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Unmanly
Jon Brunette
Squirming like a wet eel, the tomboy protested to how the filthy man in the smelly jeans and yellow shirt held her body. Before the nine-year-old climbed into the van, the man with the black hair told her that her mom had been injured. Lisa recognized the black-haired male as the neighbor who lived opposite the small park from her family. While her dad sided the house with vinyl, it appeared plausible that her mom would attempt to repair pieces of jagged vinyl hanging limply. Thus, the tomboy leapt into the rusty van with he who spoke to her family frequently. They both left the busy schoolyard, talking quietly, with audible fears on their lips about the bones her mom broke. She probably fell off the rickety ladder; she could barely balance off stools to fix light bulbs.
The black-haired family friend touched Lisa inappropriately. When the Ford moved into an empty park that Lisa didn’t recognize, the male pulled off the girl’s jeans until her butt became sweaty in the stuffy front seat. Her body shook uncontrollably. She yelled, but the locked doors and windows prevented escape. Kicking like an animal about to die, Lisa felt her shirt tear badly and her baseball hat topple off her head and land on the floor. She swallowed but her throat dried quickly as the thick hands yanked for her private area. They rubbed slowly but awkwardly.
With her elbow, Lisa hit the window, and broke it into confetti. It sparkled loudly onto the blacktop below the large wheels. With a final kick at the body of her filthy neighbor, Lisa jumped through the window. She jabbed her body in the process on the broken edges. When she jumped, her left shoe kicked the flabby abdomen, which caused the family friend to lurch painfully. After Lisa landed on her head and ran painfully, in a zigzag pattern, she didn’t look back. She didn’t witness the liar vomit and leave as quickly. Also, she paid little attention to the bloody trail behind her.
Mick walked into the hospital with hands at his pelvis. When the doctor looked at his body, he instructed Mick to have his appendix removed. An extreme blow had ruptured it beyond control. Mick would need to stay for a week if the doctor didn’t operate immediately. Obediently, Mick lay on the squeaky table and began the lengthy trip to the Operating Room. When he awoke, he felt extreme pain in his lower body. It hurt like lightning between his thighs, but he assumed he just had to urinate. Anxiety always caused his bladder to fill. When he attempted to stand, he hurt unlike anytime before. Quickly, his body lay back down, throbbing below the belt; he didn’t attempt to stand and urinate anymore. And yet, he could barely lay stiffly, without motion, as well.
The doctor walked into the hospital room. Mick told him slowly, like the words wouldn’t come immediately, “I still feel the appendix like a fiery torch. I don’t think you operated correctly. Maybe you should look for another injury.” Without a lawyer, it didn’t occur to Mick to threaten legally. Besides, he avoided police without exception.
The doctor said, “You suffered a terrible blow. I removed your appendix, but I performed another operation.” Slowly, a jittery tomboy walked into the room behind the thick doctor. She bowed her head, trying to look invisible. The surgeon said, “I think you recognize my niece.” With eyes wide, Mick nodded but didn’t speak. The doctor said, “You molest small girls, and I, like society, won’t tolerate it.” The baldheaded man in the white jacket needn’t elaborate, but did anyhow. “My innocent niece told me that you would arrive with an injury. With molestation in the picture, I feel the need to protect children from predators like you.” Mick fondled his nether region like a war veteran might hold an amputated limb. No body part touched his thick palms; his manhood had vanished like the appendix. The doctor continued, “Since you probably wouldn’t quit otherwise, I removed the part of your body that needs small females. Simply, I took your sexuality. When trauma of such magnitude happens, it never reverses fully, like that of molestation. We will list you as Michelle, not Mick. Naturally, we will not bill you.”
The doctor held the tomboy tightly. Before they both walked into the hallway, the medical man looked back. To his patient, he added like a formality, “I hope you live healthily.” Somehow, Mick believed what he just heard.
