Monday, February 20, 2017

Serial Fiction: Mistake 24

Chapter Six

Someone To Watch Over Me

It’s not that I don’t love my siblings. Of course I do. I can’t help it. Maybe it’s just because they are familiar. I’ve known them for thirty-nine years. I wish them wonderful full lives and that all of their dreams come true. Those which don’t involve me. I grinned.
I just plain don’t like them. Sometimes I hate them. But then I stop to think, they can’t help being so arrogant, greedy and narcisstic. Those are their personalities. The nature/nurture thing. Wherein my personality was formed by nature, by my biological parents, whom I now know were not Nathan and Chloe Payne. My parents were warm, sweet, brave people. Like me. At least I hope that’s how others see me.
Tammy and Perry’s biological father, Dr. Nathan Payne, was a sociopath puppeteer. And I can’t pass judgment on their mothers, as I didn’t know either well.
My stomach knotted. “Oh my God, Mike! We left him in the grave he was digging!”
Tammy said, “Eww! Stop it Oh-Donna! Why’d you have to bring that up?”
Not only didn’t I attend a memorial service for Momma, I just left my poor biological father’s mortal body to be eaten by the worms, maggots and alligators. I’m going to Hell for this. Straight to Hell. But not if it’s not my fault. I’m retarded like they say. No I’m not! “Wait a minute. Perry, did you call the cops about Mike?”
“I notified the chief.”
“Chief? Fire chief? Indian chief? Chief executive officer? Wait. You mean the chief of security at the hotel! Damn you Perry! I thought you called from the island. Does Mister Rollins even know you didn’t notify the proper authorities?”
“Not my problem.” he snickered.
Well, Perry is a judge, so he should know the law, or should I say loopholes, in these delicate situations. If I do notify the authorities now, long distance, that could bring up some weird questions and maybe we’d get in trouble. I suffered a stabbing sensation as though an ice pick had been inserted at the base of my skull. And someone was applying pressure to it.
I hurried to my kitchen and opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator. I extracted a bottle of coated aspirin and shook two in my hand then replaced the cap and bottle. Grabbing a diet soda from the fridge, I washed them down with caffeine. That’s supposed to accelerate the healing powers. I needed peace and to lie down. And some music to pull me back into my happily ever after. My debonair dream weaver, Ashley, would know what to do. He’d take care of everything. I headed back down the hall.
Before I started up the oak stairs, Perry asked, “Oh Donna, how would you like me to make you a nice sheppard’s pie for dinner tomorrow? With Yorkshire pudding and my famous tossed salad?”
Yum...Perry was a delicious cook. And darn it, I’m tired of eating meat, eggs and cheese on this stupid diet. Maybe if I go off it for a few days, it will shock my body back into losing when I resume.
I smelled orange oil. It emanated from the fresh dusting cloth Tammy was busying herself with along my oak banister. She was working the crannies on the balustrades. That was something my sister and I did have in common. We were compulsive cleaners. Not that I felt up to cleaning lately. I had been experiencing weakness since my Rip Van Winkle incident.
“Oh all right. You guys can stay with me, but only temporarily. I’ll give you both a week. And I reserve the right to throw you out at any time.”
Tammy said, “And I reserve the right to leave at any time.”
“Good.” I said.
“Good.” Tammy had to get the last word in.
Retrieving his black judge’s robe from the living room sofa, Perry said, “I’ve got to go and pick up some things and see about getting a renter or buyer for my house. I’ll be back later tonight. I’ll bring groceries. Oh-Donna, give me your credit card so I can—”
I glared at him. So help me, if he finished that sentence...
He scowled with a snort and scrammed.
Twirling the rainbow feather duster along the baseboards in the foyer, Tammy sneezed.
“God bless you.” I meant it.
Norma Jean whined at the kitchen door. I opened it and let her onto the deck. I slammed it before a wasp flew in. Norma Jean sprang onto the deck and snapped at it. The second try trapped the insect between her jaws. She chewed and swallowed, then galloped down the stairs to the small yard to daintily do her business.
I let her back in, locked up and went up to my bedroom to take a nap. I slept all the way through until dawn. No dreams. Darn it.


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