":"2012-03-23T15:32:00","modified_gmt":"2012-03-23T15:32:00","slug":"friday-flash-the-color-yellow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/2012\/03\/23\/friday-flash-the-color-yellow\/","title":{"rendered":"Friday Flash: The Color Yellow"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/a><\/div>\n

Hey everyone! Time to bust another one of these out. (What? It’s called “flash” for a reason, right?) Well, I had intended to write Red Scare, Pt II for this week, but it’s turning out longer than I anticipated and I don’t have enough time to finish \/ edit it. So instead you get this little piece I wrote a few days ago. It’s based on a prompt from Flash Fiction 365 @ tumblr<\/a>. But if nothing else, it features the same character <\/a>that Red Scare, Pt II includes, soooo that’s something, right?<\/p>\n

Also, we’re time-warping back to 1979.<\/p>\n

(Over 1k words, written in about an hour.) <\/p>\n

—

Amongst anything else – flowers, dresses, plastic jewelry, Crayons in a box – the color yellow was nothing special. It was a nice enough accent color, but the era had taken it to ridiculous extremes via paint pallets and upholstery.  <\/span>It also reminded one of dinner soup come back to haunt in the middle of the night.<\/p>\n

But that day\u2026<\/p>\n

That day yellow was beautiful<\/i>.<\/p>\n

At six years old Miranda had no real opinion about most colors \u2013 not like her peers at the kindergarten, who rolled around in blues and pinks and fought over red glitter and purple crayons. Of course, she had her supposed favorite of the day, a deep orange so thick in its own hue that it turned sienna in the summer light. She wore it on her jumper and in the ribbons in her hair, against her mother\u2019s better judgment (\u201cWhy do you like such boring colors? Boring colors for a boring girl. You look like a street dog in that color.\u201d) and her teacher\u2019s frustration since it made little Miranda blend in too well with the paint on the walls.<\/p>\n

But yellow was beautiful<\/i>.<\/p>\n

Her classmates were all like her:  <\/span>either a mix of Caucasian or not all. The local Asian population was at its thickest in that area, and a mixture of Mandarin, Laotian, Vietnamese and some Korean babbled in the air during drop-off and pickup times. There was one other child who was part Japanese like Miranda, a boy whose parents forbade him from speaking their natural language. Her mother had futilely arranged play dates between the two children in the morbid hope that they would get engaged before primary school.
Little George was currently stuffing another boy\u2019s face in the sandbox while Miranda clung to the wall, alone. Her eyes flitted between her supposed fianc\u00e9 and the new girl who brought with her the color yellow.
Susie was also part Asian, but the genetic randomizer had bestowed upon her a happy head of blond from her white father\u2019s side. The color pouring from her scalp was so vibrant that it was the definition of the color yellow.<\/p>\n

It was beautiful.<\/p>\n

Somebody chided Miranda for staring at the new girl. When she denied it, the child went and told Susie. Miranda turned and shoved her face in the corner before her cheeks could pinken.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, are you Miranda?\u201d Susie\u2019s voice sounded like sharpened chalk on metal. Miranda flinched and craned her head over her shoulder \u2013 she forgave Susie for the vocal oversight the moment she saw the lovely blond hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie kicked her feet and grinned. \u201cThey said you were staring at me.\u201d
 
\u201cNo I wasn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/span>\u201cWhy are you staring at me? Are you weird?\u201d<\/p>\n

Miranda bowed her head. \u201cYou\u2019re pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks! You\u2019re pretty too!\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie could say that so candidly \u2013 why was Miranda so shy to admit it herself? \u201cDo you wanna play?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure!\u201d<\/p>\n

They took off for another corner where a pile of blocks were abandoned. Together they built themselves a nice colorful castle and decorated the ramparts with tiny plastic soldiers. Miranda babbled about defensive tactics while Susie gaped at how it all flew over her own head. While Miranda put all the soldiers into formation, Susie took a blue ribbon out of her hair and strung it around the base of the castle as a makeshift moat.<\/p>\n

It was a decent castle by any other kindergarten\u2019s standards, and other children stopped by to admire it\u2026or threaten it as the kingdom dragon, as it were. One particularly young girl took a soldier out of Miranda\u2019s hands and sucked on it before giving it back. Miranda sneered and threw it at the back of the girl\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda!\u201d chided the nearest teacher. \u201cDon\u2019t throw things!\u201d<\/p>\n

Miranda hunkered down near her and Susie\u2019s castle. From that moment the teacher hovered near them, although her attention was constantly taken by George\u2019s bullying of the other boys.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right. That\u2019s it. Playtime\u2019s over,\u201d she finally announced. \u201cClean up!\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie slammed a hand against the castle and watched it fall with delight. Miranda merely stared at the colors falling around her, each block crushing a tiny soldier against the brown carpet. Something lurched inside her stomach in agony.<\/p>\n

Susie\u2019s hair brushing against her forehead made her stomach lurch in something else.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s my ribbon?\u201d Susie\u2019s voice snapped Miranda out of her sickening trance.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere it is.\u201d She reached out and picked up the ribbon from the pile of blocks.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. Can you tie it for me? My mom always does it for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie gathered her hair on the side of her head and gestured for Miranda to approach with the ribbon. With the rabble of a scrambled clean up going on around them, Miranda took the ribbon and began to tie it in an acceptable loop around Susie\u2019s yellow locks. A tear emerged at the edge of her eye as she felt each thick strand between her fingers.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! Are you okay? Why are you crying?\u201d Susie pulled herself away and finished her hair on her own.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not crying\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re crying! You are weird!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just\u2026your hair is so pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy hair?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I like the color a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just hair\u2026you\u2019ve seen yellow hair before, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re so weird.\u201d<\/p>\n

They stared at each other, Miranda\u2019s eyes watering while Susie\u2019s blinked in bemusement. Miranda reached out and took her new friend\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be my friend?\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie shrugged. \u201cI guess so. But you are weird.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say thanks to that!\u201d Susie yanked her hand away. \u201cWeirdo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I kiss you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?!\u201d<\/p>\n

Miranda pointed her chin down and pretended she couldn\u2019t see anything. \u201cMy cousin says you should kiss people you think are pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut girls don\u2019t kiss other girls!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026I don\u2019t know why\u2026they just don\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy can\u2019t I kiss you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause it\u2019s weird, you weirdo!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you kiss me if I were a boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEw! No way! That\u2019s gross!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why not kiss me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Susie finally relented. Besides, she later said, she needed the practice. And since boys were so gross, why not kiss a girl instead? And thus she let Miranda lean in and peck her on the lips while the kindergarten cleaned itself around them.<\/p>\n

For centuries artists have tried to capture the innocence of a child\u2019s kiss; for centuries adults have had heart attacks over them.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda<\/i>!\u201d The teacher swept in and pulled them apart. \u201cSusie! What are you doing?!\u201d<\/p>\n

She addressed both of them, but it was Miranda she had her firm hands clasped upon. \u201cWe were kissing\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI could see that! That\u2019s disgusting!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo it\u2019s not!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome here!\u201d The teacher yanked Miranda away and towards the telephone in the back office.
When Miranda\u2019s mother arrived, it was more of the same she always heard. \u201cUnnatural child!\u201d \u201cHas no morals!\u201d \u201cWhat kind of family do you keep at home?\u201d \u201cThis is the second time!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy daughter is quite sick,\u201d Miranda\u2019s mother responded via her sister-in-law\u2019s translation. \u201cI\u2019ve disciplined her several times about this.\u201d \u201cI was hoping it was just a tainted American phase but she can\u2019t get rid of it.\u201d \u201cI will punish her again.\u201d \u201cThis is unacceptable, I agree.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d She even bowed at the end.<\/p>\n

And when Susie\u2019s mother came, nothing changed. \u201cWhat?!\u201d \u201cWhat kind of place is this?!\u201d \u201cIs this what goes on here?!\u201d \u201cDo not make my daughter a homosexual!\u201d \u201cI can\u2019t stand a place like this!\u201d \u201cWe\u2019re leaving!\u201d<\/p>\n

She took Susie with her, and the little blond girl never returned. When Miranda went home that night, she was quite righteously punished by her disgusted and enraged mother. The shrieking was the same as always, and the spanking didn\u2019t even hurt after a while. The worst part was when she went to the phone and called George\u2019s mother, insisting on another play date.<\/p>\n

But George would never do. No boy would ever do. The feelings inside Miranda \u2013 that she would have no words to describe until she was of age \u2013 were there, steadfast in her heart, and imprinted on her memory. No girl would be as pretty as Susie, the little girl with yellow hair.<\/p>\n

Until she met the next one.<\/p>\n

And the next one.<\/p>\n

And finally the last one.<\/p>\n

Because the color yellow was so beautiful.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hey everyone! Time to bust another one of these out. (What? It’s called “flash” for a reason, right?) Well, I had intended to write Red Scare, Pt II for this week, but it’s turning out longer than I anticipated and I don’t have enough time to finish \/ edit it. So instead you get this… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[59,209,88,95],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-283","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cross","category-friday-flash","category-lgbt","category-short-stories"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paRtqI-4z","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/283","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=283"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/283\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=283"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=283"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hildred-billings.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=283"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}