Thursday 25 April 2013

Spats - MWBB

Mid Week Blues Buster, is a weekly Flash Fiction challenge hosted by Jeff Tsuruoka, with a bit of a difference as it offers a sound prompt, rather than photos or words. It also has a slightly longer deadline than most, starting Tuesday and finished end of the day Thursday.

I really enjoyed my first attempt, which won me an Honourable Mention, so I was keen to try again, and I enjoyed it so much I thought I would post my entry here. I also found an image that reflected what I had in my head.

Spats



Katy was mesmerised by his spats. The speed they flew at as he danced making the black and white merge into one. Her eyes then moved up his legs to his body, taking in the bright yellow striped zoot suit he wore, and finished on his fixed grin. One hand remained on his Trilby the whole time the song played. She’d never seen anything like it.

She looked over at her dad who was nodding along to the beat on the other side of the small stage-side table, and pick up her sarsaparilla drink. She sipped it as she looked round at the other patrons in the small club.

It wasn’t often she got to spend time with her dad, and then, much like now, it was just as a hanger-on, while he was ‘doing business’ at one of his clubs. She knew he’d have rather left her at home with a sitter, but tonight there hadn’t been anyone. So she got to wear the blue frilly dress that her aunty had bought her last birthday, and sit here with the adults.

When the song stopped, her father beckoned the dancing man over. Then he whispered something in the man’s ear and the man turned giving the same fixed grin he danced with, and introduced himself. Then her dad told her he’d be back in a minute and the man sat down next to her as another band started to play.

He was pleasant at first, chit chatting and asking her how she liked the show, and how often she came here with her ‘pop’ as he referred to him. But then he starting asking her odd things, about her age and whether she had a boyfriend, and what sort of things she got up to. She didn’t really like it, but tried her best to be polite. Then he put his hand on her leg and she didn’t like that at all.

Katy looked around for her dad, and spotted him standing at the back of the room talking to a man who looked angry. Her dad’s face was side on to her and she could see he wasn’t happy either. She hoped he might glance her way, but he didn’t and the man in the funny suit was starting to slide his hand up her leg. He even leaned over and started whispering things that scared her a little about what he wanted to do to her, she didn’t understand them all.

She could feel her heart pounding, and focused on the sarsaparilla in her hand instead, drinking it dry, and not stopping at the slurpy noises. And then he licked her ear. She jerked her head away, resisting the urge to scream, and he grasped her face to try and hold it in place, his hand now hurting on her leg as he gripped it hard. She resisted as much as she could, trying to pretend nothing was wrong and that this wasn’t happening; focusing on the performers on the stage, but she could feel his breath in her ear and his fingers at the top of her leg, rubbing places she didn’t think he should.

Then her dad was there, grabbing the man by the tie, pulling him out of his seat and punching him hard in the face. The band faltered and the music died, and everyone heard him call the man all sorts of words she didn’t know the meaning of. The two big doorman came up and took him away. Her dad knelt down in front of her, tears shining in his eyes, and he said the words she had always wanted to hear, “I’m never going to leave you alone again sweetheart, I promise.”



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