The Purple Genie In The Sky...

I remember all of my teachers. There was this one who would pull out our teeth when they were loose if we had bought a handkercheif to put it in; she would tie it in a little knot in the corner so that we could take it home for the tooth fairy. For the entire three years I was at Infant's school, I wiggled every last tooth in my head- just so Margaret could pull them out. I called her that once and she told me not to ever again. She wasn't even that gentle pulling them out when I think back.

Maybe it was the honour of the thing; running over to your friends and showing them a bloodied gaping hole, or maybe it was just another fifty cents to look forward to spending on a wad of Wizz Fizz's at Curl's Corner Shop. I don't know. It was a long time ago after all. I look back now and think I might have been destined to be this way from the beginning, being how I am, that is. I think all of my teacher's thought I was a bit different-one in particular, who had to direct me in the class operetta would admit as much; if she's still alive that is.

It was called Little Gypsy Gay, or something like that, and I was the fortune teller, Thurza, and so had quite a big role. I remember feeling so panicked about not remembering my lines, so much so that I would feel ill just at the thought of going to rehearsals. I recall being in the shower that day- hoping and praying to the Purple Genie in the Sky to just let me vanish from the stage when I had to sing my solo, and never have to go through with it. One time I even convinced my friend to hide in the girl's toilets with me rather than go to practise. Actually- I begged and pleaded with her. The teachers kept calling out our names when they realised we were missing, but we didn't answer them, even though she was scared and really thought we should. We hid from the bald gardener in the prison greens behind a trailer full of dirt and talked about the horse in the paddock across the road from the school, and thought up ways to get past the gardener so we could go and ride the horse, until the bell rang and we 'appeared' again for home time, and slipped away, still unnoticed.

For the next six years I couldn't walk past that gardener because I knew he had seen me hiding behind the trailer. Maybe the teachers' knew where I was as well, or why else would they have stopped looking for me? Shouldn't they have always known where I was? At all times? Afterall I was only five. Maybe they told the gardener to keep an eye on me. Looking back I'm sure that even the teacher knew that I was having a panic attack and had let me stay away from operetta practice that day- but in Reality- how many five year old's have panic attacks I wonder?

Maybe she thought that I hadn't practiced my lines or that I was just shy. I can rememeber feeling that way at the time, thinking she would think that I was too thick to remember my words. The thought still upsets me a bit actually. The real problem was that I couldn't imagine that I was going to be able to do it in front of an audience. I just couldn't visualise it happening, and so the inevitable thing happens when it comes time for opening night after what seemed like months of silent brain torture. I freeze on stage. The Purple Genie does nothing to help and I start to think I am stupid for thinking he could. He's happy enough sitting up there on his white cloud in the sky isn't he, why should he help?

I had told the teacher that this was going to happen, didn't I? I'm sure that one of me did. I lost every word that I had memorised. "Cross My Palm With Silver" was forgotten. All Icould see were the faces of the parents and children smirking in the crowd-all their eyes upon me. I believe that they started to laugh hysterically- and then I realise that I am not frozen at all, and that I have actually been awkwardly and nervously running my hands up my long gypsy skirt the whole time I thought I had been frozen- in the process exposing my flesh-coloured undies to the crowd. I am now mortified with Myself for being this way, found in this position, for everybody to see. I notice that the big boys from my Sister's class are jeering, not that these ones are her friends. This isn't the last time that this will happen, either.

I can't remember what happened next. I wonder how I got out of that one?