BLANK SPOTS II

Photo Credit: Wonder Bread


At dinner Carole sat low in her seat, hoping no one noticed her. There were twelve people at the big table. The two skinny dogs with curling tails and tucked under bottoms prowled around the edges. They showed Carole their teeth when she looked at them. Carole’s chair was furthest from the back door, and her sweaty thighs stuck to the red plastic seat. The kitchen was hot with cooking. If a desert breeze came through the torn screen door, it didn’t get very far in that hot room. Hungry, Carole drank every drop of her milk and ate all her carrots as fast as she could chew. She ate her potato skin and all, and then she furtively licked the butter off her slice of Wonderbread. Finished with everything the voices allowed, pork chop and soggy bread remained on her chipped pink plate, untouched. The sight of that food filled Carole with dread. It had been altered, changed. A strange wavering light seemed to emanate from the meat and bread, like heat waves off the road. The voices said that kind of food was forbidden, but Mrs. Thatcher had said she had to eat it, and Carole still felt hungry. At the thought of disobedience, a haze dropped over her eyes and the scent of decay replaced the smell of homemade food. A black dream put the taste of dirty food in her mouth. Carole gagged, and the voices shouted. Never eat dirty food. You will cease to be. You will die. Averting her eyes from poisonous looking waves floating over food on the table, she shivered in the hot kitchen, fighting to keep the good food down. The boy next to her, chewed with an open mouth, his flat back eyes on her. Carole focused on him, hoping it would help. His name was Joyce, and chubby rolls of cinnamon colored skin peeked out beneath his shirt. He had shiny black hair and the voices quieted while she stared at him.Joyce opened his mouth to display an abundance of half chewed meat, imitating her gagging. With the scent of rot still firmly in mind, Carole’s stomach roiled. Joyce then turned to share his genius with the boy on his other side. Carole palmed her bread and meat, hiding it under the table. The boy on the other side of Joyce didn’t appreciate his show, and a furtive scuffle ensued. Most of the kids watched the covert fighting and Carole took the opportunity to toss the food into the space between her chair and Joyce’s. Almost instantly a dog’s head appeared in the spot. Daringly Carole patted the scruffy short fur once before snatching her hand back.
***Copyright 2013, S. R. KarfeltAll rights reserved.