The Things They Wanted

The House

Coming around the bend in the road, I could see my house. No one was on the front porch. No sounds came from inside. The crunch of the gravel under my feet was deafening in the stagnent silence.

Pebbles let out a low whine as I put my foot on the first creaky stair. I bent down and gave her a brisk ruffle of the ears. She sighed and plodded off into the shade.

Continuing up the stairs, I pulled lightly on the screen door, then turned the knob and walked inside. The cool air hit me and I let out the breath I'd been unintentionally holding. No one was home.

I carefully unpacked my cooler and folded my blanket. I would be needing them again. Noticing the pile of dishes near the sink, I sighed and walked over to wash them. Being the only responsible child out of three left me with most of the chores.

Later I settled into the dark living room with my iPod and a book. Might as well take advantage of the empty house while I had the chance.
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I woke up to the door slamming. Light streamed through the window to my left, casting an orange hue throughout the otherwise dark room. The heavy footsteps in the foyer betrayed my father's arrival.

" Hannah! Where did you put my- Oh, never mind."

My dad fell into his recliner with a grunt. The pop and hiss of a can being opened answered the question of what he'd been looking for. The beer can showed a pretty scene of mountains, but I knew things would be no where near picturesque when my mom got home and saw it.

My dad is no alcoholic, but he does love his beer. Mom on the other hand, brought back prohibition in our household a few years ago, after some kids in town got killed in an accident involving "the devil's drink".

" I know you won't tell on me Hannah Banana," he said with a wink.

" Of course not daddy," I replied like I had so many nights before, and like I would for many nights to come.

Being daddy's little girl does have its perks. Rather than ask where I'd disappeared to that morning, my father just sat with me in companionable silence in the glow of the television.

Our peace was interrupted though by the obnoxiously loud entrance of my mother. The click clack of her approaching reminded me that she'd had a case today.

Her client had been involved in underaged drinking, and she was his "guardian angel" assigned by the rehab agency. Mom was very adamant about taking on troubled teen's problems. She would obsess over each kid until they were what she considered model citizens. Everyone knew my mom took her cases seriously. Only my family knew what a case really did to her. She would be stressed, and that was bad news for people on her sh*t list.

Which included my father, who had fallen asleep in his recliner with the beer can in his hand.

" David! What is this nonsense?!," she shrieked when she spotted the offending beverage.

My poor startled dad was defenseless against the rant to come, only made worse when he spilled his beer on the carpeted floor. I took my opportunity to slip away unnoticed up to my room. I didn't need to be roped into that particular argument.

I slunk silently up the stairs to my room. A gray door almost at the end of the hall marked the entrance to my meager quarters.

The best thing about my small bedroom was the window that ran the length of one wall. It looked out over the river and had an old oak tree just outside it. If I opened up the window, I could caress its shiny green leaves without even really stretching. Sometimes I even sat on the window sill and fed the birds who nested in the tree's shady boughs.

The sound of my mom's ranting still echoed on the floor below, effectively breaking  me out of my daydreaming. I took that as a sign to go to bed early. I changed into short cotton shorts and a fresh tank top, took care of bathroom bedtime things, and climbed into bed. I settled back against my pillows and drifted off to sleep with my parents bickering as a lulliby.

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