All Stories, General Fiction

Good Girls and Goddesses by Rachel Sievers

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The bubble gum is a large wad in my mouth. I chew it until it is soft and then produce a limp bubble between my lips. I suck it back in and start again, chewing and molding the gum between my teeth hoping for better results. 

“That’s disgusting,” the goddess says from the driver’s side. I look over at her slowing my vigorous chewing. The light coming in from her window lights up her golden hair in a heavenly halo. Her bright red lips are full against her tan skin. The ten years difference in our age makes her every bit the monarch I bow to. 

“Sorry,” I whisper.

If you are going to chew gum it needs to be sexy, not sloppy, how else will you ever get a boyfriend.” I don’t tell her I am seven because that doesn’t matter, one should always be prepared for a boyfriend. Mama and her are experts at boyfriends, they always have one. 

We stop at the only red light in our little town and I look at the goddess again. She picks at a loose string on her tiny jean shorts but leaves her red bra strap hanging down her shoulder. I can’t wait to wear a bra. Sometimes I try on some of hers and mama’s when they aren’t around. The lace and bright colors always make me feel older than I am, regardless of the fact that there is nothing for the bra to hold up. 

The station wagon hums and clicks at the light. Mama said it was a piece of junk that needed fixed but we never seemed to get it fixed. A large jacked up truck pulls up next to our car and a shout comes from the truck. 

“Stacy,” the voice shouts. I lean over to see part of a hairy arm of the passenger. 

“Hey Bobby,” my sister says and I notice her voice changes from the one she uses with me. This one was sweet as honey with a small bite at the end. 

“You gonna be at bitchin’ beach tonight?” The voice askes. 

“Probably, depends.” 

“On what?” The light must have turned during this exchange because honks come from behind us. My goddess laughs and drives away. The truck drives next to us for a bit. There is some more shouting but I can’t hear it over the click and rattle of the station wagon. The conversation must have concluded though because the truck speeds off in a cloud of black smoke. 

“Tools,” she says and laughs. 

We pull into the trailer park and my sister parks on the half lawn, half driveway next to the white and brown trailer. I open the door and grab the goddess’s hand as we walk in. Before she lets go to open the door she kisses my hand. 

“Hey what took so long?” My mom asks as she blows a cloud of smoke out. 

“They wouldn’t take the coupon because it was expired, but I convinced them.” 

“That’s my girl. Hey I am going to need you to watch Tori tonight.”

“No way mom, I’ve got stuff.” 

“I’m not asking Stacy. I’ve got to work.” 

“Maybe at Freddy’s trailer,” the goddess says and laughs as she puts the small bag of food away. When my mom is mad she gets quiet and then goes on off like a firecracker that we sometimes get on the fourth of July. I don’t think the goddess saw the hand coming. When my mom smacked her she looked genuinely surprised, though with as many times as my mom smacks us she shouldn’t have been. 

“I said you are watching your sister.” 

The goddess’s face turns red not only from the hand but from rage. I scoot under the table that becomes my bed at night and hide in the back. Sometimes the fights can go on for a long time and if you are visible, you are often collateral damage. I don’t like being alone but sometimes it is the safest place to be.

“She’s your fucking kid, you watch her.” This time the goddess did see the hand coming and ducks out of the way. She never hits back and I am not sure why. I watch from a small opening as the fight gets bigger. The words start and go back and forth gaining in volume until I am sure the trailer will fall apart from their screaming. After a long time of fighting a knock sounds at the door. 

“What?” My mom yells at the door after yelling at the goddess. 

“Jean, keep it down, the whole park can hear you,” it is Mr. Alderman from next door. He is a nice old man who lives alone and smokes more than my mom. If he is in a good mood sometimes he will give me candy that may or may not have fuzz sticking to it. 

“Fuck you Tom,” my mom shouts. 

“I will call the police,” Mr. Alderman shouts from outside. 

“Screw this,” my mom shouts and I can hear her grabbing stuff from around the trailer. Then she opens the door and shouts something at Mr. Alderman before I hear the station wagon start and peel out. 

I hear the goddess sigh and sit down on the bench next to the table I am hiding under. I hear the flick of the lighter and smell the bitter bite of cigarette smoke. “Come out she’s gone,” she says. 

I crawl up on the opposite side of the table from her and look at the goddess. If she wasn’t immortal and perfect I would think she looks tired. I put my hand on the table and one of her soft perfect fingers reaches over and strokes mine gently. “You’re getting to be a big girl,” she says. 

I know what she wants me to say and I will do anything to please her, even say the thing that scares me most, “big enough to stay on my own.” 

The goddess blows out a halo of smoke and smiles, “there’s a good girl.” 

Rachel Sievers

Image by Kristie from Pixabay – young girls lips blowing a pink gum bubble.

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Published by literallystories2014

28 thoughts on “Good Girls and Goddesses by Rachel Sievers”

  3. Rachel’s work always has such well developed and visible characters. I thought there was a real tension in this – you just know that one day it’s all going to go horribly wrong, maybe not this time but inevitibly. Hero worship is a painful thing I think and here that is all captured in a relatively short short – Super stuff – Thank you-.Diane

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  4. Hi Rachel,

    This is a heart-wrenching tale of a young girl forced to confront the realities of life long before she should have to. It’s says it all that Mama and Stacy are “experts at getting boyfriends” and that even at 7-years-old, one must “always be prepared for a boyfriend.” Harsh words between the child’s older sister and mother punctuate a life style which is speeding by, soon to be out of control. On the “bright” side, Tori will likely have a young cousin to play with soon. It’s what so often happens in truncated families when an older female tries to hold onto her youth as a younger female tries to outstrip her own. As even Trump might say, “It’s sad…”

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  5. Hi Rachel,

    I really do trip over the word ‘Goddesses’, I can’t stop typing the damn thing!!

    I had a pal who couldn’t stop when he tried to say the actor Brian Dennehy’s name so it turned out like ‘Brian Denehenehay’ Sorry I digress!!
    Just like the type of life snap-shot that Adam Kluger has always done brilliantly, you do the same.

    This is a difficult skill to master as the balance is critical and you have to get it right.
    You showed us the three characters very clearly in such few words and that is a talent.

    The stories in your back catalogue are interesting and I’d urge everyone to seek them out.

    All the very best.

    Hugh

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    1. Thank you Hugh. I appreciate your kind words and encouraging me to keep submitting when I first started writing. Now want to read Adam Kluger which I am sad to say I haven’t read but will shortly. Thank you for reading.

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  6. Rachel

    I admired how this flash fiction began and ended in the middle (like an Anton Chekhov play or story), thus giving the feel of real life. The child narrator was effectively handled. This is a case of what looks simple is really hard to do, as the voice of your character was quite convincing even though the age of the character is really young. The way the narrator thinks of her older sister as an idol and a goddess really came through in a convincing way. And it seemed very accurate to a child’s psychology. Certain kinds of children probably consciously model themselves on others around them more than others do. This can be both a good, or a bad, thing, depending. Your story leaves the narrator’s character complexities unresolved, again like a Chekhov piece. Questions are asked in narrative form, and we don’t really know how the narrator will turn out. As in life, everything is ongoing all the time, and there are no final answers, even though many holier-than-thou folks might think they know all the answers (Mark Twain was remorseless in making fun of those kinds of folks). Thanks for a complex, character-based, realist short story.

    Dale

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    1. Thank you Dale. Again, I have found another writer to check out. This story has given me so many new authors to read- thank you for that. I truly appreciate you taking the time to read my work and your thoughtful response to it.

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      1. Dear Rachel,

        Congrads on the publication of an excellent story.

        My favorite Anton Chekhov short story is “The Student,” which I know about because Chekhov himself repeatedly claimed that this was his own favorite of all his works. This is a short, four-page story that can be read through in fifteen to twenty minutes or less. Once a reader has read this work a few times, maybe over a few weeks, s/he has the essence of all Chekhov’s voluminous works in a few pages, which is one thing that’s so amazing about it. (Available free online in English translation at Project Gutenberg in the collection “The Witch, and Other Stories”).

        Another great Chekhov piece is his short story “The Lady with the Little Dog.” His play “The Cherry Orchard” (adapted by David Mamet) is also excellent and great (and sad) fun.

        Congrads again! I truly admire writers who are always looking for new authors to read and like to count myself in this category.

        Sincerely,

        Dale

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  8. A small slice of life that is clearly well-chosen in that it is so telling. The little girl is in a rough family unit…as is the goddess. But someone once said that unhappy families are unhappy in unique ways…and you captured a specific and unique flavor

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  9. Rachel

    Some of my writer friends are doing ‘world building.’ “Good Girls . . .” did that for me. More like world revelation. I didn’t have a sister, but if I did, I doubt we would have learned much from each other the way two girls can. I doubt she would have taught me how to properly chew gum. Like on the pitching mound.

    A great job! Thanks.

    Gerry

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  11. Literally peeps –

    Comment rejected me again. In Newport Oregon looking at the ocean. Don’t know if that is the problem. I wrote something like “No idea as a younger brother in a somewhat stable house if this is accurate, but it reads real.

    MM

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  12. to paraphrase Shakespeare: Every goddess will have her day…. while the Mother is years past that, trying to raise the kids without a father, and so the cycle repeats. Keep chewing gum the way you want, kid.

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  13. A superb child POV story using the present tense really effectively. The story is compelling, but it is the strong, considered narrative voice that makes this one work so well.

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  14. Rachel you know how to grab your readers and connect them emotionally to your characters quickly. You really do have a talent for story telling.

    Rachel is my older sister and she captures a younger sister’s devotion and love for her older sister well. Although Rachel is nothing like the older sister in this story 😉

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