Timepiece
Chapter 19

Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen

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.

A couple of days later, stepdad is back at the bar nursing a beer and a sore head.

“I don’t understand it,” stepdad said to the keep, “Your kid said she put out. She don’t.”

“You calling my kid a liar?”

“Yeah ... She’s a virgin,” SD said.

“You gonna have it to prove,” the keep said.

“She ran away,” said SD.

“What? You tried?”

“Yeah ... the only thing she gave me is this,” He took off his hat exhibiting a shaved patch, “Six stitches!”

Everybody at the bar gave him the MOM look.

“Don’t give me that look. Hey! She’s no relation to me!”

Nineteen guys broke out in laughter.

The keep said, “Let me call my kid. You can ask him face to face.” He picked up the House phone, dialed, and, “Let me speak to Bobby.”

“Hey! Get your butt down here.”

“Yeah ... guy wants to interview you.”

He hung up.

“Publicity interviews will get him every time.”

Twenty guys laughed.

 
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