October 1985
Second Grade
Pembroke Pines, Florida
Jonquinette sat on the playground, wishing she was anyplace else but there. Every day her mother dropped her off at school, she dreaded walking up the front steps and through the large metal doors. She loved her teachers and desired to gain knowledge but the way the children bullied her was depressing to a seven-year-old girl.
The teasing never stopped, nor did the names. Retard. Fatty. Ugmo. Jonquinette’s self-esteem was nonexistent, having long been destroyed by many students; one in particular. Her name was Brenda Morrison and all the kids adored her or at least pretended to adore her. There was nothing really special about her. She just carried herself and talked about herself like she was unique to the point where all the students started to believe her.
This particular day, Jonquinette was sitting on a bench while all the other second graders enjoyed their recess time after lunch. She was staring at the sky and daydreaming, hoping that a bird would come whisk her away and drop her in a better place. She hated the outfit she had on: a pair of pink capris and a top that had way too many colors in the pattern. She preferred darker colors to match her mood: depressed.
Her mother had spent hours the night before cornrowing her hair for the school week ahead. On Mondays, everyone was always overactive after spending the weekend at parks and playing sports. Jonquinette always kept to herself on weekends. She didn’t know how to make friends and since no one ever invited her anywhere, she would just sit on the front porch and watch cars drive by at rare intervals.
Jonquinette couldn’t wait until the school day was over. Just three more hours and she could escape. She was lost in her own little world when Brenda marched up to her with three other little girls in tow.
“What are you doing, Fatty?” Brenda hissed at her. “Where’s my money?”
Jonquinette shrugged. Every single day Brenda would demand that she give her a quarter. Most days she would manage to sneak into her parents’ bedroom and grab a quarter off her father’s valet tray. However, it had been an impossible task that morning.
Brenda leaned down and punched her on the arm. “You heard me, Retard. Where’s my quarter?”
Jonquinette lowered her eyes to the ground. “I don’t have it.”
“Excuse me?” Brenda asked angrily. “Did you just say you don’t have my money?”
One of the other little girls, Francine, said, “That’s what she said, Brenda. You gonna beat her up?”
Brenda glanced around the playground to make sure all the teachers were occupied, trying to make sure no one was falling off equipment or butting in line at the slide. She turned back to Jonquinette and glared down at her. “No, I’m not gonna beat her up. Not today. I’m just gonna slap her.”
Before Jonquinette could block it, Brenda’s hand smashed against her left cheek, causing an incredible pain to shoot through her entire body.
All the little girls started laughing and doubling over to hold their stomachs. All except Brenda, who issued a warning. “Tomorrow you better have my money. Two quarters instead of one or I’m gonna beat you up for real.”
Jonquinette broke out in tears. How could someone be so cruel? She never bothered any of them and yet they continued to torment her day after day. She turned her eyes back up to the sky, waiting on that magical bird to come swoop her up.
Two minutes later, the tears were gone and anger replaced the sad expression on Jonquinette’s face. Jude had had enough.
Brenda and two of her groupies were in the little girls’ room cheesing in the mirrors and talking about going to the county carnival that weekend. They didn’t even glance at the door when Jude came in. Their mistake.
Jude slipped into a stall and closed the door, not bothering to lock it. She wouldn’t be in there but a few seconds. When she came back out, she had the ceramic toilet top in her hands, clutching it like a paddle. By the time they saw Jude bring it up over her head, it was too late. She was already swinging. She nailed Francine right across the stomach first. She screamed and fell down on her knees. Then she went for Rhonda, another student who constantly had Brenda’s back. Rhonda tried to duck but Jude stepped on her foot, causing her to stand back up partially to lift her foot and grab her toes. That’s when Jude got her across the right shoulder. Rhonda fell to the tile floor but was in too much pain to even voice a scream.
Brenda just stood there at first, wondering if she could make it to the door safely without getting a major beatdown. It was obvious that she couldn’t so she resorted to intimidation. “Fatty, you know you’re not gonna touch me with that. That would mean I’d have to beat you up every day for the rest of the school year.”
Jude let out this horrendous laugh. “You must think you’re talking to Jonquinette.”
Brenda eyed her with confusion.
“Sorry, Jonquinette’s not here right now.”
Brenda asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I have a message for you,” Jude responded. “Don’t ever talk to or touch Jonquinette again or you’ll have to deal with me.”
With that, Jude slammed the ceramic top across Brenda’s head and three teeth popped out of her mouth on impact. She hit her three more times with it: once more across the face, once in the ribs and once on the knee. Brenda lay motionless and Jude was satisfied. She looked in the mirror. While Jonquinette could stand to lose some weight, there were numerous kids her size or larger in second grade.
She stared at her reflection. “Don’t worry. I’m here to protect you.”
Jonquinette didn’t know what was happening. All she knew was that the physical education teacher, Mr. Turner, was restraining her for some reason. They were loading Brenda, Francine, and Rhonda into ambulances in front of the school. There were police cars in front of the building and everyone was glaring at her and shaking their heads.
She saw her parents pull up in their Volvo station wagon and practically jump the curb coming to a halt. The look on their faces as they emerged from the vehicle was frightening.
Jonquinette fell down on her knees and cried.
“What did I do?” she screamed out as her mother approached her with outstretched arms. “I didn’t do anything!”