I Lied

I guess today has been rather productive after all. So here is the ninth part. I was going to see about resolving it in 13 parts. I'll have to see. Well, at any rate I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Cos I'm really getting quite fond of the old thing.

****Part IX*****

Her father eased out of the recliner and thought, “I must have really been tired.” He padded upstairs in his stocking feet and got ready for the day. Pulling on his standard uniform of jeans and a padded flannel, he started thinking about Fiona. Then he shook his head quickly. She was 16 and bound to be getting into some sort of trouble. That’s all kids did nowadays; it was why he put her in private school. Yes, it was expensive, but hell, it was worth it! From somewhere, a voice told him he needed to ease up on her. He shook his head quickly again. Out loud he said, “A child needs a firm hand.” With that he stomped to her bedroom and pounded on Fiona’s door. “Come out here now!”

She stretched and yawned. Then she glanced at her alarm. “Dad, it’s not even 5:30 yet…”, she tried to put a wheedling tone into her voice. “Unlock that door this instant young lady!!! If you don’t by the time I count to three…” What was she, three years old now? “I will knock this door down. 1….2….” She opened the door a crack. “Dad, can I please put on my robe?” He glared at her…his eyes looked like they were on fire. He started shaking and in a quivery voice raged “Where is your nightgown young lady?” He threw open the door and it slammed into the wall just as she was tightening her robe. She turned around, smiled, kissed his cheek and went downstairs to start breakfast. He just stood there, his mouth gaping open, staring. Then he turned on his heel and stormed down the stairs.

Just as he hit the dining room, she gave him his morning paper and not two seconds later, she set down his coffee just the way he liked it (two creams, one sugar) and a plate of French toast. Shortly afterwards she put down a platter of bacon. Something had to be wrong here, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Oh. She never showed him her left side. “Fiona, get your bones in here!” She popped out of the kitchen…just her face and asked, “Yes Dad? Is the French toast undercooked again? I’ll fix it right away!” “Get out here. All of you. NOW!” With that he slammed the table and the dishes and the silverware jumped. Fiona eased her way out of the kitchen. Meekly she faced him. “I want to see your left side. With her left hand, she nervously pushed up her hair so her neck showed. Quietly she uttered the prayer many teenage girls have said, “Please don’t let him see, please don’t let him see, please don’t let him see…”. “Girl, what’s your problem?” He handled her roughly and peered at her neck. “Nuthin’ there to see. Get back to bed! I’ll clean up.” Maybe he needed glasses after all. She sure as heck was acting like there was something to hide. He grabbed the lunch she prepared him and left to go to work.

Fiona did go back to her bedroom and fell in a sodden heap on her bed. Tears were running down her face. She missed her mother. She missed Kristoff. And for all she knew there was a gaping wound in her heart like there had to be on her neck. But her dad, old fool that he was, didn’t see it. She walked over to her closed door and hung up her robe. In the future she must remember to always hang it up here…especially if her dad came storming in again. She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to that and to grab her so hard. With that thought, she cried again and jumped onto her bed. Burying her head beneath her pillows, Fiona had the most honest cry that she had had in ages. It felt so good when she came up for air. She started getting ready for the day and smiled to herself. She wondered if she had that glow around her.
She stepped down the stairs, almost gleefully. She hadn’t been this excited about going to school since the day before she first experienced the pain of homework. Grabbing Kristoff’s coat, she put it on. She took a deep breath in celebration of her new life and smiled. Maybe it would be weird, but gosh it was worth it!

***

“Do you have an excuse for yesterday young lady?” the school secretary sniffed at Fiona. “Why, well, ummmm….no. No, I don’t!” The secretary glowered at her over her half-glasses. These students thought they could get away with anything. Why in her day…the young lass had some guff, she was looking at her as if she knew precisely what she was thinking (which of course Fiona did). She gave her a note with the much hated “02” code which mean unexcused. Only two of these each semester and you could bet on spending your days at home. Some of the staff, Miss Hornsby included, felt this was much too lenient a policy. Rumor had it though the principal Ms. Hincklestein would be stepping down soon. Then perhaps someone who could show a little more authority could step in…Principal Hornsby had a really nice ring to it. With that thought, she gave Fiona a withering glance and said, “Go to your homeroom child.”

As she walked out of the office, Fiona stuck out her tongue. Miss Hornsby…what a dumb old broad. She pulled open the door to her homeroom. Why did they even make up homeroom? She had a pass that signified her absence wasn’t excused; why did she have to admit that to seven different teachers as well as the stupid secretary? She gave the note to her Mr. Wrekkly and he jotted it down in his book and gave her back the note. She sat down in her usual seat and buried her head in her arms. Her friend Tori tapped her arm. “Hey, that is one far out coat!” Fiona looked up at Tori and grinned, “Yup, it’s my boyfriend’s. Pretty snazzy, eh?” “Boyfriend?!?!” Tori looked at her incredulously. “You never told me you had a boyfriend!”

Fiona giggled. “Well, uh…I have a boyfriend. His name’s Kristoff. He’s really cute.” Tori rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but we all know your taste in guys…” and made a thumbs down gesture. Finally after going through the pledge, the school song, and a prayer, it was time to go the first class. Today that first class was Arts. Tori shared this class with her. “So when did you meet him…and how?” As much as the two joked around, they really didn’t know many guys. There were an occasional few who drifted through the halls of the school; it was only made a co-ed school the year before. Fiona stopped in the middle of the hallway and watched as Tori walked ahead of her. Then Tori stopped and came back. “Ok. There must be something to him if you make a dead stop in the middle of the hallway.” She watched her friend slowly nod and heard her sigh. “I met him by the river two days ago,” she offered nonchalantly. Tori’s eyes bugged. “By the river? Oh my gosh!”

Nobody knew exactly what it was by the river that made parents and teachers say stay away. The problem was it had been like this for a long time. Parents always forbade their children not to go down by the river, but every so often someone got up the courage to go down there. Fiona was one of them. “Did-did-did you see anything unusual?” Tori sputtered out. Fiona laughed as she opened the door to her arts class and pushed Tori in, her mouth still wide open. “I met a very nice guy by the name of Kristoff. Nothing unusual in that is there?”