FENDRIX

Fendrix was called a wierdo at school.

Wierdo, wierdo went the chant, all day long.

In the end he began to think it was his proper name. Wierdo.

Every day the other kids ignored who he really was and just saw the outside, his spots, his specs, his baby face.

Even the Year 6 teacher seemed to join in, always asking him stuff in front of the others, embarrassing him.

He went home with their name-calling ringing in his ears, only stopping when he slammed the front door shut on the world and saw his Mum, who always met him in the hallway.

He looked at her. He’d stopped taking his medication for a few weeks now but his Mum had no idea. He was sick of feeling like a zombie, but his moods seemed to be getting worse.

Fendrix didn’t say a lot to his Mum when he got in. She had learnt to leave him alone most of the time and just be there for him when he needed it. Mealtimes. Getting ready for school and briefly when he got home. 

The rest of the time he spent alone in his room. She had tried to get him to go outside in the sun but had given up long ago. Fendrix was happiest with just himself and life was easier that way.

As normal he went upstairs to his room, locked his door from the inside and sat down on the carpet to admire his Action Men. He had a lot of Action Men and had arranged them in the same way as his school class in year 6.

Each Action Man represented a kid in the class and he’d managed to get hold of some Sindy’s for the handful of girls. They sat on chairs in front of tables. Some he’d made and some were toys.

Fendrix was the teacher of this plastic rabble and it was he who decided who to embarrass or not.

This was his class.

“Ratton, you rodent, tell me the name of your mother”

“Barbie” replied the Action Man Ratton.

“Wrong Ratton! She’s called bitch! Slut bitch! What’s she called Ratton?” 

boomed Mr. Fendrix prodding the doll-boy firmly with his wooden ruler.

“Slut Bitch, Sir”.

“Correct! And Arbuckle, you great thick pudding, am I in charge of this class and all the horrible scrotes in it?”

Leaning over, Fendrix pulled the cord at the back of the Talking Action Man.

“Yes Sir!” “Yes Sir!” “Yes Sir!” …….

The cord must have jammed as Arbuckle-man didn’t stop talking.

“Stop talking boy!” screamed Fendrix.

“No!” blurted the doll and suddenly stood up out of its chair. It raised its articulated arms and shrieked:

“No! You wierdo!”

Fendrix stared at the doll and stood up, towering over it with his ruler. The doll craned its neck backwards and stared upwards at him.

“You fuckin’ wierdo!” it said again.

Suddenly all the dolls got up out of their chairs and began to chant in unison as they moved closer to the front;

“Weird! Weirdo! Weirdo! Weirdo!”

Fendrix was dumbfounded: uncontrollably furious and frightened in equal measure and ran out of his bedroom panting. He stood on the landing in his school shorts trying to catch his breath, large tears of rage forming in his eyes.

They were just as bad as the kids at school, those fuckin dolls.

His Mum had been decorating the bathroom and had left a box of tools outside. Fendrix noticed the big box of beige masking tape rolls and picked one out. 

He nailed the end of it and pulled a long piece from the roll. It made a satisfying ripping sound as he tore it off and Fendrix smiled.

He returned to his ‘class’, where all the toy children were sat back in their seats silent and still.

Fendrix walked round the back of the group with the masking tape hidden behind his back.

Arbuckle.

He would pay, the little bastard.

Fendrix grabbed hold of the Talking Action Man. It struggled in his hands and mumbled as the boy smothered its loose mouth.

“Mm”, “Mm”, “Mm” it stuttered through Fendrix’s fingers tightening round its velvety head.

“I’ll show you Arbuckle! I’ll show you, you fuckin ingrate! You won’t be saying much after this!”

Clasping the writhing doll, Fendrix began to bind the masking tape around it’s legs. First its boots and khaki trousers were completely bound, then its ammo belt, arms, camo jacket and finally its chin.

To finish its head off Fendrix had to uncover the mouth, at which point the doll, glaring at the boy with eagle eyes, blurted out “We’re  gonna fuckin get you for this wierdo, you just wait till tomorrow, we’re gonna fuckin have you!”

Fendrix taped his mouth finally shut and viewed his handiwork.

He’d done a good job. None of Arbuckle’s body was showing at all. He’d mummified him like King Tut! The boy chuckled at the thought and placed the taped doll back in its place, straight and stiff.

By midnight he had taped up his entire class of Action Men and Sindys. They leant against their chairs erect like the dead. Fendrix was thrilled. There was no more back chat and no more name calling.

He went to bed happy clutching Arbuckle.

In the morning Fendrix was unusually sunny thought his Mum. He wolfed down his reddy brek, pretended to take his meds and got ready for school, the last day before Summer when kids could take in any food, games and music they wanted.

Freedom beckoned and the prospect of a long carefree holiday shone like a jar of new scissors.

He gave his Mum a kiss and headed out of the door carrying a large shoulder bag.

“What have you got in the bag son?” she asked.

“Tapes Mum. Just tapes.” Said Fendrix smiling.