Plank Public Library
Plank, WA
March 1984
“Lookin’ for Ladies’ Home Journal?” O’Neill sneered behind Ariel’s back.
Ariel returned the copy of Newsweek to the library rack and faced his ferret-eyed bully. “You’re the one lookin’ at ladies’ swimsuits,” Ariel replied to his torturer, who dangled a copy of Sports Illustrated.
“I’m lookin’ at what’s in the swimsuits.”
“Yeah, but all you get is skank smokin’ behind the gym.”
O’Neill glanced around, feigning nonchalance as he grabbed Ariel’s left nipple and twisted it. “I don’t take shit from fairies.”
“I’m not,” Ariel winced, “but you’re a redneck.”
“I’d rather be a redneck than a fairy. Fairies die of AIDS and people laugh.”
O’Neill released the titty-twister and Ariel backed up several steps. “White trash,” he hissed, eyes watering.
“My mom gets outta work at six,” O’Neill sneered. “When’s your Mom getting outta prison? Nineteen eighty-seven?” As Ariel lowered his eyes, O’Neill grinned. “At least you got yer big black daddy to tuck you into beddie-bye.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“How’s it, anyway, ya got a black daddy and a white mommy?”
“I’m part Albino,” Ariel replied with a hitch in his voice, for he found his origin story dubious despite his mother’s assurances over the years.
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