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Bad Papa (standard:horror, 1200 words)
Author: hvysmkerAdded: Dec 21 2003Views/Reads: 3631/2352Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A little girl helps support her family during WWII
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“I got the night shift, just like Mama.”  He smirked, “While you're
running around town.” 

I had no ready answer to that.  Nobody could find out what I was doing
nights. 

Maybe someday I could get enough ahead for one of those new-fangled 
electric ones.  Heaven knew there were enough drunks in this town.  Of 
course I had to leave the servicemen alone.  They were fighting for our 
freedom from the evil Nazis.  But draft dodgers, and Papa, were fair 
game. 

Back in the living room, I noticed that Mama had brought home a
newspaper.  It had fallen from her hands as she slept.  I couldn't read 
too well and picked it up to practice.  The front page was all about 
the police trying to catch a killer, ha, ha, they were rounding up a 
whole bunch of grown men, never thinking to look for little girls. 

I finished making supper for us and washed the dishes, running a mop
around the kitchen.  By that time it was about nine p.m.  Mama was 
awake and it was time for me to get a few hours of sleep.  I went to 
bed. 

When I woke, mama had gone to work. 

“Now Peter, you make sure Ruth has her bottle before you go to bed.  I
changed her already but you might have to later.  Take care of both 
your sisters and I'll be back in a few hours.” 

“Yeah right, Gottcha.”  He was listening to Amos and Andy.  He probably
hadn't heard a word I said, but I had to go. 

********** 

When I returned about four in the morning I could see all the lights on
in the little house.  The radio was blaring, with Frank Sinatra singing 
‘There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight'. 

“There sure as heck will be,” I told myself as I stormed in the front
door, “when I get my hands on that Peter.” 

I stopped in the doorway.  An Army cap was lying on the table inside the
door. 

“What the heck's going on here?”  I called, as I stalked into the living
room. 

There was my Papa sitting, proud as you please, on the sofa.  The other
kids around him, playing with some new toys. 

“Why hello young lady, where have you been?”  He asked, with a crap
eating grin.  “You shouldn't be out at night like that.”  The dirty 
bum. 

“What are you doing back here?”  I yelled over Frank's singing.  “Go
back where you came from.” 

When he stood up, I could see how drunk he was and slipped past him,
going to my room. 

I lay on my bed, my mind spinning like a dervish, as the talking slowed
down and finally stopped.  Taking a peek out the door, I could see him 
sleeping on the sofa, bottles spread around him.  The bum had a lot of 
nerve coming back here.  I got out my gun. 

******** 

Dragging the body out to the garage, I walked back down town to see
Sammy.  It took quite a bit of my cash, but he took it away.  Going 
back in the house, I woke Peter and Janie and told them in no uncertain 
terms to keep their mouths shut.  I don't think Mama ever found out. 


   


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