Hole in the Head

Ronny Jenkins was born with a hole in his head.

“I can’t really explain it,” the doctor told Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins the day their son was born. “All I can tell you is he’s got a hole in his head, about a half-inch across, perfectly circular, just above the right ear. You can see his brain through it and everything. Spooky, eh?”

“Is it dangerous?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Maybe,” the doctor said.

“Can you cure it?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Of course,” the doctor said.

“Will our health insurance cover it?” Mr. Jenkins asked.

“No,” the doctor said — after a quick once-over of their policy.

So Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins took their newborn son home a few days later, hole in the head and everything. They managed to hide the hole from their neighbors by slapping a beanie with a little propeller on top onto Ronny’s head. They also grew out his fine yellow hair to cover it as he grew older.

“A little too long for a boy, don’t you think?” Mr. Jenkins asked, but he agreed it was more important to hide their son’s deformity than it was to rigorously follow the proper dictates of red-blooded American masculinity.

So everything was fine for a while.

Until several years later, when Ronny was about eight or nine years old. He woke up one morning to find his pillow covered with a thick blue slime, which was oozing from the hole in his head in a slow dribble. He tried to hide it from his parents by flipping the pillow over — which actually worked all right for the first day — but by the second day both sides of his pillow were covered in sticky blue slime.

“What is this?” Mrs. Jenkins asked when she found the pillow.

“It came out of the hole in my head.”

“It’s disgusting! It’s repulsive! And to think my own son would do something like this to his own mother… well, I’ll have to call the doctor and set up an appointment.

The doctor examined the hole in Ronny’s head. The doctor examined the blue slime and determined it was, in fact, raspberry flavored. The doctor did the “turn your head and cough” test for hernia because — well, because doctors just love doing that.

“I can’t really explain it,” the doctor said at last. “But it appears your son’s body has been producing blue slime from the day he was born. And now he’s built up so much of it that it’s oozing out of the hole in his head.”

“Is it dangerous?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Maybe,” the doctor said.

“Can you cure it?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Of course,” the doctor said.

“Will our health insurance cover it?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“No,” the doctor said — without even bothering to look at the policy.

But what the doctor did do was give them a little wine cork to stick in the hole in Ronny’s head. This stopped the blue slime from oozing out of his head all the time, even in his sleep. Although his mother insisted he grow out his hair even longer to cover up the cork, so before too long he had a full and luscious head of blond hair, well beyond shoulder length.

This caused no end of consternation to Mr. Jenkins, but even he had to agree the most important thing was that nobody know about the hole in his son’s head and the blue ooze that came out of it.

Which worked out just fine for a while. The Jenkinses looked like a perfectly normal and happy family, in front of the world, in front of God, and in front of Uncle Sam. Maybe even slightly more successful and slightly more happy than most families — which really was a bonus, you’d have to admit.

Ronny didn’t exactly mind keeping the secret. He didn’t like it, but you know how it is, it was one of those things he’d just grown up with, so he never thought about it. Sure, he spent pretty much every waking moment convinced there was something disastrously wrong with him that separated him from his peers and meant they wouldn’t ever understand him or accept him or care about him or love him or feel anything beyond a vague disgust verging on outright contempt for him — but really, show me one person on Earth who doesn’t feel that way literally all the time.

Ronny was just a normal kid, you know?

But then one day when he was about 15, Ronny — who was sitting in Biology class, in theory working on some very tedious questions on the structure of gametes, but in actuality trying very hard not to think about or even notice the curve of Amanda Hawk’s graceful neck as she sat in the desk in front of his, or about the scent of her perfume that made all this talk about gametes seem beyond pointless…

Anyway, what happened was that Ronny felt an intense pressure coming from within his ears, behind his eyes, and throughout his head. (Plus, you know — down there.) Imagine like an awful headache, but one where you felt like if it could only get bad enough it would disappear and dissolve into the purest peace you’ve ever known.

Well, that was something like what Ronny was feeling at the time.

And he didn’t know what to think. Granted, all thoughts of gametes were long gone and even Amanda Hawk’s supple skin was taking a backseat at the moment. But all he felt was the pressure in his head and throughout his body, building, building, building…

By the time he realized he should probably ask the teacher for a quick bathroom break, it was already far too late.

With a force like a shotgun blast, the cork burst out of the hole in Ronny’s head, followed by a jet of blue slime. But if that wasn’t bad enough, it also streamed out of his ears and eyes, soaking most of the classroom, most of the class, and (worst of all) most of Amanda Hawk.

And I really hate to mention it, but it also came out, you know — down there. Front and back. Positively ruined Ronny’s pants.

The room looked about like you’d expect. Sort of imagine a mix between a school shooting and a water balloon fight. Kids running around screaming, teachers yelling instructions even though no one is listening, desks tumbling over, papers (and even entire biology books) flying around, and Amanda Hawk being rapidly transformed into some rabid hentai-lover’s wet dream of Smurfette.

And at the middle of it all, a 15-year-old boy with a hole in his head, experiencing the purest relief and most abject humiliation he’s ever known in his life.

Plus the room smelled kinda nice. Like raspberries.

The room took several days to clean. In the meantime the biology class was moved to the school gym. The Principal of Ronny’s school at first wanted to suspend the boy for causing a wanton disruption in class. But Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins explained their son suffered from a unique medical condition that made outbreaks like this inevitable.

So the Principal made a quick call to the doctor.

And wouldn’t you know it? Suddenly it turned out an operation to cure Ronny’s condition was covered by the Jenkins’ insurance.