Monday, April 28, 2014
New Beginning 1027
Marcia Weston, thirteen years old and wearing a damp purple bikini, mixed martinis on top of her parents’ stereo cabinet.
“Isn’t she something?” Mr. Weston said. “Sophisticated, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” I said automatically. I had never seen a bottle of hard liquor before, much less anyone my age mixing drinks. Mr. Weston put his hands on my shoulders and steered me to Marcia's side. “You two girls go play now.” He picked up the tray of martinis and nudged open the sliding glass door to the patio.
Marcia looked me over, taking in my peter-pan collared shirt and corduroy play pants. “Where’d you move from?”
“Raleigh, North Carolina.”
“Oh my God, you sound like the Andy Griffith Show. No, Gomer Pyle. Here, Rah-lee, take this.” She handed me a shallow dish of green olives and grabbed two bottles of cola. “Come on.”
We retreated to a playhouse in the narrow side yard, shaded by a eucalyptus tree. “What’s with the ‘yes, sir'?” Marcia asked. "Is your dad in the military?" She placed olives on her fingers and waggled them. “Eat one. They're soaked in gin.”
In retrospect, it should have been obvious she was talking about the olives, not her parents, and a bit of intuition on my part would have prevented the horrors that were to follow.
Opening: IMHO.....Continuation: Anonymous