MENACING MRS. MITCHELL
A Tickling Tale By Jack Hays
When my parents split up the summer before I started the 6th grade, I thought my life would really fall apart. I'd have to leave school, move to another part of the country, and start all over again making friends and getting settled. Instead, it made it possible for me to have the most exciting times of my life.
After the big split, my mom thought she needed some time to sort things out, so she had me arrange to spend a couple of weeks with my buddy Kenny Mitchell. Kenny's folks had also divorced, and now he lived with his mother on their place in the country. Kenny was a good guy. He was always cool, more knowledgeable than I was, and he had a way of being in control of things. He especially knew how to control his mother. He taught me a lot that summer.
Kenny's mother had just turned 36 when I came to stay with them. She was a tall woman with a very pretty face. Her brown hair had just a few gray hairs. Her figure was very shapely, with a very impressive bustline. She had, however, put on an extra pound or two so that her clothes tended to always look a bit too tight. In particular, the buttons on her blouses were always challenged to keep her breasts confined. I had gotten more than one glimpse of her getting dressed, and it was very exciting to see a grown woman in her bra and girdle. She pretty much gave us the run of the place, except for an old steamer trunk kept locked in the attic, and a large cedar chest in her bedroom which we were quite certain held awesome secrets.
Since Kenny had grown up in the country, he had learned to do all sorts of things, one of which was the fine art of using a lasso. Kenny and I had been having fun playing at being cowboys, roping tree stumps, the dog, the cat, and at times each other. The real fun started one day when we were playing in the woods just behind his house, when his mom decided it was time for us to do some chores. She called for us, but we decided to make her wait for a while. When she came into the woods looking for us, we decided to pounce.
Two lassoes fell over her and tightened before she quite new what was happening. While she was still off balance, we pulled her back against a stout oak tree and took a couple of turns around its trunk. She was laughing at how we surprised her and struggling just a little as we tied off the ends of the rope. She really wasn't too concerned, as we had played around like this before. She had always been able to escape easily, as she was never truly secured. This time, though, we grabbed her hands and tied them tightly behind the tree trunk, pulling back her arms so that her chest was prominently thrust forward.
At this point, she finally began to realize just how helpless she really was. I think she had always felt that two twelve-year-olds couldn't tie her in such a fashion that she couldn't escape if she put her mind to it. Now, however, she was starting to have second thoughts, as her subtle movements showed.
Kenny called me aside and whispered, "Look, this is our big chance to see what's really in that ol' trunk. I know where she has the keys. You better stay here and keep an eye on Mom, okay?"
"All right, I'll hang out here," I agreed. "Why don't you search the chest in her bedroom while you're at it?"
"Hey, you're right. She never lets us get in there. Just make sure the ropes stay tight."
"Don't worry," I said. "She's not goin' anywhere."
Kenny took off at a run. He'd be back at the house in five minutes and could search all he wanted.
Meanwhile, it was up to me to keep an eye on Mrs. Mitchell. I walked back to where she was tied to the tree, being as quiet as I could. I approached her from behind so she couldn't see me. She was really working to get her hands loose. I could see that she was having some luck. In fact, if I hadn't come back, she might have made it. Before she could make the great escape, however, I reached out grabbed the two rope ends and pulled them tight.
"Oh! God, Bob, you scared me! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that. And now you pulled that rope tight again. Now come on and untie me now." Mrs. Mitchell was starting to get frustrated.
"Oh, no, it's not time for you to get loose yet. You're our prisoner, and you're gone stay that way 'til we're ready.
"Now, look, Bob," she said as she began to struggle again, using her still-free legs for leverage.
"Oh, no you don't! I can see we're gone have to do a better job. Let's take care of those legs," I said, picking up another rope from our "lasso stash".