The Violence of Grape Popsicles in the Fall

by Claudia Monpere

Alison Marras

Janine and Haley were playing happily outdoors which relieved me because Janine didn’t like Haley the new kid who was a little weird but Haley’s mother and I were co-room mothers so I’d scheduled a playdate and when I asked Haley how many popsicle sticks her mother had for Monday’s picture frame project and she said 500 the tiny child inside me was jealous because I had only 298 but I said that’s great and honey why don’t you take your sweater off it’s 90 degrees but Haley shook her head and clutched her sweater which I thought was odd but with three young children ideas swam in and out of my brain as quickly as a sailfish and three-year-old Jason was trying to give baby Maeve a popsicle as she napped in her stroller and Janine was waving her dripping popsicle too close to her light pink princess costume but I decided to hell with the stains when the kids wanted a second popsicle because I needed all the popsicle sticks I could get so we all ate more popsicles and Maeve woke cheerful from her nap and it was an utterly delightful afternoon in spite of the heat

but as we got ready to walk Haley home I learned my husband accidentally threw all the popsicle sticks away which I’d been collecting since preschool when I learned about this project and Amazon couldn’t deliver popsicle sticks on time and the craft store was out so when we walked Haley home that afternoon her mother Kate offered to give me half of hers because she understood how weird I’d feel coming to kindergarten empty handed but then she said she didn’t know where the popsicles sticks were her house was a mess she’d bring them by on the weekend and she had to get going since there was something boiling on the stove but then Jason screamed I need to pee and I begged her to let him use their bathroom since he was this close to getting kicked out of pre-school for having so many accidents and our toilet training consultant said we needed to always have a toilet handy so Kate let us in and it seemed odd that in such a spotless house she couldn’t find the popsicle sticks but I figured later would be fine

but when she didn’t get in touch with me by Sunday evening I told my husband I would buy up all the popsicles I could find and melt them in the microwave and he said you’re nuts and I said you don’t know how it is I am the worst room mother ever burning cookies and buying cheap supermarket cupcakes and bringing dried glue sticks to the classroom and then I decided to walk to Haley’s house and ask her mother right then and there for half of her popsicle sticks so I wouldn’t again look like an idiot in front of the teacher tomorrow and I walked the two blocks irritated at Kate for not answering my texts but no one answered when I rang and finally Haley answered and said Mommy’s sick and I said sweetie I’m so sorry to bother your mommy but tell her I need the popsicle sticks now and I can take them all tomorrow since she’s sick and Haley disappeared and then her father appeared all smiles and apologies and I saw Kate in the background wearing a bathrobe and sunglasses and her husband shouted honey go back to bed you need to rest and he said sorry and shut the door and I knew something was very wrong

but I had to have the popsicle sticks and that night my husband drove to multiple stores for popsicles which we melted and washed and dried and I drove to school the next morning with Janine feeling free and happy the popsicle sticks in my car my husband home for the morning watching Maeve so I’d have time to grab a coffee after I helped the class make their picture frames but it was odd that the parking lot was filled with so many parents talking and Janine and I barely walked a few steps from our car when the gossipy mom with the red pony tail grabbed my shoulder and said have you heard what a tragedy who even owns a gun in this neighborhood and I flashed to a few weeks ago when Kate came over for coffee so we could plan room mother stuff and practice the craft project for the kids and she reached for my craft box in the closet because she’s way taller than me and that movement raised her shirt briefly and there was a large purple bruise on her stomach and a smaller faded one on her side and I forced myself to rein in my imagination and my worry and we busied ourselves with rick rack and buttons and glue guns.

---

Claudai Monpere’s flash fiction and CNF appear or are forthcoming in Smokelong Quarterly, Pidgeonholes, The Forge, River Teeth, Fictive Dream, and elsewhere. Her poetry and short stories appear in such places as The Cincinnati Review, New Ohio Review, Hunger Mountain, and The Kenyon Review. She is a recipient of a Hedgebrook residency and second prize in Vestal Review’s 2022 food themed flash fiction contest. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area and tweets @ClaudiaMonpere.