Need A Carrot For The Nose...

This is the story I wrote based on the writing prompt from a local writer's group I joined. Love to know what you think.




NEED A CARROT FOR THE NOSE

David J. Gibbs



“We need a carrot for the nose.”
Surely this night had to be over soon. Cassidy looked at the clock and realized she still had three hours to go before the gig was up. Putting down the scissors and spreading out the triangles she cut out, she looked at the mess they had made. She sighed, knowing who was going to have to clean it up.
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do,” he said as determinedly as his six years would allow.
He had his sleeves rolled up past the elbows, his dark hair long and hanging across his forehead. The gray sweater brought out the blue in the boy’s eyes.
“It will look stupid,” she wanted to say, but held her tongue. She knew better than to do that, it would only cause drama and especially so close to bedtime. Cassidy was grumpy and was ready for the night to be over. She’d had enough babysitting for one night. Charlie just never stopped. He was always wanting to glue or paste or color or paint. A little crafting machine, she sometimes felt like she was running her own nursery school when she watched him.
“It already looks stupid without it and I wanted to surprise daddy when he gets home,” he insisted, frowning as he turned toward her.
“Charlie would you please stop? We need to get you ready for bed in a little bit. If we want to read a bedtime story, you need to get your butt up those stairs.”
Honestly, she was getting a little old for these babysitting gigs and she knew it, but the fifty bucks was too sweet to pass up. Besides, she had taken care of Charlie before and he was a decent enough kid. Granted, all the other times had been before the divorce, but Mr. Boland was nice enough. Besides, he was pretty damn cute too, for an older guy. That made her smile in spite of being so tired.
“Cassidy?”
“Yeah, buddy?” she asked, sweeping some of the mess they made into the garbage can.
“Are you really going to college next month like dad said?”
Her smile grew even bigger. Using her hands, Cassidy pushed her long blond hair off of her shoulders. Hearing that word brought butterflies to her stomach. It filled her with so much excitement and so much hope, she felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
When she had read her acceptance letter a few months ago, she could hardly contain herself. It had been like an unexpected breath of fresh air moving through her otherwise unremarkable life. It was like winning the lottery to her, a ticket out of this place.
Cassidy had always wanted to get out of this tiny, postage stamp sized town and it looked like she was finally going to get her wish. She hated the way the whole town was into everyone’s business. Every prying eye, at the edge of every drawn shade and every whisper behind a cupped hand as you walked past, meant the grapevine was ripe with information about you, about everyone.
It would be nice to finally be out from under that kind of informal choke hold. To stay out as late as she wanted, without having to play twenty questions would be heaven. She wouldn’t have to worry about hiding the alcohol on her breath either. The most important thing however was Dillon Avery.
He’d been attending for the past two years. She loved going out with an upper classman, especially one in college. They always had better cars and knew their way around campus to all the best hot spots. They knew how to take a girl out and show her a good time.
Cassidy and Dillon had been sneaking around, the better part of her senior year, because she hadn’t turned eighteen yet and there was no way her daddy would ever approve of him. Dillon was a quarterback, an atheist and a partyer none of which were welcome in her father’s house.
“So are you?”
Charlie’s voice burned through her spider web of daydream.
She sighed heavily, before answering, “Yeah, I am. I’ll be in college in just about a month.”
Charlie tossed down his scissors and a few scraps of paper, saying, “Do you have to?”
Smiling at him and running her hand caressingly against his cheek, she said, “Unfortunately, yeah I do. I need to get moving on my future. I need to study real hard, so I can find a good job.”
“Isn’t babysitting a good job?”
Smart kid.
“Well, sure it is, especially babysitting you kiddo. You’re my favorite little guy to babysit.”
Tilting his head to one side, he said, “Do you say that to all the kids you watch?”
Her laugh sounded a little less sure than she wanted it to and she wondered if Charlie picked up on it.
“So, you’re leaving like mommy did?”
Wow, she hadn’t expected that response. Cassidy turned away from Charlie, trying to compose herself before answering. She was completely caught off-guard.
How should she answer?
She suddenly knew how her parents felt when as a young girl she asked them about Santa Claus. There had been something in their reply that just hadn’t seemed honest.
“No, I’m not leaving like your mommy did.”
“You said you were leaving though for college.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“And, you’re not going to babysit me anymore.”
“Well, that’s not true,” she said, realizing she was treading on thin ice at the moment, “I could always babysit you when I’m on my breaks.”
She knew it was lie, but couldn’t help herself. And, for just a moment, she thought he realized it had been a lie too.
“That would be awesome! You make the best cookies and we do the coolest stuff ever!” Charlie shouted rushing over and giving her a big hug.
She hugged him back and smiled.
“Can I take a bath?”
That came out of nowhere. She knew it would kill at least half an hour though, bringing them right to his bedtime. What could it hurt?
Cassidy took a deep breath and said, “That’s fine, but it’s bedtime after that. Okay?”
He nodded and took off for the bathroom, leaving Cassidy to clean up the craft table and snack messes they had already made. Tucking her blond hair behind her ear, she quietly put the scraps they cut out into a small box so that Charlie could use them another time. The tape and scissors all went into the drawer beside the fridge.
“Ready for me to run the water?” she called, rubbing her nose.
“Yeah!” was the answer.
She walked down the short hallway of the small two bedroom ranch house and came into the bathroom. On her knees, she tucked the shower curtain between the tub and the vanity and turned both faucets for hot and cold. A few moments of adjustment and she thought it was a good mix.
“Okay little man. Your tub awaits.”
When he didn’t answer, she turned around and cried out, falling against the tub. It was Mr. Boland in the doorway. She hadn’t heard him come in. Her smile faltered for a moment, not liking the look that was on his face. Cassidy didn’t think he was so super cute after all.
“Mr. Boland. You scared me. I didn’t hear you come in.”
He didn’t say anything, instead moving in quick decisive movements, driving his knee into her chest hard. She never saw the motion of his hand, a bitter taste filling her mouth, as warmth gently spilled down her chest from somewhere.
She briefly wondered where Charlie was.


***


“Dad,” Charlie called, the word stretched infinitely.
“What?” his dad asked.
“I’m almost done,” he said, carefully drawing the skin back so it was pulled taught over the gourd he had chosen for his craft. It was finally starting to take shape the way he had imagined it would.
“You are a crafting fool,” his dad said and ran his hand over his back, gently patting him.
He nodded and said, “I love doing crafts.”
“I know you do, buddy.”
“I’m glad Cassidy didn't leave like mommy did.”
“So am I.”
Charlie stood the large gourd upright, and brushed the blonde hair away from the face. He had always thought Cassidy had pretty hair. It felt so soft as he brushed it away from the stretched face. The forehead looked way better on this one. At least he thought so. It was almost completely wrinkle free. The eyes were filled with polished stones that filled the eyes. The mouth was stitched closed around another stone.
He put his newest creation next to his other crafts and compared them. The skin was difficult to work with and mold to the gourds, but he was getting better at it. He was only disappointed with the nose. He always was. They always fell inward and never protruded the way he thought they should.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Charlie?”
“We need a carrot for the nose.”