the truth about the tooth april 22,2005

i tell everyone different versions of the chipped tooth debacle.
most often i go with the rugged field hockey game
where in hand to stick combat.i got an elbow to the faceresulting in a chipped tooth and my foe recieved a punctured elbow.

this makes for an exciting tale.

who doesn't love a bloody war story? and when you are talking sports
even the male species sit up in attention.

this version is not altogether false.
i did recieve an elbow to the mouth
and a stick and a very hard ball to the face on another occassion...
which did in fact chip the tooth but the tooth part was already missing.
i already had a hillbillie space.
and these instances only dislodged the repair work of my dentist- dr.mack(much to his chagrin.

and then there was the insane story i told my mother and my teacher mrs.mcintyre on the day it actually happened. i told them i tripped in a crazy way. and i hit my tooth. and chipped it in a purely accidental way. this was not true.
the funny thing is that after all these years.fifth grade was forever ago.
in the tiny christian school that had become my personal hades-
i had never ever told anyone until the other day.

this is the true story and it goes something like this:
i was in a small suffocating class and when you are alone and unpopular in a class of nine then you are lonely and pretty much done for and miserable.the christian kids were not very christian.nor very god is love or onward christian soldiers and so on this particular day as i made my way down the creepy hallway to water our class plant in the musty cold grey bathroom i was interrupted by two of my arch enemies doreen and sharon. doreen was tall and lanky and sharon was short and round and i was petrified of them. they were the popular girls in a tiny little pond.and i was a guppy.children know when they don't fit and so it came to no surprise that oafy and vulnerable me was singled out.


i could hear them coming and so i hid in the stall and they talked and laughed loudly and at my expense.doreen said that i was so fat that she thought that i must be pregnant. my ten year old heart sunk and the tears collected in my throat and i stayed still and nearly died at the suggestion that they were going to lift up my shirt to check in front of the class.panic hit and my face felt red and i held onto the particle board painted door and prayed that they would leave me alone.they jiggled the lock and hurled insults and kicked and finally i thought they had given up.so i cautiously opened and peeked and saw the door slam right back into my face. slow motion.and the metal door hanger struck and i tasted blood and tooth and fell backward.broken tooth.broken spirit.broken heart.

i immediately thought of my mom and how sorry i felt that she had me for a daughter and how could i break it to her that i was the object of ugliness and the butt of jokes when parents just want to believe that all is well.i was willing to keep up appearances.why should they suffer and worry and shed tears for their lumpy little daughter.sugar and spice and everything.i had been their "patches" and chicken hawks sighter and trips to sit on the cow at richmonds and they could handle that.and i could handle this.and so i hid and i lied and i learnd to smile when i wanted to do nothing but die.the world went on without me and i covered the chip and the chinks and the holes.for many many years.

but now it's time.
and healing and mercy and truth are here
for the taking and spilling out
and now you understand a little.
my peculiarities are less of an enigma
my mellow drama less dramatic
my tears a little less out of nowhere.
i pull it all out and walk around with
an imperfect smile(we don't have dental insurance, anymore)
and i still say "field hockey"
when people ask.
it's easier and people don't really want
to know about your crummy past they really
just want neat as a pin explanations
that cause them to pause or chuckle
or feel like they are being a good friend
by seeming interested
and even though i felt like i couldn't
leave the sanctity and safety of home
with my blinding imperfection...
i do and now i wear it as a badge of courage
or of something of survival
not of the fittest
(that's how i know for sure that darwin had it all wrong)
because i was never fit or formulated
or adapted to this cutthroat life
and i would have been squashed years ago.
but survival nontheless-
i'm here i'm thirty
i'm alive and i can't hide anymore.
chipped toothy grin and all.