29-03-2019, 05:58 PM
Whatever Gets You through the Night Pt. 02
"Oh, tell me, why was it always you
who, through the changes,
you who always sang and played
while the green vespers rang
in the heart of the hillside.
It's a sad song that we always seem
to be singing to each other. You and me,
sweet and slightly out of key.
Like the sound of a running-down calliope."
-Warren Zevon, "Tule's Blues"
Helen Parker made her way through the snow along the side of the road. A few houses down, illuminated in the streetlights behind her, Wade Parker stomped behind and shouted all the things he was going to do to her if she didn't get her bitch ass right back here. She was eleven years old and wasn't falling for it; she already knew that as drunk and pissed off as he was, he'd do most of those things anyway.
She couldn't run from him. Not safely. The past couple days of rain mixed with snowflakes led to the first real snowfall of the winter that day. Now, after dark, the rain revealed its true purpose: to freeze beneath four inches of snow and turn to ice. Plows wouldn't be out until the evening, and it would be a while before there was hard-pack along the sides of the road to walk on less treacherously.
Until then, no step could be trusted and trying to run would virtually guarantee a slip and fall, so their regular chase was happening at a brisk walking speed, but the stakes if she were caught would be the same. He'd take it away and she'd never get it back. At least she'd had her shoes on when she ran out the door this time. She hadn't been able to grab a coat on the way out, but he had.
In the past, she would have given him what he wanted right away and saved herself a beating, but this time, it was hers, and she stole it fair and square.
Most of the houses on their street had signs in the windows stating that they had either real or fake security systems installed. Some advised that the occupants were protected by Smith & Wesson or that they shoot every third trespasser and the second one just left. Practically every car and truck on the street had a bumper sticker advising that the driver was armed or that nothing in the vehicle was worth the reader's life, and most of them could have been addressed specifically to Wade John Wayne Parker.
Wade took pride in it. He wasn't the sort of person who commanded respect, so fear would do for him. None of the neighbors would interfere with his "disciplining his daughter" if he caught her. Although, he knew that if she reached either of the two neighboring houses she was running to and someone was home, both she and it would be out of his clutches.
A new family had moved in a few blocks down, where some of the nicer houses were. Neighbors didn't tend to talk openly if Wade were around, but his wife still made some effort to be sociable, so it was through her that word got back to him that the new people had a very expensive sound system installed. No signs on the lawn or stickers on the cars was a practical invitation to Wade, along with the fact that the house had an upstairs living room with a balcony and a sliding glass door; the kind people almost never thought to lock and were easy enough to jimmy if they didn't brace it with a piece of wood; which almost no one would think to do on a door to an enclosed balcony in what was, until you heard about the family a few blocks over, considered a good neighborhood. The balcony railings being low enough that an 11-year-old girl could be hoisted up to them; who could then slip in-between, open that sliding glass door, sneak through the living room and down the stairs to the front door, then unlock it to let him in meant that, once again, it was Take Your Daughter to Work Night at the Parker House.
As Helen made her way through the house to unlock the door, she spied the iPad charging on a table by the front door. Wade didn't seem to notice it or much else until they found the stereo and he ordered Helen to unhook it.
Helen pointed out that she was eleven and didn't know anything about stereo equipment. Wade insisted that she'd been able to program the clock on the microwave, so this should be no problem. Helen pointed out that reading the microwave manual wasn't the same as knowing how to unhook an expensive stereo system that probably had to be installed by professionals and he should have brought along one of his friends who knew stereos. Wade started yelling and demanding to know what good Helen was. Helen was starting to point out that they were on a burglary and shouldn't yell when the bedroom door opened, and the new homeowner emerged with a shotgun.
Helen ran out the front door, grabbing the iPod and cord as she went. She didn't see if Wade got out or not, but she wasn't about to go back for him. At her age, not only did she know it would get her arrested, but she'd already learned that Wade would never come back for her. She made her way to Julie's house, knocked on her window until Julie woke up and let her in, and slept there for the night. Colonel Tom and Vanessa Andrews, Julie's parents, knew about Helen's home life; and between that knowledge and their daughter's unusual sleeping habits, were by then accustomed to things like learning the next morning that Helen had needed a place to hide from her family and they had a surprise fourth at the breakfast table, so they were past questioning these things and didn't ask Helen for details.
She'd gone to college from there that morning, when the snow started falling. Thinking about things throughout the day, she hadn't heard the shotgun go off, so being rid of Wade was too much to hope for. If he'd been picked up, she might have a day or two to find a manual online and get to know her new acquisition. By then, he'd have forgotten about it and all she'd have to do is prevent him from discovering it in the future and it was all hers!
"Oh, tell me, why was it always you
who, through the changes,
you who always sang and played
while the green vespers rang
in the heart of the hillside.
It's a sad song that we always seem
to be singing to each other. You and me,
sweet and slightly out of key.
Like the sound of a running-down calliope."
-Warren Zevon, "Tule's Blues"
Helen Parker made her way through the snow along the side of the road. A few houses down, illuminated in the streetlights behind her, Wade Parker stomped behind and shouted all the things he was going to do to her if she didn't get her bitch ass right back here. She was eleven years old and wasn't falling for it; she already knew that as drunk and pissed off as he was, he'd do most of those things anyway.
She couldn't run from him. Not safely. The past couple days of rain mixed with snowflakes led to the first real snowfall of the winter that day. Now, after dark, the rain revealed its true purpose: to freeze beneath four inches of snow and turn to ice. Plows wouldn't be out until the evening, and it would be a while before there was hard-pack along the sides of the road to walk on less treacherously.
Until then, no step could be trusted and trying to run would virtually guarantee a slip and fall, so their regular chase was happening at a brisk walking speed, but the stakes if she were caught would be the same. He'd take it away and she'd never get it back. At least she'd had her shoes on when she ran out the door this time. She hadn't been able to grab a coat on the way out, but he had.
In the past, she would have given him what he wanted right away and saved herself a beating, but this time, it was hers, and she stole it fair and square.
Most of the houses on their street had signs in the windows stating that they had either real or fake security systems installed. Some advised that the occupants were protected by Smith & Wesson or that they shoot every third trespasser and the second one just left. Practically every car and truck on the street had a bumper sticker advising that the driver was armed or that nothing in the vehicle was worth the reader's life, and most of them could have been addressed specifically to Wade John Wayne Parker.
Wade took pride in it. He wasn't the sort of person who commanded respect, so fear would do for him. None of the neighbors would interfere with his "disciplining his daughter" if he caught her. Although, he knew that if she reached either of the two neighboring houses she was running to and someone was home, both she and it would be out of his clutches.
A new family had moved in a few blocks down, where some of the nicer houses were. Neighbors didn't tend to talk openly if Wade were around, but his wife still made some effort to be sociable, so it was through her that word got back to him that the new people had a very expensive sound system installed. No signs on the lawn or stickers on the cars was a practical invitation to Wade, along with the fact that the house had an upstairs living room with a balcony and a sliding glass door; the kind people almost never thought to lock and were easy enough to jimmy if they didn't brace it with a piece of wood; which almost no one would think to do on a door to an enclosed balcony in what was, until you heard about the family a few blocks over, considered a good neighborhood. The balcony railings being low enough that an 11-year-old girl could be hoisted up to them; who could then slip in-between, open that sliding glass door, sneak through the living room and down the stairs to the front door, then unlock it to let him in meant that, once again, it was Take Your Daughter to Work Night at the Parker House.
As Helen made her way through the house to unlock the door, she spied the iPad charging on a table by the front door. Wade didn't seem to notice it or much else until they found the stereo and he ordered Helen to unhook it.
Helen pointed out that she was eleven and didn't know anything about stereo equipment. Wade insisted that she'd been able to program the clock on the microwave, so this should be no problem. Helen pointed out that reading the microwave manual wasn't the same as knowing how to unhook an expensive stereo system that probably had to be installed by professionals and he should have brought along one of his friends who knew stereos. Wade started yelling and demanding to know what good Helen was. Helen was starting to point out that they were on a burglary and shouldn't yell when the bedroom door opened, and the new homeowner emerged with a shotgun.
Helen ran out the front door, grabbing the iPod and cord as she went. She didn't see if Wade got out or not, but she wasn't about to go back for him. At her age, not only did she know it would get her arrested, but she'd already learned that Wade would never come back for her. She made her way to Julie's house, knocked on her window until Julie woke up and let her in, and slept there for the night. Colonel Tom and Vanessa Andrews, Julie's parents, knew about Helen's home life; and between that knowledge and their daughter's unusual sleeping habits, were by then accustomed to things like learning the next morning that Helen had needed a place to hide from her family and they had a surprise fourth at the breakfast table, so they were past questioning these things and didn't ask Helen for details.
She'd gone to college from there that morning, when the snow started falling. Thinking about things throughout the day, she hadn't heard the shotgun go off, so being rid of Wade was too much to hope for. If he'd been picked up, she might have a day or two to find a manual online and get to know her new acquisition. By then, he'd have forgotten about it and all she'd have to do is prevent him from discovering it in the future and it was all hers!
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