GINGERZILLA!

"Dinosaur Park" by Carlos Sarta

A parody of Gingerella. Yes, I did a parody on my own work. It made me laugh thinking of it.

Ginger Ellen swung her head back and forth, her red-haired ponytails brushing her cheeks. No predators ahead on the road. She skittered forward.

“Mom!” she called back. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Excuse me, dear.” Mom rolled her green eyes and picked up Ginger’s toddler brother. “Greg Elliot isn’t cooperating.” Greg grabbed Mom’s glasses and tossed them onto the gravel.

Ginger Ellen stopped and snarled. “I’m gonna be late to my first day of first grade.”

“You’re just going to have to wait.” Mom bent over and squinted her eyes. “Blast it! I can’t find my glasses.” She pawed through the gravel with her free hand while Greg Elliot pulled her brown hair. “Ginger Ellen, I need your help.”

“Grr.” While sniffing the air, she squatted and stalked forward.  She bent her head to the ground and snatched the glasses with her teeth. She rose and stood patiently before her mother.

“Thank you, Ginger Ellen.” Mom grabbed the glasses from her mouth and wiped them off. “But use your fingers next time. I’m not fond of scratches on my lenses.” Mom shoved the glasses askew on her face. Greg reached for glasses again. “Stop!” Mom slapped Greg’s hand and he howled.

“Let’s go!” Ginger Ellen bounded forward on her toes and her arms tucked in front.

Mom jogged and Greg Elliot screeched happily with each bounce. Mom smiled at him and then at Ginger Ellen.

Ginger Ellen spotted the school with big crayon pillars. “I can get to school from here, Mom.”

“Are you sure?” Mom stopped. “Do you remember where your class is?”

“Of course.” Ginger Ellen mentally reviewed the place from Back to School night. “I’m always aware of my surroundings.”

“Okay. Love you.” Mom blew kisses. “Please act like a human!”

“Dinosaurs nuzzle, not blow kisses.” Ginger Ellen rolled her head back. “But I can be human sometimes. Love you too.” When would her mother learn the ways of the wild?

She sprinted forward to the other kids at the crosswalk. She grinned from ear-to-ear at the girl next to her, but the girl looked the other way. Ginger Ellen frowned.

Finally, the crossing guard led them across the street. Ginger Ellen gazed up at the tall crayon columns until the crowd bumped her forward. She moved with the crush through the front door. She resisted clawing her way through.

She looked at the three directions to go and lifted her nose. She smelled the skunky perfume of her teacher down the hall to her right. She checked her hands real quick. I scribble with my right hand…so my right.

Ginger Ellen followed the herd of kids into her classroom. She looked around for her name on one of the desks. It wasn’t there! Surely her nose hadn’t led her astray.

“Mrs. Miller, where’s my seat?” she approached the teacher and winced at the perfume.

“Over there, Ginger.” Mrs. Miller pointed to the third desk from the door on the front row.

“But my name’s not just Ginger—”

“Please be seated, Ginger.”

She hung her head down. People never got her name right.

“Hello, class. I’m so excited to get to know you this year.” Mrs. Miller stood behind her desk. “Now, let’s do roll call.” She stooped to reach her laptop.

Ginger Ellen looked at the other kids as their names were called. There were so many unfamiliar faces in this herd.

“Ginger, Ginger…I’m calling your name.” Mrs. Miller looked at her.

Ginger Ellen snapped to attention. “My name’s not Ginger. It’s Ginger Ellen.”

“Okay.” Mrs. Miller typed a note on her computer. “I’ll remember that in the future.”

The class giggled. She growled and scratched her desk.

“Gingerzilla,” a boy whispered behind her.

Ginger Ellen jerked around her head, her ponytails stinging her cheeks. “I like that name!”

“Calm down, class.” Mrs. Miller said.

Gingerzilla. She liked the sound of that and bared her teeth while smiling.

What should Gingerzilla do next?