juliaj
01-10-2012, 03:55 AM
I wrote this at about one in the morning last night, so it's pretty rough. I apologize for the bad language. (And for those who read my other story, I'm sorry I'm always talking about To Kill a Mockingbird, that book must always be in my mind. But isn't it in everyone's? :) )
Corrugated
As she cleaned the knife she had been using to cut carrots, Lucy realized that for the better part of the hour she had been exchanging pleasantries with the woman that ruined her life.
“I never really learned to cook,” Lucy said.
“Neither did I, I guess we’re just going to have to wing it!”
She talked to Kay every day, but for some reason that realization hadn’t dawned on her until now. Normally Lucy was able to avoid having any real conversation with her, but her father and Caleb were out of the house and Kay had suggested that they make dinner together.
“Do we have enough lettuce?” said Kay.
“Yeah, Dad bought more at the grocery store yesterday.”
“Oh good.”
When Lucy’s mother had discovered her father’s affair with Kay, and that there was a baby on the way, she had fled the country like some kind of fugitive, leaving a note only to say that she had no intention of ever returning. Lucy, her father, Kay and baby Caleb had since moved from the suburbs to an apartment in the city. One little happy family. For a long time Lucy refused to speak to Kay. She wouldn’t even touch Caleb. But gradually her father pressured her into being civil. And now here they were, making a salad and chatting. It wasn’t that she had warmed up to Kay, it was that constantly expressing her hatred had become exhausting.
“I need to get Caleb new shoes, maybe this weekend you can come shopping with us and we can get you more winter clothes."Mothers buy clothes for their daughters and you are not my mother you ****ing ****.“Maybe, I think I already told Jamie I’d go shopping with her this weekend.”
Christmas had been about a month ago. It was the first Christmas that Lucy was without her mother. Kay’s family had visited, and her own grandparents came as well. Everyone got along swimmingly by the fireside, and no one ever mentioned what had happened, not even her grandpa and grandma. It was as if this is how everything had always been.
“alright, well let me know if you need a ride.” Kay replied.
There was something about the way she said “alright” that made Lucy suddenly feel the crushing loneliness that kept her awake every night.
Lucy took a head of lettuce from the fridge and went to the sink to wash it. A small thought flitted through her mind that Kay could be a sociopath. As she half-listened to Kay’s chattering she remembered reading the words “incapacity to feel guilt.” somewhere.
“Jamie’s your friend from England, right?”
“Yep.”
Lucy put the lettuce on a cutting board and took the knife she had used with the carrots in hand. She knew that her father must have lost his mind, but she hadn’t found the courage (was that it?) to ask him why he did what he did. The problem was that her father gave no indication that he thought he and Kay had done anything wrong. No one did.
When Lucy finished with the lettuce she began slicing a tomato, and Kay started chopping an onion. Lucy hated onions in salad, but she didn’t feel like objecting.
“So your dad told me that you really like To Kill a Mockingbird. I always thought Harper Lee was so interesting, I wish she had written more books, don’t you?”
Lucy’s stomach turned a little. She hated when Kay knew anything personal about her.
“Yes. Unless it’s true what they say, that Truman Capote ghost-wrote T-KAM.”
“tee-kam?”
“To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“Oh, I see.” she laughed. Lucy looked up to see if Kay’s eyes were watering from the onion. Dry.
“I like to think she did write it,” Lucy said, tossing the diced tomatoes into the salad bowl. Her father hated tomatoes because her grandmother made him chop off tomato worms’ heads in their garden when he was a kid. She imagined him picking the tomato pieces out of the salad, just as she’d be eating around the onions.
Lucy reached for the bottle of balsamic off the high shelf. “ugh…” she recoiled her hand, sticky with the vinegar that had overflowed onto the side of the bottle. Caleb must have been playing in the kitchen again.
“What is it?” Kay asked.
“Oh, I just got some dressing on me.”
She washed the red from her hand and cleaned off the bottle.
Revenge isn’t like how it is in the movies. In real life no one ever gets that satisfying, clear-cut Kill Bill vengeance they want. She often thought about what getting revenge on Kay or her father would be like. Obviously eye for an eye was impossible. She could physically hurt Kay in any number of ways, but that probably wouldn’t make her feel better, at least not in the long run. It wouldn’t change anything. Revenge was, in truth, impractical.
“Well, your dad hates reading, I’m sure you know that. You must get your love of reading from your mother.”
Lucy stopped breathing for a second. A sharp pain shot up through her arm and she realized she had unconsciously gripped the blade of the knife with her left hand, and it had cut deeply into her palm. Blood began to fill up her cupped hand as the knife clattered down on the counter. Kay looked up from the cutting board. The blood was now traveling through the creases of her wrist and fingers like river deltas.
“Oh my god, Lucy, are you alright? Here, let me wrap it up.”
She grabbed a towel and hurried to Lucy’s side. When she reached out to wrap the towel around the wound Lucy pulled her hand away. She turned her gaze up from her hand, and for the first time she looked into Kay’s eyes. Brown, dull. She noticed that her concerned expression was really formed in her eyebrows and her frown. The eyes, though, they were empty.
“What are you doing, honey? Let me help you.”
Suddenly in one graceful sweep Lucy reached her hand up the Kay’s face and smeared her palm across Kay’s forehead. Kay let out a breathless gasp and stood motionless as Lucy’s blood dripped off her eyelashes. Lucy let out a laugh. It got louder, and soon she was laughing so hard she buckled over, falling backwards away from Kay towards the sink. She saw the trail of blood drawing a line across the floor between the two of them, and that really sent her over the edge. Kay watched in frightened stillness, and Lucy laughed and laughed until she fell to the floor, eyes watering and hand bleeding. The sound of the front door opening came from down the hall as her father and Caleb walked in.
“We’re home!”
Corrugated
As she cleaned the knife she had been using to cut carrots, Lucy realized that for the better part of the hour she had been exchanging pleasantries with the woman that ruined her life.
“I never really learned to cook,” Lucy said.
“Neither did I, I guess we’re just going to have to wing it!”
She talked to Kay every day, but for some reason that realization hadn’t dawned on her until now. Normally Lucy was able to avoid having any real conversation with her, but her father and Caleb were out of the house and Kay had suggested that they make dinner together.
“Do we have enough lettuce?” said Kay.
“Yeah, Dad bought more at the grocery store yesterday.”
“Oh good.”
When Lucy’s mother had discovered her father’s affair with Kay, and that there was a baby on the way, she had fled the country like some kind of fugitive, leaving a note only to say that she had no intention of ever returning. Lucy, her father, Kay and baby Caleb had since moved from the suburbs to an apartment in the city. One little happy family. For a long time Lucy refused to speak to Kay. She wouldn’t even touch Caleb. But gradually her father pressured her into being civil. And now here they were, making a salad and chatting. It wasn’t that she had warmed up to Kay, it was that constantly expressing her hatred had become exhausting.
“I need to get Caleb new shoes, maybe this weekend you can come shopping with us and we can get you more winter clothes."Mothers buy clothes for their daughters and you are not my mother you ****ing ****.“Maybe, I think I already told Jamie I’d go shopping with her this weekend.”
Christmas had been about a month ago. It was the first Christmas that Lucy was without her mother. Kay’s family had visited, and her own grandparents came as well. Everyone got along swimmingly by the fireside, and no one ever mentioned what had happened, not even her grandpa and grandma. It was as if this is how everything had always been.
“alright, well let me know if you need a ride.” Kay replied.
There was something about the way she said “alright” that made Lucy suddenly feel the crushing loneliness that kept her awake every night.
Lucy took a head of lettuce from the fridge and went to the sink to wash it. A small thought flitted through her mind that Kay could be a sociopath. As she half-listened to Kay’s chattering she remembered reading the words “incapacity to feel guilt.” somewhere.
“Jamie’s your friend from England, right?”
“Yep.”
Lucy put the lettuce on a cutting board and took the knife she had used with the carrots in hand. She knew that her father must have lost his mind, but she hadn’t found the courage (was that it?) to ask him why he did what he did. The problem was that her father gave no indication that he thought he and Kay had done anything wrong. No one did.
When Lucy finished with the lettuce she began slicing a tomato, and Kay started chopping an onion. Lucy hated onions in salad, but she didn’t feel like objecting.
“So your dad told me that you really like To Kill a Mockingbird. I always thought Harper Lee was so interesting, I wish she had written more books, don’t you?”
Lucy’s stomach turned a little. She hated when Kay knew anything personal about her.
“Yes. Unless it’s true what they say, that Truman Capote ghost-wrote T-KAM.”
“tee-kam?”
“To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“Oh, I see.” she laughed. Lucy looked up to see if Kay’s eyes were watering from the onion. Dry.
“I like to think she did write it,” Lucy said, tossing the diced tomatoes into the salad bowl. Her father hated tomatoes because her grandmother made him chop off tomato worms’ heads in their garden when he was a kid. She imagined him picking the tomato pieces out of the salad, just as she’d be eating around the onions.
Lucy reached for the bottle of balsamic off the high shelf. “ugh…” she recoiled her hand, sticky with the vinegar that had overflowed onto the side of the bottle. Caleb must have been playing in the kitchen again.
“What is it?” Kay asked.
“Oh, I just got some dressing on me.”
She washed the red from her hand and cleaned off the bottle.
Revenge isn’t like how it is in the movies. In real life no one ever gets that satisfying, clear-cut Kill Bill vengeance they want. She often thought about what getting revenge on Kay or her father would be like. Obviously eye for an eye was impossible. She could physically hurt Kay in any number of ways, but that probably wouldn’t make her feel better, at least not in the long run. It wouldn’t change anything. Revenge was, in truth, impractical.
“Well, your dad hates reading, I’m sure you know that. You must get your love of reading from your mother.”
Lucy stopped breathing for a second. A sharp pain shot up through her arm and she realized she had unconsciously gripped the blade of the knife with her left hand, and it had cut deeply into her palm. Blood began to fill up her cupped hand as the knife clattered down on the counter. Kay looked up from the cutting board. The blood was now traveling through the creases of her wrist and fingers like river deltas.
“Oh my god, Lucy, are you alright? Here, let me wrap it up.”
She grabbed a towel and hurried to Lucy’s side. When she reached out to wrap the towel around the wound Lucy pulled her hand away. She turned her gaze up from her hand, and for the first time she looked into Kay’s eyes. Brown, dull. She noticed that her concerned expression was really formed in her eyebrows and her frown. The eyes, though, they were empty.
“What are you doing, honey? Let me help you.”
Suddenly in one graceful sweep Lucy reached her hand up the Kay’s face and smeared her palm across Kay’s forehead. Kay let out a breathless gasp and stood motionless as Lucy’s blood dripped off her eyelashes. Lucy let out a laugh. It got louder, and soon she was laughing so hard she buckled over, falling backwards away from Kay towards the sink. She saw the trail of blood drawing a line across the floor between the two of them, and that really sent her over the edge. Kay watched in frightened stillness, and Lucy laughed and laughed until she fell to the floor, eyes watering and hand bleeding. The sound of the front door opening came from down the hall as her father and Caleb walked in.
“We’re home!”