Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bombs
Running when we hit 'em
Lethal poison through their system
M.I.A. ~ Paper Planes
♠♠♠
December 15th ~ 7:27 AM
It is way too early in the morning, to be stuck in the small bathroom trying to do something with the tangled mound of morning curls that is my kid sister's hair. The daily battle with the Medusian nest of snakes that is Gracie's hair is a study in caution. Just one wrong move on my part and I can inadvertently set off a chain reaction that will end up with all of us having a very bad day. My sister going to preschool is hard enough on us as is. But Gracie going to preschool with an Irish attitude problem is going to be twice as hard on everyone else.
I truly believe that there is some sort of strange sequence of supernatural events that happens to her hair at night, the defies scientific explanation. Personally, I suspect the dark forces of the Fair Folk have been hard at work conspiring against us again. Because somehow between the time she goes to sleep to when she wakes up, Gracie's perfectly pristine cute curls seem to coil themselves into a tangled knot of hissing, spitting pit vipers to meet me in the morning.
So I am stuck struggling to get the nest snakes ready for school when the first text of the morning comes in. I spot my cell phone silently flashing on the edge of the sink, and I almost ignore the incoming message ...almost. But as I learned a long time ago, the first thing in the morning is the perfect time of day for shit to go sideways. So I take a timeout in my morning battle with Medusa's many snakes, lean over and skim the first text message.
UCK: Jackie it's me. I need you to come see me today up at my house. Cause I got to call in an ask from you today. 🙃🙃🙃
As soon as I finish reading the text, I start to feel a slight shiver attach itself to my spine. Those three little telltale upsidedown smiley faces at the end of the text are the standard signature for the least funniest person I know ...my Uncle Chuckie. The double usage of the word "today" in the message is his personal crazy code to move my ass ASAP. But it's that "call in an ask" part at the end of the message which is what really has me troubled the most.
Knowing my insane uncle this message could mean a myriad of things in the moment. None of which are particularly good for me and mine. Truth is that my Uncle Chuckie is probably the last person in the world that anyone actually wants to see on purpose. The sad fact is, that his not-so-funny face probably has been the last thing that more then a few people have seen. People that were stupid enough to get cross-ways with Chuckie have a very bad habit of disappearing off the face of the earth.
The sad reality is that I've been living on borrowed time with Mr. Smiley Face now for a couple of years already. So today is the day that I finally find out what the devils due, for the choices I've made and the favors I've made in trade. I mean I always knew in my heart there would come a day that the butcher's bill would come due. That I would eventually have to pay Chuckie back for all the stuff he's done for us for the last three years plus. I just kind of hoped it would be sometime after high school was over ...or maybe a murder?
I finally give up fighting the losing battle with my sister's hair. Pull the entire mess back out of her eyes, and just slip her "Bad Hair Day" black bandanna over her head and tie it off tight. It's not a particularly pretty look, with her hair sticking out at odd angles around the quick fix. But at least the snapping snakes will stay out of her eyes for a while.
YOU ARE READING
The Jackal's Girls
Teen FictionJackson Killian is being forced to change schools and relocate to the very nice town of Seaton. In order to attend and play football for a private school for his senior year in high school. But even though it's "an offer he can't refuse", it also co...
