POLITICAL FICTION CLASS:
Assignment: Write a fictional scene where protest occurs in an everyday, non-political setting such as a family dinner, a workplace, or a school. How does a character protest something unjust or unfair in their everyday environment? What are the repercussions of their stand?
 
SHELIA’S ‘WEAR’
Sheila had never felt that her life was repressed, until she walked through the school doors on her first day of high school. Her feelings of awe and wonderment concerning being a freshman, a young adult quickly turned to embarrassment and shame. No other girl in the hallway was dressed as she. Her normal attire that consisted of an ankle length skirt and long sleeve sweater set her apart from all the other girls. Their miniskirts and low-cut tops sent a shock wave through her. With a small sob she realized that she was not in Kansas any longer.

The day only got worse when preparing for gym class, she had to stirp to her underwear and change into the standard gym uniform. The other girls in their more revealing undergarments, snickered at her iron maiden bra and granny panties. She never looked up from the floor during the hour in the gymnasium and taking her street clothing into a bathroom stall, changed there, away from prying eyes.

Immediately after arriving home, she cried, pleaded and begged her mother to resend or ease her father’s strict dress code.

Her mother, a timid woman who believed the Pastors’ instructions that she should submit to her husband, showed no sympathy. Rather her mother rebuked her sinful request, admonished her not to upset her father and sent her to her room.

Her father, a lowly paid bank teller, served as an Elder in the First Christian Church. He forbade those of female persuasion in the household to bear their ankles or shoulders in public. He further dictated that the waistbands of all clothing must ride above the belly button, eliminating the chance it might peek out. 

Rebellion filled her thoughts that night and as she tossed, unable to sleep, she devised a plan. A part of the babysitting money she earned from watching the Crosby children down the street would be squirreled away and when enough had been saved, she would buy more trendy undies.

On a chilled September day a few weeks later, pocket full of quarters and dollar bills, she told her mother she was taking the bus into town to purchase school supplies at Woolworths. Her actual plan though was to visit the Ladies Intimate Wear department at Hudsons.

Stepping off the bus, she thrust her shoulders back, lifted her head high and began to march to her destination. By the time she reached the store displays, her head had drooped  and she could not bring herself to gaze at the intentional purchases.

Her mind raced. What was she doing? What a horrible and ungrateful girl she was! What if someone saw her and reported her to her parents?

Just as she was to turn and run from the store, an elderly female clerk stepped beside her and whispered in her ear. “May I assist you dear? Is there something you are looking for in particular?”

Only a stammer could be forced from her lips. Her mind would not allow words to be formed. Tears began to build up and threatened to flow down her cheeks.

With a warm laugh, the clerk slid her arm around Shelia’s shoulders and giving her a hug, spoke softly. “Come with me, I know just what you want.”

A short time later in the privacy of the rear seat of the bus, Sheila opened a Hudson’s bag and removing the contents hid them in her purse. The bag was neatly folded and stuffed into the back crack of the seat.

Her purchases that day, recommended by the kind clerk included an unpadded bra with no underwires and slight lace trim. A matching pair of bikini rise briefs was included, complete with the lace trim. Both were in white, which she giggled about when she thought about it. How virginal and how risky, all at the same time.

These forbidden items resided in the back of a dresser drawer under a pile of sweaters. For a number of days she could not find the courage to wear them. Rather talking them out in the late night, she would stroke the soft material and feel the roughness of the lace.

On a fateful day a few weeks later, she mustered the courage to ask permission to attend the Fall Harvest Dance at school. She knew the answer would be no, yet she did not expect the response she received. Her mother immediately turned red and spittle joining the horrible words coming from her mouth. Hurt and rejected, bursting into tears she ran to her room. How could her own mother use such words to describe her?

After the tears had dried, she laid staring at the peeling ceiling and developed a plan. Each night before dinner she would change into the hidden underwear and flaunt it, albeit under her street clothing at dinner.

That night and each night until she ran away from home, she would sit at the dinner table and feel the lace softly marking her skin. Her breath would quicken as the roughness of her sweaters was felt on her thinly clad breasts. She would defiantly and secretively stick her finger in her belly button exposed below the table top as her father said grace. Her bottom would wiggle in the chair top, feeling naked in the thin material of her panties.

She would smile at her parents and respond politely to their questions while thinking, “You may think you control me with your suppression, but I am winning this war.’
 
Roy Richard
September 2024