Saturday, October 21, 2006

Parents Who Spank - humorous fiction by Matt

Copyright Matt Anglen et. al. 1990-2006. Please do not repost without permission.


I thought it would be the pits riding back with Beth, having to put up with her smug self-satisfaction - but I wasn’t going to let on that I knew. Who told me? No one. I could just tell by the way Jason avoided the question when I asked him where he was last Friday night. That, plus Beth ditching us on our Girls’ Night Out, made it all too clear. Way too much to be a coincidence. Now, in a couple of days, Jason will drop me and then, when an indecently short time has passed, he’ll show up with Beth. But I will not let on.

I thought it was more than I should have to put up with, though, to have to ride back from the church with her after the Youth Retreat. Not a fun time for me anyway, since I figured it out Saturday at lunch and had been miserable ever since, so this just put the icing on the cake. Then I saw her folks and remembered - oh yeah! - Beth has Parents Who Spank.

Now I had to be careful, because I absolutely could not get caught. If I did, Beth would be right in whatever she did to me, because she confided once that her mom’s hairbrush is the best she can hope for and everybody says that’s just brutal. But she told me that when she hears her father say “let’s lift that hem, young lady,” she knows she’ll be eating her meals standing up for days to come.

Beth was in very high spirits, a pretty sharp contrast to me, but then I cheered up considerably. I tried to sound casual even as I chose my words so carefully. Beth’s parents are so strict, they don’t let her date - at all - and in some weird flash of insight I knew exactly what she had told them.

“We had so much fun Friday night,” I started, “Beth, it is so too bad you couldn’t be there.” The frozen look on Beth’s face told me I’d gotten it on the first try. And here I was, sounding as innocent as a new-born lamb. Beth’s mom turned her head so fast I thought it’d snap her scrawny neck. Mother and daughter had matching tight-lipped expressions.

Ol’ Mom there was the first to recover. She didn’t let on a bit - if I hadn’t been doing it on purpose, I’d have never known anything was up.

“So, Stephanie,” she started, trying to be casual, “what did you get up to that you had so much fun?”

What a perfect opening! I thought of making up something outrageous and implying that we did this stuff with Beth when she was with us. Then I had a better thought. See, Beth had known our plans and like I said, I absolutely didn’t want to say anything that didn’t check out. But this would take that cute little ass she likes to prance around and turn it the color of a Japanese sunrise!

“Well, Mrs. Johnson, we went to Jerry’s Pizza - me and Allison and Jennifer,” I told her. This part is what Beth would have said we were doing, herself included.

“Allison, Jennifer, and I,” Beth’s mom corrected automatically. I think she’s always wanted to be one of those ultra-anal teachers, you know? But as long as she was going to paddle Beth’s bottom good and sore for me, she could say anything she wanted to.

“But Jerry’s was dead, so we went to Alcatraz,” I continued. I knew, just knew, Beth would have said she was with us at Jerry’s but she wouldn’t have known about our change in plans. No way out of this one. I had to fight from looking at Beth - I tried to make out her expression in the window. I was not just imagining that it was pretty grim.

“Oh, you did?” Mrs. Johnson asked, in that way parents do when they don’t want an answer. Her dad was real quiet, watching the road a lot more carefully than anyone would need to. I don’t know what he thought he might see out there.

“Yeah, it was great. You know Sean? His brother has a band.” True, true, all true. I had a pretty good idea that the adults at church didn’t think too highly of bands with names like Barren Tomb.

Now my brain was really cooking and I had to just stop before I went overboard and gave myself away. I wanted to say we got in late, because I know Beth has a 10:30 curfew and they are really strict about it but I got lucky and caught myself. Of course she was in by her curfew! I came so close to maybe blowing it! Now, now I had it, the master stroke. Okay, little Bethy, get ready for the hairbrush and papa’s strap! I’ll have you hotter than the Los Alamos fire and a nuclear lab meltdown put together!

“But we had to get home early, Allison had a swim meet, so we had to leave at nine,” I complained. Outside, I was disappointed. Inside, I was watching Mr. Johnson’s ears get red as he rolled his shoulders. Beth wasn’t actually crying, not yet, but was she ever close! She must’ve waltzed in at 10:30 on the dot! Oh, little missy, you can have that two-timing Jason but will you ever pay!

Everyone else was real quiet as we turned into our subdivision. Beth’s seat must’ve been feeling a little itchy, because she was squirming around some. Personally, my whole weekend had been salvaged from the smoldering wreck of only a few minutes earlier. As they stopped at my house I thanked them, maybe gushing a little too much, and promised Beth to see her at school in the morning. Then, grabbing my stuff, I rushed to ditch it in my room.

Their house is only two blocks away and if I cut through the back I can get there almost before they do. It was hot here today and maybe they’ve even left a window opened. In any case, I’ll be happy to report back!

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