posted on Apr, 27 2015 @ 11:17 AM
Daddy’s hard calloused hand cracked me across the face and head. Bright white light lit up behind my eyes like stars and my ears rang. My head
hurt something awful and I felt the left side of my face puffin’ up. I tasted blood.
“Did you not hear what I just said, you useless piece of crap? I told
you to take out that damned trash. Now, get.”
A special report had come on the radio just before I got walloped. That’s what I’d been listening to, instead of Daddy. The radio guy was
talkin’ about somebody messin’ with the graves out at Green Hills. That’s the grave yard out at the edge of town. I didn’t get the rest of
what he was sayin’ because Daddy snapped the radio off just then.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know you are,” Daddy said and just stood there glarin’ and breathin’ heavy.
I grabbed my blue jacket off its hook by the door and shrugged into it as fast as I could without another word. It doesn’t do to rile Daddy when
he’s havin’ one of his bad days. He was madder than a two-tailed cat when he came home from job hunting and he was already half way into his
second bottle. I knew I’d be walkin’ on egg shells the rest of the night as it was. I took out the full bag and switched it with a new one,
nice and neat the way Daddy likes. He grunted and walked into the livin’ room to drink in the dark. We don’t have a TV because Daddy smashed the
screen in when we found out who our next president is. He beat me for that the next day, on account I didn’t stop him; like a little ten year old
like me could stop a big man like him from doin’ stuff. I knew better than tellin’ him that; though.
It was dark and the cool spring air made my face feel better where I’d been hit. Crickets were singin’ in the grass and the frogs were peepin’
in the back field. I thought I could hear somethin’ else out there in the dark; a quiet shufflin’, like somebody was out there playin’ creep
mouse. I thought it was my imagination and ignored it. Bein’ out at night scares me because coyotes come down from the mountains to bother the
chickens. I would’ve done the trash earlier when it was still light but I had a lot of homework. I put the trash bag into the rusted oil drum that
we use for burnin’ and set it on fire. I stood there watchin’ the fire and thinkin’ about how much Daddy had changed over the past year or
It started when Momma got sick and died. He started to drink but didn’t hit me. He just sat there and cried. Then, Daddy lost his job. He said
it was because the Commie in the white house passed a law and the mine got shut down. He got real mean after that. I miss how he’d sit me on his
knee and sing Big Bad John. It’s his favorite song. He told me once that I’m named after the guy in the song that saved all those miners. I
don’t know how long I stood there lookin’ at the fire but the air was cooler and the trash bag was almost ashes. I could swear I heard that sound
again, only it was closer. I hurried back to the house. I still had to take a shower and get ready for bed. The next day was a weekend but I still
had to go to bed early. Daddy was sleepin’ in his chair when I got in. I kissed him on his forehead and went to take my shower.
27-4-2015 by Skid Mark because: (no reason given)
edit on 27-4-2015 by Skid Mark because: (no reason given)