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Charlie Cradle's Wonderful Existence: A Novella

Page 17

by Scott J. Callaway


  ***~~~***

  Charlie sat outside on the damp stone steps of her apartment building complex, carrying a small duffle bag with enough clothes to last her a week, while waiting for her mother to come collect her with the old family car. She knew trying to convince her mother and father to lend her money for this month to afford paying her rent wasn’t going to be the hard part. Charlie never asked her parents for help, which she suspected made her mother sad because she did this even while growing up, and so she knew her mom would literally leap at the chance to come to her rescue. No, none of that took much convincing. The hard part was being required to visit and stay at her parent’s house for the week. If abhorrent demons and a fanatic bounty hunter hadn’t caused her to collapse on the brink of insanity, then she feared what her mother’s suffocating and needy personality might to do her.

  While she thought about what might take place during her visit to her parents’, Charlie’s thoughts started to wander to her purse, or more specifically, the card that had been placed inside her purse. Suddenly, the strap over her shoulder felt like it was tightening its grip and becoming heavier. She needed to get rid of that card. As much as she wanted to make all the madness stop, she didn’t know if she’d be able to live with herself if she caused Rowan’s capture. She reached a hand into her purse and dug around inside, trying to find it. However, she was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise from down the street, and she removed her hand from her bag, forgetting about the card.

  Right on cue, her mother’s first act to nudge Charlie over the edge occurred as she rounded the street corner and honked her car horn in her own special way of saying hello. As the car pulled up to the side of the street, Charlie sent a silent prayer to Asgard.

  “Hi, Charlene,” said her mother, brightly. “Are you all packed and ready to go?”

  Charlie nodded, stood up while grabbing her bag and shoulder purse, then placed everything into the backseat of her parent’s car and sat in the passenger side.

  “You know, Charlene, I’m so glad you called,” said her mother. “Your father and I are always here to help whenever you need it. And this will be a good reason for us to finally get some family time together!”

  “Please, mom, stop calling me Charlene,” said Charlie. “I like Charlie.”

  “There you go again with that boy’s name. When will you ever accept that your father and I raised a little girl? You looked so adorable in your Sunday dress with your hair all done up. Say, that gives me an idea, tomorrow why don’t we take a trip to the mall and get our nails done?”

  “Mom, I really appreciate you and dad doing this for me, but you know I hate that kind of stuff. I’m not like that.”

  Her mother knit her eyebrows and nodded sadly, looking like she lost another battle in trying to get her baby girl back. Charlie hated that look. But not because she believed her mother was trying to guilt her into giving in. That was a genuine look of sadness and defeat. It killed Charlie on the inside to see her mother so hurt. Even though she hated being her mother’s little princess, she could understand why she acted that way. That’s the way she grew up, and that was the only way she knew how to express her love for her.

  “I’ll tell you what,” said Charlie, “I’d still rather not go to some big, fancy salon, but if it means that much to you, how about we do our hair and nails at home together?”

  “Deal!” said her mother, her face instantly brightening to a degree that would rival that of the suns.

  Charlie also noticed her mother had started driving faster, and wondered if it was because of barely-restrained excitement. Then, taking a deep breath, knowing that she would have to be subjected too much unwanted motherly madness, she prepared herself for the long week ahead of her.

 

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