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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
FEVERED FALL
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Chapter Ten
Gazing down the street, she remembered how the evening had begun.
She had been eating dinner. They�d been at home; herself, her little sister,
her mom, and her dad.
Dad, of course, was having dinner not at the dinner table, but at the
T.V. tray. It was set up in front of his lounge chair, the big overstuffed
number that they sold late at night on T.V. with half-hour infomercials.
Dad�s lounge chair was close enough to the table so he could reach out and
swat either child, if the child proved unruly. At the same time his chair
was oriented toward the altar set up at the end of the room. On this altar
were its two essential components: a television, and a T.V. Guide.
She had tried eating quietly. (And, of course, quickly.) She�d even
tried talking to her mother a little. Naturally, this hadn�t produced much,
in the way of family cheer and harmony. That�s because somewhere around
age 12 her mother had realized that her daughter was, in fact, the prettier
of them. This had created a residual jealousy in her mother; one her
mother was unconscious of, but acted upon on a daily basis.
As for her father, he was his usual disgruntled self. His job required
him to be nice to people. By the time he got home, he was sick of being a
sycophant, and ready to explode, to vindicate his need for male dominance.
It was usually herself, the older daughter, who provided this relief
(albeit, not voluntarily).
�Oh, no, Mrs. Thompson! I�m not the head of the household. I�m the
maid!� the gay maid said to the visitor at the door. His voice, sissified
and high, came from the television. It was a standard line on the show,
Fuller House. It always got a laugh.
�Ho! Ho! Ho! Goddam faggot!� Her dad laughed from his lounge chair.
Then he glanced at his daughter. He examined her mode of eating, through
squinting, jealous eyes, and determined that she was eating quickly, to
escape from the dinner table. �I�m sick of your little attitude, over
there,� he warned her. �You�d better straighten up or else!�
�I�m sorry, dad,� she answered.
�I mean it!� he shouted. His anger, she realized, now emanated from
the fact that she had called him �dad,� instead of �daddy.� It was an
uncomfortable reminder to him that she was getting older.
�Parents! Is your child is safe? Tonight at Ten: �The Boy Next Door,
Sex Offender!��
�Goddam perverts!� Her father chimed, from his lounge chair. He
was staring at the T.V. again. He scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes
and put it in his mouth.
�Oh, please! I don�t want to have to watch this,� she remembered
saying. If she was doomed to sit at the dinner table, and eat slowly, the
least they ought to offer her was some choice in what the family watched
on T.V., she thought.
�Shuttup, I said!� she remembered her father yelling.
�Daddy, I want to watch--� her little sister had asked.
�Shuttup! Both of you!� her father hollared. �Children are to be
seen, and not heard!� She remembered how her father had vented himself
without first troubling to swallow his mashed potatoes. �In fact,� he
continued, still without the benefit of swallowing, �Given all the goddam
perverts around, children are to be neither seen nor heard! Eat your
goddam dinner! Both of you!�
�Hello, I�m Molly Snoop,� a voice, laced with concern, announced
from the T.V. �Tonight on KBAR, we re-air a special report we first did
last fall. There are thousands of young men in American neighborhoods
who are not the innocents they seem. Many of them have been convicted of
sexual offenses and one of them could be living near you. Is your child
safe? Tonight, how parents can take action to ensure--�
There was a knock at the door.
�I�ll get it!� She remembered yelling. Her little sister, equally eager
for a break from Dad�s Dominion, yelled the same thing. She ran from the
room. Her little sister followed, but was slower.
�Goddam it!� her father yelled. He tried to reach out and grab her,
but she was too quick. Unfortunately, her little sister was slower. She
remembered her dad grabbing her sister, and, given the force with which
he grabbed her, her sister immediately began crying.
At the door, she felt her pulse quicken. It was him. Tod. Her
boyfriend.
�It�s happening,� he whispered to her. She remembered how the
porch light had lit up his blonde hair.
�Really?� she remembered asking.
�Yes,� he said. They embraced, quickly. Then she turned and led him
into her house. She ought to, she thought, try at least to say goodbye.
She went into the dining room. The T.V. was still blaring from the
far wall. Her boyfriend was with her.
�Goddam it, I told you I want YOU to answer the door, not them!� her
dad was yelling at her mother. The instant he saw her boyfriend, he
redirected his fire: �What? I thought I told you I never wanted to see you
again!� he shouted at her boyfriend.
�She�s leaving,� she remembered her boyfriend saying. He had said it
quietly. They were both trying to avoid antagonizing her father.
�What?� he�d shouted.
�She�s leaving,� Tod said again, still quiet, still controlled, not
wanting to upset the order of the family dinner.
�GodDAMMIT!� she remembered her dad yelling. He leaped up. He paid
no mind to the fact that the T.V. tray was positioned over his lap. His
tray, his plate, and his food tumbled to the floor. He stepped into his
mashed potatoes as he approached her boyfriend.
Tod was on the skinny side. Handsome, but skinny. He had long hair,
which her father, with his crewcut, hated. Actually her father had
himself had long hair when he was a teenager, but since joining the
Dockworker�s Union he�d shaved it to a (balding) crewcut. She remembered
her father grabbing Tod by his hair. He spun Tod around. He slammed Tod
into the wall. Fortunately Tod hit the wall with his forehead, his head
leaning forward, and didn�t break his nose. When her father pulled Tod
back to shove him into the wall again, Tod yanked out of his vest the prize
he�d gotten from the liberated armory.
It was a gun. A pistol. He pointed it at her father but didn�t have
time to just threaten the man with it. He pulled the trigger, just before
her father, still holding Tod by the hair, slammed him into the wall again.
It wasn�t a laser pistol, but the old-fashioned kind, almost a
museum piece. It shot bullets. Tod pulled its trigger three times in
succession.
She remembered not remembering, until a few seconds later, when
the noise and powder-smell of the smoke had subsided. She gaped down at
her father, lying on their rug in a pool of his own blood. Her little sister
screamed, endlessly, as did her mother.
Tod didn�t scream. He simply stared.
She remembered him apologizing to her afterward: �I�m sorry, Lees
(short for Lisa). I didn�t mean to shoot your pop.�
�It�s okay,� she remembered saying to him.
She sat and stared down the street. She saw an overturned car,
burning. She saw smashed-in storefronts. The night was late now. She
had her little sister beside her, huddling under a small jacket. The moon
stared down at them; a cold beacon in the night sky.
�Lees, I wanna go home!� her sister said to her in a nervous, high-
pitched voice. She turned and looked down at her sister.
�We can�t,� she said. She paused. She thought for a moment. Was it
still there? No, she didn�t think it was. Rioters had moved in shortly
after she had left home with Tod, her little sister trailing along behind
them, her mother, in shock, screaming over her father�s dead body, inside
their house.
Home was probably a charred ruin by now, given what the looters had
done to the neighborhoods she�d seen since then. Perhaps that was best.
With luck, her mother would have escaped. Her father, dead inside the
house, would have been cremated by the flames.
A car came rolling up the street. It stopped. She looked at it. It
wasn�t too bad of a car, she thought, except for the fact that the driver�s
side window had been smashed, and an alarm was shrieking from under the
car�s hood.
Tod leaned out of the driver�s side window.
�Hey, I got a car! No payments, either!� Tod grinned to her.
�Oh, I wanna drive it!� her little sister said.
�You can sit on my lap,� she told her sister.
�Get in!� Tod said. �It�s got a quarter tank of gas. If we can find a
service station that�s open, we can drive forever!�
She got into the front seat beside Tod. Her little sister perched on
her lap.
�I wanna go to Disneyland!� her little sister said.
�Cool,� Tod replied. He looked at her. �You wanna go to Disneyland
too?�
�Okay,� she said, softly.
30
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-END OF story EMISSION