|Bad Papa (standard:horror, 1200 words)|
|Author: hvysmker||Added: Dec 21 2003||Views/Reads: 2513/1552||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A little girl helps support her family during WWII|
I followed him for blocks, keeping to the shadows. It was after two a.m. and most of the town was sleeping in the cool autumn night. The man was clearly drunk, and also clearly a draft dodger. He was well dressed for the weather, with a heavy overcoat, which would make it a little difficult. My little .22 didn't have a whole lot of penetration. The drunk stepped into an alley and unbuttoned his pants. I walked quickly to the alley and behind him. He looked over in sudden alarm, as I smiled at him, and then returned to his business. “Ged outa' here, kid, yur too yung fer me” He was not afraid of a little kid like me. A big mistake, which he realized as the first bullet entered his head. Three more followed, a series of small cracks violating the still of the night. I couldn't see his face as he slowly folded, causing me to dodge a thin stream as he fell. “Darn it.” I muttered as I tried to roll him over, Mama said it was bad to cuss. I didn't want to spoil the coat. I could get a few bucks from Sammy for it. He shivered and clutched at my arm as I shoved him onto his side, still pumping in reflex. Luckily it was going downhill, away from him. While he was still dying, I searched for his wallet. It had about a hundred dollars in it. Enough for tonight. It would pay a few months rent, and I could go home early tonight. To make sure he was dead, I kicked him in the nuts, He didn't respond. I struggled and removed his coat, watch and other valuables. I would take them to Sammy in the morning. Nobody bothered me as I returned home with my burden and stashed it in the empty garage. ******** I was only ten years old when WWII started. My father was one of the first men who joined from our town. He lied and said he was single. It left my Mother with four kids and no income. She couldn't even get an allotment from the government. Mama tried but, not even knowing the name Papa joined with, couldn't get the Government to believe her. There was no welfare in those days and she didn't have any close relatives. Just her parents thousands of mile away. She had to settle for a waitress job, which didn't pay much. Without Papa around, she started hitting the bottle pretty good, and soon lost interest in us kids. On my own, I just kind of drifted out of school At first she tried to make me go but, since I was around a lot and could take part of the load off her, soon relented. Since she was drinking up the money almost as fast as she made it, I decided to help. There wasn't much a ten year old could do to make money in the forties. Papa did leave some things behind, the little pistol for instance. I suppose he got a bigger gun in the Army. I had dreams of shoving it up his butt. ********** “Mama, Janie's get'in in the ice box again” Mama was nodding in her chair, shoes off and a drink beside her. She had finished a twelve hour shift and, between exhaustion and a few drinks, was out of it. I put down baby Ruth and headed for the kitchen. The four year old Janie was standing in the open ice box door, trying to chip off a chunk of ice with the ice pick. Afraid she would hit her hand with it, I took it away and chipped her a chunk. My brother Peter, eight, was standing there watching us. “You know, you can help out a little around here,” I told him, “Mama and me can't do it all by ourselves.” Click here to read the rest of this story (73 more lines)
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