Often in story there is a good guy and a bad guy–white vs. black, if you will. In that classic structure good is supposed to triumph over evil after making a grand sacrifice that forever changes the hero. This is a reminder to us all that the nature of victory is pyrrhic and the nature of the universe arcs towards justice. Yet what is justice? Is Justice good? Is good not what we decide good is? Arianna Edgerton thought just that as she marched herself towards the principals office, nose bloodied. It was moments before the second period bell was to ring and she should have been headed for Mrs. Wellingham’s Social Studies class. Instead her universe arced in the opposite direction, towards Mrs. Wells and certain repercussions.
As Arianna walked she spoke to herself, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw” and again, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw.”
Principal Wells prided herself on an open door policy. Students were free to walk in whenever they wanted, so long as whenever they wanted did not interfere with the classes they were meant to be in at that time or the hurried shift between those classes. Arianna paid this, nor the assistant seated just outside that open door, any mind. She marched determinedly into the large blue walled office, wiping blood from her nose with the back of her hand.
“Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw” Her voice still little more than a whisper.
Mrs. Wells was on the phone. She watched Arianna with curiosity, realized the girl was bleeding, then quickly made an excuse to end the call. “What happened?!”
“Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw” Arianna said.
“I don’t understand.”
Arianna repeated the phrase, slightly louder this time.
“You need to tell me what happened. Ms. River, please bring the nurse!”
Arianna stared at Mrs. Wells, her feet set slightly apart and shoulders square. She said, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw”
Arianna wasn’t big. She hadn’t hit her growth spurt like so many other girls. While they were surging above five feet and some even developing, well, female traits, Arianna remained lithe and short of stature. She was not, however, light of voice. Her words came out in a rush of air and anger, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw!”
“W-what?”
Again the words poured out of Arianna.
“You have to calm down, young lady! You have to tell me what happened.”
Arianna fell silent. She stared at the principal long enough to make it uncomfortable. Through clenched teeth she growled, “”Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw.”
Mrs. Wells trained in college. She knew about trauma. She knew about autism. She wondered if this was either. She said, “You are going to need to tell me what happened, so that I can help.”
“Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw” Then, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw”, and a third time, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw.”
Mrs. Wells drew in a breath, but managed to fight off the sigh that inevitably tried to follow. She held her breath instead and then released, finally letting the air leave her in scattered huffs. Mrs. Wells said, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw?”
Arianna nodded. The nurse arrived then. She squatted down and turned the girl around slowly, examining her nose and then her knuckles which were raw beneath blood that was only partially Arianna’s own. The nurse looked up at the Principal and said, “There was an incident involving your son.”
Mrs. Wells covered her mouth, this time to avoid a gasp. She said, “Did he do this?”
Arianna said, “Jab, step, jab, step, kick, roundhouse, close, throw.”
The nurse squinted as though she were holding back an expression herself, and said “We’ve already called for an ambulance.”
Epezuxis: a literary or rhetorical device that appeals to or invokes the reader’s or listener’s emotions through the repetition of words in quick succession.