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Friday, January 12

Nasty Thoughts

"Nasty Thoughts"
Short Fiction - Crime
by Stacie Penney

Perhaps it's my Catholic school upbringing that makes me believe that the passing police officer will stop me. Does the imagination have far to leap when it's trained to believe that a supreme being knows everything about you? Could a human tell when you have sinned from the flapping plastic garbage bags in the bed of the truck?

I watch my rearview mirror, just in case, but the police car continues. No dramatic u-turns or flashing lights. No wailing sirens or amplified voice demanding I pull over immediately. Nothing about the rusted frame to catch his attention.

Quite disappointing.

Perhaps if my parents had chosen the public school, I wouldn't possess a misplaced sense of importance. But they choose the finest school the Church had to offer. It was easy to believe their teachings when nothing contradicted them.

The problem might not have been a by product of my fine religious upbringing. It was, after all, my parents' decision to send me there. My mother specifically.

I expect that after three miscarriages and eight years of marriage, it was easier to indulge her whims than fight. How does one fight against someone who has the backing of the venerable institute like the Catholic school? God commanded, "Go forth and multiply." She treasured the command in her heart but wasn't allowed to fulfill it. I was meager satisfaction for the promised blessing of children.

My mother enforced the Church's teachings at home while Daddy read the newspaper. Once I crossed that line symbolized by puberty and middle school, I heard nothing but how boys wanted to take advantage of girls and talk them into doing nasty things.

I was curious. Not about the boys so much, but the nasty things. No one could actually say what those were. Even when she screamed threats through the locked door, she was careful not to let it slip what might be so nasty.

I never heard my mother yell as loud as she did when I played hooky in seventh grade. Until today. But that day was just as thrilling. After that I heard about girls who had nasty ideas and unnatural thoughts and needed to pray for their souls.

My knees still ache when I think of the Hail Marys I did for penance.

Today my mother learned just how nasty a girl's thoughts truly can be.

My rear view mirror isn't large enough for me to watch the police car drive over the bridge that leads to the bad side of town. I'm sure that's where he's headed, though.

Probably answering a call of domestic abuse or a child playing with a gun.

No reason to suspect that the lumpy garbage bags in the bed of my truck are anything other than lawn clippings.

Stacie Penney resides in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, with her husband, two sons, two dogs and possibily a pair of ducks, should they decide to return this year. In between dishes, laundry and researching Oshkosh's night life, she's stealing time to finish her next novel. Raspberry-Latte.blogspot.com is the best way to catch-up with her.

3 reactions:

Kelly Parra said...

Awesome, Stacie! Very creepy! Thanks for sharing with FM. =D

Mat Danaher said...

We all feel like that sometimes.

Er don't we?

Maybe it's just me...

Paula said...

You do twists really well, Stacie. I shall start calling you O. Stacie.