'Primers for young readers: Flick and Jane go to school' by Cheryl Markosky

My name is Flick. My friend is Jane. Tomorrow, we go to school.
Mother says I will go across the road. Jane a long way away.

“Why?” I ask Mother.
“Because she's Catholic."
“Surely this is an accident," I say.
“No,” Mother says.

“Can I go with Jane to her Catholic school?” I ask Mother.
“No,” she says.
“Why not?” 
“Because you are not a Catholic,” Mother says.
“What is a Catholic?"
“Someone who has lots of babies."

Jane has a baby doll called Bess.
“She will have more babies,” says Mother.
“Will they be accidents?” 
“Yes and no,” says Mother.

“Can I go to school with Jane and have babies that are accidents?” 
“No,” says Mother.
“Why not?” 
“If you go to Jane’s school and sit on the swing you might have an accident, you might get pregnant."
“What is pregnant?” I ask.
“Having a baby,” Mother says.

I like the idea of pregnant, of having a baby like Bess. Bess has blue eyes and blonde hair like Jane. I have brown eyes and brown hair.

Mother says I must not sit on the swing at Jane’s long way away school and be pregnant. Mother says I am a Protestant. 
“Do Protestants sit on swings and have babies like Catholics?” I ask.
“Yes and no,” Mother says.

I am confused. 

“Catholics and Protestants sound the same," I say.
“They are not,” says Mother. “Catholics have more babies.”
Catholics have many Besses. I want to be a Catholic. Mother says no.

I want to sit on the swing at Jane’s school. I want an accident. I want a Bess. I want Jane.

My name is Flick. My friend is Jane. Tomorrow, I go to school. I go to school across the road. Jane goes to school a long way away.

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Cheryl Markosky has had teensy stories published in New Flash Fiction Review, Janus Literary, Retreat West, The Molotov Cocktail, Mslexia and others. She writes about fathers turning into centaurs, Grandma's shrunken head decorating a tiki bar, a dog in season and more...