His father had his back to him with his shirt and pants off but wore white underwear with red patterns shaped like diamonds on them. The underwear matched a white tie tied loosely around his neck, which he often left tied after he disrobed, because the ladies who frequented the backwoods cabana where he drank and gambled, told him how handsome he looked in it while he was there. He was flabby in the middle with moles spotting up his rickety back and had saggy muscles where biceps used to be. In the effulgence of the room his flesh appeared bone white. His legs were as pale as death but the hair which grew in little circles around them made them appear he got tangled in a black fish net and now wore it for stockings. A brown fedora set tilted on his head, covering his bald spot and most of his thinning salt and pepper colored hair. And he had a sixteen inch butcher knife in one hand and a yellow raincoat on a coat hanger in the other. His step mother stood on her bed with her back to the window, clasping the window frames with her hands. Gasping for air and moaning like a crying animal, her alarmed eyes were frozen on the knife. His father was leaning toward her, moving the blade right to left, daring her to guess which way to run. “Is it yess? Or is it nooo?” he asked, his voice smooth and evil. “Are ye gonna put thisss onnn? Or are ye gonna dieee?” He lurched at her belly with the knife but withdrew the thrust when the tip of the blade touched her white nightgown. She shrieked and sucked in her tummy as she launched to her tip toes. Stiff as a board she cried out with a shrill scream. “Brick! Brick! Stop it Brick!” She pleaded. “Let me go to the pot, Brick! I need the pot! Please Brick!” “Is it yessss? Or is it nooo?” he asked again, rotating the knife in small circles, his tender tone sinking to a mischievous whisper. He lunged at her with the pretense he was going to run her through with the blade. She shrieked again and attempted to shield her stomach by bending her knee and turning sideways. Roaring with an obnoxious guffaw he shuffled his feet and faked a jab, causing her to lose her balance and retreat back to feet. “No! No! Never! Git away from me! Git away! You whoremonger!” “You been with her ain’t you!” she snapped at him again. “I smell her stinkin perfume! She was there wouldn’t she! Wouldn’t she! Go take a stinkin bath in water! In scaldin hot water!” “Shew! Shewwee! You stink!” she continued to scoff. “You couldn’t find nobody that don’t smell like a stinkin skunk and look like a stinkin goat! You smell like a stinkin goat! Did you pull her whiskers? Huh? Did you? Huh?” “No! Why don’t your stinkin tramp wear it? You know why! Cause your afraid she’ll look like a pile of goat cheese! That’s why! Git! Git! Git away from me!” “Git off at bed and put this on before I cut that slip off you!” the old man barked sharply, shaking the raincoat at her. He swung the butcher knife with a haymaker, grazing the gown under her breast. “EEEEEEEE!” she shrieked, releasing her grip on the window frame as she flung her arms cross ways to try to get as flat against the wall as she could. She slammed her backside against the window and her butt went into the glass and broke it. “EEEEE!” she shrieked again, startled by the pop of the glass. “Brick! Brick!” she cried out in horror, staring at the broken glass around her bare feet that looked like flat pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. “You’re gonna kill me Brick! Stop it! Stop it! AAAAAAAA! I’m bleeding! AAAAA! My runt, I’m cut! My foot! My foot! AAAAA!” “Please let me git down! Please let me git down!” she begged, tiptoeing in place like a ballet dancer, as she tried to look at her feet and touch her butt and watch his hand at the same time. His father leaned over and stabbed the bed sheet in front of her toes. “AAAAAAAA!” she screamed in panic, jerking her most threatened foot away, and then with the leg that foot was on, tried to climb up her other leg. The old man stabbed the mattress in front of her lowered foot. “Does that hurt?” he growled. “AAAAAA!” she screamed again as she came down on her raised foot and lifted the one being attacked. “Does that hurt?” he roared with a guffaw, and stabbed in front of her toes again. “Yeeeeeeeeee!” she screamed shrilly. “Does that hurt, huh?” he chided, and began puncturing the mattress with repetitive blows around her feet, causing her to dance in terror and scream hysterically as the broken glass bounced on the bed sheet. “Ok! Ok! Eeeee! I’ll put it on Brick! I’ll put it on, give it, give it, give it to me!” she pleaded. She released the wall and snatched the yellow rain coat out of his hand as he raised head back up. With trembling hands she wrestled with the rain coat until she slid her arms into it and nervously tried to button it. “Are you hungry Brick?” she asked with words that trembled softly and sweetly, as if it was but the end of his work day and there wasn’t a quarrel between them. “You must be hungry baby, “she said, the tone in her gentle voice feeble, sounding as though she wanted to cry. “Let me fix you a plate, you need to eat baby.” The old man relaxed the muscles in his arm that gripped the knife and began lowering it, when suddenly she kicked him in the groin as hard as she could. “Gggmmph!” he gasped, wincing in pain as his knees buckled and he dropped the knife. He clutched his crotch with both hands and began moving his head in small circles. Leaning forward, she screamed in his face: “Whore-monger!”, and then leaned back, and kicked through his hands and into his testicles again. “Too bad you got a pair!” she yelled as she chuckled. “Hummmpgh!” he groaned as he bent over; and then began to stagger backwards to try to get out of range of her deadly leg. She stepped to the edge of the bed, standing over him, as he breathed deeply, and she screamed into the back of his ears: “Your so fat, you ain’t seen your thang in a year! Well let me tell you something about it!” She tried to kick him there again, but likely kicked him in the face, as she screamed: “It’s black and blue!” He waddled on backwards, still hunkered down, and leaned his butt against the stove and began to moan and gasp for air. She took a step to the side and leaped off the foot of the bed. Her feet barely tapped the hardwood floor when she landed, and in another stride she vanished through the dark doorway that entered the https://amazon/author/onebrickshy
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 02:05:01 +0000
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