Georgie Porgie

For yesterday’s Daily Inklings prompt. Not exactly my favourite nursery rhyme, much more of a nightmare, this retelling of:

Georgie Porgie pudding and pie

Kissed the girls and made them cry

When the boys came out to play

Georgie Porgie ran away.

 

The fat boy waited alone for the school bus. He sat alone, the seat next to his never taken. He stared into the window, not out of it, as into a mirror, watching the other kids in the bus, watching the girls. Georgie sat alone in class, spoke rarely and only when spoken to first. He gave off an aura that the others found repellent and fascinating at the same time. Perhaps because he was fat and looked like a wild pig in his sports gear, and sweated when the sports coach made him run, faster, faster, his arms flailing, his legs pounding like flabby pistons. Georgie sat alone at lunchtimes eating a lunch he brought from home, thick and grey and greasy. Georgie watched Helena.

She knew he stared at her and it gave her the creeps. That was most likely why she was one of the ringleaders of his persecutors, among the first to start with the catcalls. She mocked and she threw barbs that she knew must hurt, but deep down she was afraid of what would happen if ever she found herself alone with him. Linking arms with a bevy of friends, she would pass his seat and accidentally kick over his bag, and when he bent to pick it up, accidentally kick away his chair, and in the depths of her eyes was a permanent flicker of fear. Georgie saw.

When he did catch her on her own, one snowy morning when the school bus was late, and Helena’s step-father had left her at the stop earlier than usual because he was in a hurry to get to work, what happened was inevitable. Georgie was fat, but he was strong, and nothing, not the falling snow or the cold, or the pristine whiteness that heaped up beneath the trees that ran alongside the road, could stop the fury in his blood. It pounded in his head, filled his hands, made him into a bull monster, no longer a wild pig.

He pulled her among the dark branches. Helena struggled but he was strong, and his lips were like a pig’s snout, damp and blubbery, filling the sky. Her screams were cut short by the blubbery snout and she thought she would be sick and drown on her vomit. Back at the roadside, the bus stop was filling up, slowly, and finally someone heard the muffled cries. Boys came running. Georgie dumped her and floundered away. Years later she would still hear his damp, heavy breath panting, the sweat sliding.

The boys caught up with Georgie. Taught him not to mess with girls who had tough boys to protect them. They stuck notes on his parents’ door, sent them hate mail, but it’s harder for poor people to move away than it is for rich people, and Helena never rid herself of the fear that small porcine eyes were watching her from the bushes, from behind the parked cars. Even when she finally moved away to the city, the damp sounds of suction and the heavy panting breath were still there in the deep shadows between the streetlights.

 

 

 

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

21 thoughts on “Georgie Porgie”

      1. There’s such a lot of hypocrisy too, like the no swearing, drinking, canoodling in books for teenagers, as if they don’t do it, don’t know about it and will be permanently damaged by exposure to ‘sin’.

      2. Ah, ‘sin.’ Adults underestimate the capacity of children and teens to make informed judgements. As well as consign to the dustbin our own childhood experiences.

      3. It seems to be a common hang up, which, unless you’re religious, doesn’t have any sense. There’s an awful lot of anger vented about unsuitable words, and very little about unsuitable behaviour or moral outlook.

  1. What a retelling! What a vision, what a fear, what a loathing. I am reminded of when I figured out what the rhyme Ring a Ring of rosies, a pocket full of posies… meant! And we all fall down!!! Dead!

    1. I’m sure that’s what this one was intended to be about. I have a feeling that Georgie Porgy was the fat and repulsive Prince Regent who probably did far more chasing of young girls than anything remotely like ruling a country.

      1. I agree! I just watched the movie The Favourite and judging by that, which was wonderful, it looked like royalty played a lot more than they ruled!

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