Odelia woke from a light doze to the sound of tuneless humming. Courtney was sitting cross-legged beside her with a Barbie doll in each hand, making them walk toward one another.
"Hi," Odelia croaked. Clearing her throat, she reached for her water glass. As she touched it, the back of her hand grazed the side of the ever-present container of swill, and her eyes widened in surprise.
Her skin didn't slide across the expected slick, smooth surface, but something textured, something bumpy and ridged.
This morning's portion of swill had been served, not in one of the usual plain pressed-glass pitchers, but in Melanie's 'special occasions only' Waterford crystal. Light sparkled off the intricate diamond and wedge pattern cut deeply into its sides.
As Melanie well knew, Odelia had always loved that set of crystal.
Encased behind the glass doors of the buffet, it seldom needed cleaning in between uses, but she had a habit of dusting it once a week anyway. She enjoyed handling the pieces. On cloudless afternoons, she liked to hold a glass up to the picture window in the living room, to see it sprinkle sequins of light across the walls.
The feel of the crystal pitcher's pattern rubbing against her skin was so appealing that she found herself automatically pulling her hand back to reach for it, instead of the plain one that held her water.
Get control of yourself! One more day, just hold out one more day, you can do it you know you can do it, YOU HAVE TO...
Forcing her traitorous fingers to curl, she clutched the hand into a fist so tight it hurt her knuckles. After a few seconds had ticked by, the impulse waned to the point she was able to pull the water forward, as originally intended.
She brought the straw to her lips. The water was tepid and had a stale taste. She sipped it gratefully, anyway.
The struggle to maintain her fast had gotten a little tougher each day she'd been on it, but at least now when she told herself 'just one more day' she knew it might very well be no longer than that.
It had been nearly two weeks since the 'temporary financial set-back,' as Melanie insisted upon calling Odelia's raid on the family's resources. They had been weeks filled with screams, tears, and slamming doors, occasionally punctuated by stretches of tension-filled silence. Something had to give, and soon.
"Has Mommy got you guys on pinch patrol again?" Odelia asked Courtney, thinking please say no. Melanie had become too preoccupied to enforce the schedule, and Odelia had been hoping this happy state of affairs would become permanent. "Are you supposed to be keeping me awake?"
Engrossed with her dolls, Courtney answered without taking her eyes off them. "No," she said.
That was a relief.
"Whatcha' doing here, then?"
The dolls paused and she twisted them, turning their faces toward Odelia's at the same time she did her own. Her big dark eyes were solemn. "It is too yelly out there."
With a guilty start, Odelia felt the heat of a blush wash across her face. At no point had she ever considered that the emotional shit-storm she'd set in motion would inevitably slosh over onto the children. If she had...
She stopped the thought there, forcing herself to face and acknowledge the truth. If she had, she still would have gone through with it.
The theft had been necessary. She couldn't hold out for two years, nor could she submit to a lifetime spent in the manner of a queen termite, imprisoned and immobile in mind as well as body, the entirety of her being reduced to the never-ending repetition of one bodily function.
YOU ARE READING
Tipping the Scales
Chick-LitOdelia has spent most of her life so firmly under her brother's thumb that she might as well have been an insect trapped in a chunk of amber, but now, at long last, something is happening to her. Too bad it's not a nice, normal, something, like a '...
