Thanks to everyone who made me so prolific this week
This is just a spot of fun. As they all are but this is a little more so than most.
Feminine Wiles
Since Mummy was still in bed, Katie pulled a kitchen chair over to the counter and stretched to reach the colourful cereal box. Making her own breakfast was no big deal. She did it at least a couple days a week and hadn't been surprised when Mummy didn't appear this morning.
Last night had been a doozy.
Katie scraped the chair across the floor until she reached the cabinet containing the chipped china bowls.
Doozy was Mummy's favorite word. Sometimes when her face was all puffed up, it sounded like she was saying boozy. Doozy boozy; boozy doozy; treat the bottle like a floozie.
After placing a bowl on the table next to the cereal box, Katie pushed the chair back in place and retrieved a spoon.
She almost dropped the bottle of milk when she closed the refrigerator door and saw her father lurching in scrubbing his unshaven chin with one hand.
"Yer mother is goin' tae sleep in the day."
Katie nodded mutely.
He coughed, spat into the sink. "I wish you could make ma breakfast but yer far tae young tae serve booze ain't ye young un?."
Laughing as if he'd made a good joke, Katie offered him some of her cereal.
"Ta anyway." He took a bottle down from the drink cabinet, spun the cap so it flew off and landed on the counter. He winked at his daughter.
She smiled.
"Nothin beats a wee tot in the mornin but ye'd better get movin now or ye'll miss yer bus."
Katie sat at the table, poured cereal into the bowl while her father poured whiskey down his throat. "Did you sign my report card? I have to bring it in today."
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I haven't had a chance. Where is the thing?"
"Right here on the table."
He took a step towards her. "Are you gettin' smart wie me?"
"No." Katie's stomach clenched.
"Just ye remember who's the boss around here."
"Yes, sir."
He plonked the bottle down next to the milk and picked up her report card, looking it over with reddened bleary eyes. "Hmm. Better than I ever did fer sure." He laughed. "When I was yer age, I smacked the kids around who got report cards like this."
"I'm not a very good fighter."
He grinned. "Ye must take after yer maw."
As her father took a pen from the jar and signed his name, Katie lifted the bottle of milk. She fumbled when she started to pour and watched the milk splatter all over everything.
"Damn it lass! Look what ye've done."
She laid the bottle down again before she dropped it. "I'm sorry."
His arms were flying as though practicing the swing. "You soaked your report card. Your teacher is going to be real happy about that."
"It was an accident."
"What's the hell's wrong with ye?"
Katie paused. "He touches me."
Her father stopped patting the table with a clump of paper napkins. "Whit? Who touches ye?"
Katie kept her eyes lowered. "Mr. Lane."
"Who the hell's Mr. Lane?"
"My teacher."
"Yer teacher touches ye? That durty bastard."
"He makes me stay behind when the rest of the kids go out for break."
"Did ye tell anyone?"
"No." She looked up, a tear running down her cheek. "I've been afraid."
Her father drank more whiskey, picked up a chair and threw it across the kitchen to crash into the oven. "I'll kill the bastard."
"It's Room 217."
"Room 217?" Her father jabbed a finger at Katie. "Your Mr. Lane will regret the day he was fuckin born."
Katie hunched over her bowl as her father pounded out of the room, slammed the cupboard door against the wall, swore as he emptied the top shelf onto the floor. She heard him mutter and then hoot with victory.
He returned with a hammer in his hand. "Don't you worry your pretty lil' head. Your father is going to teach this Mr. Lane a thing or two."
"They won't let you into the school."
He pounded his chest. "Just let them try and stop me."
"There's a back entrance that leads to the cafeteria kitchen. It's next to the loading area." Katie licked lips which had gone bone dry.
"Mebbe I'll grab an apple as I go through, shove it up his arse." Her father took another swig of whiskey before taking the bottle with him as he staggered out the side door.
Katie listened to the car screech away.
She smiled as she poured milk over her cereal.
Mummy would be so happy he didn't come home tonight.
And unless her father's aim was pitiful, Katie wouldn't have to redo her art project either.
