Timepiece
Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 19
Annabelle Carson was a late bloomer. Beginning at about 12, men started noticing her face and hair. At 13, stick figures had better curves. At 14 the stick developed erasers. At 15 men started noticing her face last. At 16 her body went bananas; after that it took a lot longer for men to notice her face ... some never did.
“Beautiful girl,” said one man to another.
“I never noticed,” he replied. “Built like a brick outhouse.” And he rearranged his discomfort.
It was because she looked positively spectacular that step daddy was certain she was loosely moraled.
“Girls ... decent girls ... didn’t look like that when I was in school,” he said to the barkeep. And it was true, stepdad grew up in North Dakota. Girls, the ones he went to school with, were built big and generally well padded ... to keep from freezing to death as they hiked through three feet of snow, uphill both ways, on the way to the one room school on the school section. Stepdad grew up in a world where thin signified poor and sickly.
The barkeep had been a middle line backer for the Varsity back in the Glory Days. His son was one now.
“The boy says all the girls put out,” said the keep.
Not realizing ... or maybe realizing ... that his boy would still be a virgin if it wasn’t for East Side Annie, the dad was hopefully proud of his kid. The boy wore number 36 ... his old number ... and nothing ... but nothing could convince Dad that his boy was less than honorable. If the kid said she put out ... she put out.
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