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March 2008

Monday, 24th

6 years old.

QUEEN MAKEDA AKA QUEEN SABA OR SHEBA: KNEE SHELLY'S FACE

Libby didn't want to be dragged to school today. She wanted to go to school--willingly--as she did the rest of her days, but her mother wasn't getting it. It was her father who understood her school mood swings. It wasn't like she wanted to skip all days, but there were moments when she hated all humanity sans her parents.

Kids were mean and happy mood thrashers.

She wanted to stay home with her dozen variety of Barbie dolls and play doctor, have tea, solve a case and make a judgment for the two Barbies--Amila and Haran--who always fought.

Libby had tried telling her mother that she didn't like the school. Recently, they had to move to the west coast since her father got promoted. Noah Eun wouldn't have agreed if Betanya Abraham hadn't also been promoted as a senior partner, and like a miracle, it was in the same state Noah was told to relocate. It was a win-win except for Libby. She had to leave Danielle--her imaginary friend--Danielle shouldn't have been imaginary since kids from school also saw her.

"Honey, Danielle is family. She will move with us." But Danielle hadn't moved with them. She had stayed at the empty house, waving imaginarily from their doorstep, looking sad. Her mother would bring her up at dinner, yet Libby would say nothing. She had told them Dani wouldn't have moved and they hadn't listened. Now she was alone.

Now she had to endure school with... with... those mean girls and boys. Life shouldn't have been this hard for a 6-year-old girl.

I wish dad hadn't left early.

"I know what you're thinking, young lady." Her mom tugged playfully at her braided ponytail as she tied the ribbon behind her back. And by the way, Libby hated the uniform! It was the vomiting shade of green with light red stripes. A white short-sleeved shirt underneath and a black tie--that was the only thing Libby liked about it since she always pulled at her dad's loose tie and tightened it. Libby liked to adjust and tighten it--even if it was an already made tie sewn on a piece of black cloth that buttoned at the back.

"You just don't understand, momma," Libby spoke under her breath. It wasn't that she had favorites among her parents. It was just that there were places--moments--where she preferred one over the other. Right now, it was her dad.

Her mom turned her around. Cupped her chubby cheeks and said, looking into your eyes, "But I do, Lib. Why did I name you Makeda?"

Libby lowered her eyes. She wasn't anything like Queen Makeda aka known as Queen Saba or Sheba. "Lib," her mother waited.

"Because she was a good queen. Because you love the tale of how she came to be."

"The tale is another topic, but I named you after her because of her bravery and courage and beauty. She is a figurehead and so are you. I will talk with the teachers--"

"NO."

"Ah, Lib, c'mon. You can't say no. You don't want to go to school because of those girls--"

"Yes but... but not entirely. I just feel like not wanting to go, momma." Libby tried to give her mom her best sad puppy eyes. Betanya sighed. "I can't do this now, Lib. You know I can't take you to work today,"

Libby knew. "It's not a problem at all, though. I can handle myself."

Her mom rolled her eyes. She always did when Libby said that, but Libby did know how to handle herself. Hunger? Microwave anything--no silver or silver-looking things. Thirsty? Water from the faucet or juice from the fridge that was glued super shut and made her struggle to open it even with two hands. Pee or poop? Bathroom. How to spend the rest of her time? Read in her room or play her puzzles.

See, Libby couldn't handle herself well.

"No. You're going to school." And so they went.