You Can't Be Mad Forever

                                      You Can't Be Mad Forever
                                              John T NightOwl

           It was autumn.  The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn a hundred different shades of browns and greens. The morning air had crispness to it.  Janoah was coming to the end of a great summer.  She was ten, a bit on the thin side but just as tall as her older sister Judeaa thirteen.    The good thing about being tall Janoah often thought to herself, was being able to reach up to the top shelves of the kitchen cabinets at home and fix herself something to eat at lunch time.  Her sister Judeaa, was often listening to music and dancing alone in the living room, rarely having the time to help Janoah.  The other good thing about being tall was that this summer when her family visited the amusement parks, Janoah was oh so happy that she was tall enough to get on the rides of her choice, "nothing too dangerous though,"  she would say to her parents. It was a lovely summer, an unforgettable summer filled with swimming pools, trips to other cities, sleeping in nice air conditioned hotel rooms and jumping up and down on the big, soft bouncy beds.  But now summer was coming to a close and Janoah felt a little sad about that.  Soon she would be back in school.  There her height would have other non-rewards, like being at the back of the line for everything, always being asked to get things from real high places and worst of all being teased by other students.  But this school year would be different.  Janoah would take the advice of her mother, “try to” keep a positive attitude about things,” she would often say.  However at the time that didn’t mean a lot to Janoah. 

         Before Janoah knew it, it was the first day of school.  Up at dawn; shower, brushing her teeth, and comb her hair was her new daily routine.  Janoahs’ mother fixed a small breakfast that morning, eggs, sausage, grits and toast with jelly. The smell of eggs and sausage throughout the house helped Janoah to get dressed just a little faster.  She happily jumped down the steps that morning to devour breakfast.  Janoahs’ mother didn’t do this every morning; but because it was Janoahs’ first day back to school she wanted to give her a real treat.  Janoah had on her new blue and green plaid uniform, sparkling fresh white blouse and her prize possession, her new  navy blue school sweater with the name of her school, “St Martin De Poures Catholic School” embossed across her chest.  Her hair was even done up in braids with a cute little matching scrunchie tied neatly in the back, giving her the pony tail effect.

         “Come on Janoah, it’s time to go.  Don’t forget your book bag.  Let’s get in the car so you won’t be late the first day of school,” said Mom turning the key to the car starting the engine. 


        Janoah thought that the first day of school would be the greatest, greatest day of her life but she was in for a big surprise.  Once in the school yard amid the steady hum of anxious little voices, Janoah looked around for familiar faces.

          “Hello Ms. Davis said a little girl approaching with the exact same uniform Janoah has on with the exception of the school sweater.  She had a pink book bag on her back, half the size of her tiny frame.  It looked as if she would topple over backwards any minute.  Janoah! Is that you; said the little girl.  That hair is bangin girl. Oh my goodness!, she went on in amazement,  School sweater!  You just go on girl it's off the chain."

          “Hi Sara, Good seeing you.  How was your summer?  Your hair the bomb diddy to,” said Janoah.

          “Janoah you have a good day’, Janoahs’ mother interrupted, “and pay attention in school.  Mommy will be back to pick you up form school at the end of the day.  Be blessed baby,” Janoahs mother kissed her gently on her little forehead then lovingly stroked her small shoulders with her slender hand.  She slowly walked away disappearing in the crowd. 

          “Bye Mom,” said Janoah and in the same breath as she continued talking to Sara.  “So who’s here and what crazy teachers do we have?  What did you really do the summer?…..

          It took Sara and Janoah all of home room, first, second and into third period to get caught up with their own personal current events.  Most of their old friends had returned to school.  They had already formed their little groups in the classes.  Ms. Jefferson was now teaching the boring subject of math. 

          Ms. Jefferson was not new to teaching nor was she new to  St Martin De’ Poures Catholic School with her  black horn rim glasses sitting low on the bridge of her button like nose. With her brown shoulder length hair pulled back into a tight little pony tail she called out to Janoah in a loud tone of voice, “Any time you two ladies decide to rejoin the class, you are more than welcomed.”

          Janoah shrank beneath Ms. Jefferson’s booming voice.  There was a sudden hush in the class.  All eyes were on Janoah.  She muttered almost under her breath, “Sorry Ms. Jefferson.” 

         “Maybe you would like to share you conversation with the class.  Obviously it is more important that the math we are learning.  Please come up to the front we would like to hear what you and Sara where discussing.”

         “It’s not important Ms. Jefferson,” Janoah replied just above a whisper. 

         “It’s not important Ms. Jefferson, Sara echoed also hunched over at her desk.

         Giggle and sneers filled the room.  Janoah was so embarrassed that if there were a hole in the middle of the floor, she would have jumped right in it.  If there were a hole in the floor she would really jump right down in it.

         Lunch couldn’t come fast enough.  Seated at her lunch table with her lunch bag in hand her peers were still teasing her over the incident. 

         “Hey what’s the 411 yawl?  Sure you don’t want to share?” one classmate yelled across the room.

         “Hey if it isn’t mouth almighty Janoah!” another classmate shouted.

         Janoah quickly turned in the direction of the voice, while attempting to open her strawberry milk that was on the table in front of her.  Suddenly she felt coldness in the front of her.  She was wet to her amazement.  The room burst into uncontrollable laughter.  Even Sara her best friend was now laughing at her with her tiny hands in front of her face trying to hide her grin.

         “Hey, it’s the milk maid,” one classmate shouted pointing in Janoahs’ direction.

         “GOT MILK!”  Someone shouted. 

         It was as if the laughter and the unkind comments went on forever.  It filled the room. Janoah had just spilled strawberry milk right down the front of her new school sweater.  She wanted to cry; but she felt that if she did, that that would only give them more to tease her about.  She just jumped up suddenly and ran straight to the girls’ rest room which wasn’t far away. 

         The school day couldn’t end fast enough.  Once in the car after her mother picked her up from school her mother asked, “So how was you first day of school?”

         “Fine Janoah,” Mumbled. 

         “Where’s you new sweater?” her mother asked reaching over making sure Janoahs’ car door was locked. 

         ‘That’s all I need now, to roll out this car door, roll down the street and disappear forever’, Janoah thought quietly to herself.  “Oh, I put my sweater in my school bag.  I had a little accident.”

         “Want to talk about it?” Janoahs’ mother asked sensing her frustration. 

         “Maybe latter Mom, could I just not say anything right now?” said Janoah with her head almost in her lap. 

         Once home Janoah quickly changed her school clothes.  Jeans and sweatshirt was the uniform of choice.  Janoah found a quite place in the back yard on the swing chair trying to rethink the day.  Trying to find out where she went wrong.  ‘thank God Ms. Jefferson didn’t call and tell my mother I was talking in class,” she thought to herself.  She could still hear her classmates laughing at her when she spilt her milk.  She could still see Sara her best friend laughing to.  ‘That hurt the most.’ She thought to herself.  She could even hear her mother’s advice before she got to school. “Try to keep a positive attitude about things.”  Janoahs’ cat Sasha came over and began rubbing up against her ankle as if trying to cheer her up.  Sasha was an oversized tuxedo cat who just loved to snuggle.  “Go away Sasha,” Said Janoah half heartedly.  Sasha then took the liberty to find a soft spot in Janoahs’ lap.  Sasha looked up at her as if to speak.  Everyone knows that cats can’t talk; but when she looked closer at Sasha it looked as though Sasha was saying, “Hey, you can’t be mad forever,” In a meowy type voice.  Instead of being frustrated or angry, Janoah was really confused now.  She looked at Sasha again, “Meow!” her mouth moved and again she heard, “Hey, you can’t be mad forever.” 

         The sound of Janoaha’ mother voice rescued her bringing her back to reality, “Janoah you have a phone call.  It’s Sara from school.”

         Janoah didn’t really want to talk to Sara at this time but she knew that if she told her mother that, that her mother would know that something was wrong.  So Janoah came in to answer the phone.  “Hello,” she answered. 

         “Hello Janoah.  How ya feelin?”

         “What do you think traitor?”

                   “Come on Janoah don’t be like that.  Was your sweater trashed?”

                   “It’ll live…”

         “Look Janoah, I’m really sorry.  I really didn’t mean to laugh at you…
         
Just then Janoah could see Sasha sitting on her lap in the backyard, on the chair swing.  “Meow!”  you can’t be mad forever.”  Janoah laughed to herself.

         “Oh! So now you’re going to laugh at me.  What did I say?” asked Sara.

         “Hey, you can’t be mad forever.”  Said Janoah

         “What?  What was that?” asked Sara.

         “Got Milk?” said Janoah now laughing.

         “Oh no you didn’t,” said Sara. “Got Milk,” she echoed laughing with Janoah.

         Just like that laughter filled the air again and tomorrow will be another day.  I guess you can’t be mad forever…