Cooties & Dinosaurs

RJ has a theory that cooties aren't real. And now he plans to prove it.

Russell Greene was probably the only kindergartner in all of Ross Grove County who thought that this whole apparent “cooties epidemic” was all a load of cat dung.

Who could blame him? At least, from his perspective, there were a million holes in the theory. First of all, if girls had “cooties”, why would his dad risk marrying his mom? They were in close quarters all the time, living in the same house, and yet neither of them ever displayed symptoms of some sort of fatal disease. He had even caught several teenagers at his dad’s work (the local high school) sharing saliva, and they seemed perfectly fine afterwards.

Russell had considered that “cooties” only attacked the younger, weaker immune systems of three-to-six-year-olds, but, in that case, why didn't the teachers separate the boys and the girls to prevent infection?

Plus, “cooties” wasn't a very convincing-sounding disease name, leading Russell to believe that the so-called “cooties” was invented by children, like him, intent on spreading fear between the genders.

Unfortunately, his theories weren't very popular with the other kids in Mrs. Carter’s kindergarten class. Not that Russell really minded; the boy usually kept to himself, anyways, only ever interacting with others when forced.

One day, as he sat down on the grass during recess, his nose in a Magic Tree House book while the other children played on the jungle gym. That particular day, he had been thinking about “cooties” quite a bit, and wanted to test his theory. Unfortunately, whenever he came near a girl, they all ran from him, in fear of the fictitious virus.

But the urge just kept pushing and pushing at him. All he would need was simple contact, really; a tap on the shoulder, a high-five, or maybe even being in close quarters with the subject for a certain period of time. It would be that simple.

He decided that he was going to risk his well-being for science. And, if he caught some sort of fatal infection in the process, so be it, but he just had to know.

Russell closed his book and surveyed the playground. There were kids on the monkey bars, kids sliding down the slide, kids playing tag. Plenty of kids, but no females who would be willing to partake in this experiment. Unless….

There, in the sandbox, playing with the dinosaur figures, sat Candace George, the girl everyone called Crazy Candace. She was very jumpy and loud and smiley; always had something caught in her ridiculously long hair, be it dead leaves, ketchup, or even small toys. And, on rainy days, she always somehow managed to arrive coated head-to-toe in mud, as if she had purposely rolled in it. However, she didn't seem to be afraid of anything, so she would be the perfect candidate.

But Candace was crazy, and Russell had yet to conclude whether crazy was contagious or not.

Russell let out a sigh, convincing himself it was all for science.

Plus, he did like dinosaurs…

Soon enough, he found himself standing behind Candace, and tapped. The girl turned her head, long blond hair spinning with it, to see who had signaled her.

“Can I play with you?” Russell asked, all business.

Candace looked surprised for a moment, before a wide grin (revealing several black holes where teeth should have been) overcame her face, “Sure!”

Russell plopped himself down onto the sand next to her, immediately assessing himself for symptoms. Candace, on the other hand, turned to him, holding two figurines. “Do you wanna be the brontosaurus or the T-rex?” she asked.

“Uh…” Russell hesitated, before making his decision, “Brontosaurus.” Candace gave him the corresponding toy, before tossing the T-rex aside, and grabbing a pterodactyl for herself.

“What’s his name?” Candace asked.

Russell was confused, “Who’s name?”

“Your dinosaur’s, silly,” she explained.

He shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You’re supposed to make one up yourself!” Candace said.

Russell paused, before saying, “Bob.”

“No, no,” Candace giggled, “Don’t give him a boring name! Give him a tough name, like,” she held up her dinosaur, “’Tina, The Pterodactyl of Terror!’”

“Tina isn't a very tough-sounding name,” Russell pointed out, effectively bursting Candace’s bubble.

“That’s why I added ‘Pterodactyl of Terror’ onto the end,” Candace huffed, “Now what’s your dinosaur’s name?”

Russell thought for a moment, before declaring, “’Bob, The Behemoth Brontosaurus.”

“Behemoth?” Candace asked, “Is that like the ride at Wonderland?”

The boy paused, debating explaining what ‘behemoth’ actually meant, ultimately deciding against it. “Sure.”

And so the epic battle of Tina The Pterodactyl of Terror vs. Bob The Behemoth Brontosaurus began, only pausing so the pair could argue over technical difficulties.

“Candace, pterodactyls don’t have laser vision.”

“How do you know that for sure, Smarty-Pants?”

But they had fun nonetheless. And, when Mrs. Carter finally called them in, Candace said to Russell, “My name’s Candace, by the way. Candace Mahira George. What’s yours?”

“Russell Joshua Greene,” he replied.

“Russell Joshua?” Candace repeated, “Can I call you RJ for short?”

“Uh…” Russell didn't get it, “Sure. But why?”

“Y’know, Russell Joshua, RJ,” Candace elaborated. Russell still looked blank, so she added, “It’s a cooler name. Easier to spell, too.”

Russell agreed, and they re-entered the classroom together.

While the other children were now focused on story time, Russell focused on evaluating his experiment. So far he had yet to display any symptoms, and he didn't seem to be going crazy either. In fact, Candace wasn't even all that crazy, now that he thought about it.

But, at the end of the day, Russell had more than two proven hypotenuses.

For the very first time in his life, Russell Greene had a friend.

Author's Note

This is basically a little idea I had about two of my characters, Candace and RJ, and how they met. It's just cuteness. That's all.

Reviews

[Lukie LeDoux]

That was effing adorable. I think it'd be impossible for anyone to read this and not connect with it in some way. Hell, if someone didn't, I'd accuse them of being hatched from an egg.

[Claire Twinn]

This is as sweet as childrens' innocence, it only everything in life could be like this.. Lovely writing.

[marie]

awwwww. you bet thats cute great detail loves it :)