Ms. Williams

         In a slip of the palm one day, Dr. Smith had written some extra zeroes on the dosage for Ms. Williams’ Zantac meds.  But, even worse, he was deep in thought about her neuroticism, and had been wishing to write her some Xanax instead.  Though she’d never have filled a Xantax ‘scrip- claiming she was perfectly calm & in control- Dr. Smith’s hands had slipped so very far that day as to have made that decision for her.  The end was near.

         The first indication of Ms. Williams’ transformation came at her son’s soccer game.

“MOM!  I thought you weren’t here!”

“Why, lil darlin’?  You played great today.”

“You didn’t even yell at the ref one time!”

“Oh, you know, it’s only a game…”

“So… Can, uh, Jimmy & I go with Stevie’s mom to get ice cream?”

“Absolutely.  I’ll meet you there!”

“No… comments about Stevie’s fat mom?”

“Huh… Well, she tries.”

Not only was her heartburn under control, but others besides her kids began to tolerate her presence.  The trainer, the pool boy, the Garden Party moms, the Neighborhood Association, and occasionally the PTA- though no amount of meds could really quell Ms. Williams’ fire about the so-called parents at the PTA. 



***



Ms. Williams continued to treat her heartburn and wander through life within the navigational beacons.  That is, until the monthly Garden Party with the Brightview Neighbors.

         “What has changed, Amy? Has Bill gotten a raise?”

“Why no… Ever since my heartburn has been taken care of, it’s like I’m totally different.”  Ms. Jones poured her some wine as most of the neighbors cleared out.  Ms. Williams preemptively swallowed her heartburn meds as though on cue.

“Well, I thought your concession to plant geraniums over violets was very big- we’re thinking you may want to even grow them for the sale!” Ms. Asher alluded.  Ms. Jones fully agreed.

“Oh, of course, ladies!  Geraniums and chrysanthemums and a backdrop of hibiscus… It’s a dream of swirling colors and joyous fields…”

Ms. Jones & Ms. Asher gulped their wine. 

“You seem so… relaxed… since you got your heartburn treated,” Ms. Asher ventured.

“It must be working,” Ms. Jones followed. “It’s amazing how the other kids aren’t even that scared of you anymore after the last few soccer games.  Some of the other moms even thought you hated them!”

“Oh, I’m scary shit, I should be a chaperone… Grrrr… scary kids… Chap-e-rone!  It’s like a nightmare at the dance, who needs em?”

“Well… you know how fresh kids can get.” Ms. Jones seemed concerned.

“Like Bel-Air Prince Fresh, Christine!  If they knew how cool we even used to be…”

“You seem a little drunk.  Wine tolerance waning?”

“Waaaaaay wane.  Waaaay.  In college, I drank whiskey out of flasks in restaurants.”

“Yes, those were before the responsible days.  Now we have real things to focus on.”

“Oh the garden bullshit.  The neighborhood association can suck my balls.”

“Uh… but you always said how it was there for a good reason & how we need to keep the view from the sidewalks—“

“I’ll tell you about sidewalks: My sorority sisters and I got wasted & put a huge dildo on the sidewalk to watch people’s reactions!”

“You are cut off the wine, Janice Williams!”

“Cut off- ha!  We’ll see about that- don’t think I didn’t note that you were against my suggestion at the PTA meeting that we don’t wash the graffiti! Third-graders need creative encouragement and not discouragement by washing away their artistry. You all are like the prison guards of free expression!” Ms. Jones and Ms. Asher shifted around in their tracks.  Ms. Jones gulped her wine & poured another.  Ms. Williams went on.

“I saw little Johnny Jones with a Sharpie, I know what he’s up to.”  Ms. Jones fidgeted a bit and looked down. “Oh, don’t look shocked, ladies, I’m just playing.  You’re like my sisters.”



***



Ms. Williams was back at the doctor again the following month.

“I’ve been using this all the time- one per day isn’t cutting it.  Also, maybe a lil stronger dose.”

In the small community, Dr. Smith had all but figured out his mistake through the grapevine.  The disarray Ms. Williams had caused by her calmness had really kinked everyone’s chain, but then life went on.  And, like an organism in distress that had just beaten a cancerous cell, they let her sink into obscurity & complacency.  A newly lackadaisical attitude released her from a role of neighborhood leadership, and her gung-ho outlook had been all but eliminated.  She’d even been put in charge of PTA art events. Yes, maybe there were some awkward drunken conversations, but after the initial shock, she could almost be described as “fun”.  Ms. Williams, by a slip of the palm, had been assimilated.

“Let me see what I wrote you last time,” Dr. Smith asked, reading the bottle.

“You look surprised, Doctor!”

“Oh no, oh no, no.  Such a low dose is all!  You know how we like to start you off small.”

“Oh, good.”

Dr. Smith began scribbling very intently.  He was sure his palm didn’t slip this time.