Page 3 of Frosty Felicity
CHAPTER TWO
Rat Poison in a Cheeseburger
“Cheerio killed a skunk.” Mom sighed as she shoved another dish under the running faucet, her nose wrinkled in disgust. The smattering of freckles along her cheeks somewhat disappeared as her face twisted. Mom was a brown skin, unusual-looking woman, the color of milk chocolate, with freckles that people often mistook as moles. With her wavy dark brown hair, thick brows and thin, but beautifully shaped, lips, she was striking and attention worthy.
Felicity had been told she looked a bit like her mother, too, but was more like her father, who was the color of maple syrup, had a reddish undertone and kinky, dull curls. She slipped her purse off her shoulder, letting it fall to the small wooden kitchen table with a bowl of fake fruit in the center. On it also sat a creased brochure from the Cincinnati ballet advertising the upcoming performance of The Nutcracker.
“Did she bring it inside the house?” Felicity asked as she sat down, the soles of her feet aching from a long day at the pharmacy.
“She placed the dead vermin on the vent. The heat was on. I’m sure you realize what that caused! The entire house smelled like roasted rodent for three days.” Felicity shook her head and chuckled. “Girl! It was awful. What a stink!”
Mom rinsed, then dried her hands and spun around, a big smile on her face. There was no reason for looking so jovial. No reason at all. It always perplexed Felicity how and why her mother would smile so much. “I heard on the news that critters were out of control this fall,” Mom continued. “There have been a record number of field mice and squirrels getting into people’s houses, some even entering through the chimneys. Our neighbor three doors down—you know, Ms. Noble—she had a problem with raccoons.”
“Raccoons can be vicious little assholes.”
“Yes, they can be. Your father had had a run in with one when you guys were little. Anyway, Mrs. Noble said one was sitting on her porch, with its legs crossed, on the patio chair, as if it were sunbathing. When she tried to shoo it away, it yawned, and turned over on its side. It then stretched its legs and went to sleep. That’s some damn nerve. They’re not the least bit afraid of humans. It might be time to start shootin’ them with BB guns, like my father used to do.”
Felicity placed her hand over her mouth, then laughed.
“There might be laws against that sort of thing, Mom.” Felicity shrugged. “Inhumane maybe? Either way, I definitely understand the temptation.”
“She was scared to death. That has to count for something.”
“How’d she get rid of it?”
“Rat poison in a cheeseburger. Oh, I have good news. I almost forgot to tell you, Felicity!”
“What? Your Christmas Snoopy inflatable wasn’t vandalized with a drawing of an ass crack on the back of it this year?”
“Be serious! I haven’t even put the Snoopy out yet… You know I don’t decorate for Christmas until November 28th.”
When you put him out, the terror will begin again.She smiled to herself. Now that was a reason to smile. A good reason to be jovial! Soon enough, the neighborhood kids would poke a hole in him, or better yet, take a marker and draw a huge hairy prick and balls on the front of him like two years back. I hate that Snoopy… with his lopsided red Santa hat that is far too small for his big eggplant-shaped head. Hopefully the little bastards will return and go to work on that big ball of air as they should. I love you, Mom, but that was hilarious. Seeing Snoopy under attack was the best part of Christmas…
But she’s got a ring alarm now though. They’re probably afraid of getting caught. What a shame.
“I wish I would have thought of it first.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, never mind. Just brainstorming my Christmas gift list.”
“Um… what was I saying?” Mom tapped her long finger, the short nail painted bright red, against her bottom lip. “See how you do? You know I can’t stand it when you interrupt me. Now you’ve got me all off track.” She swung a dish towel in the air as her voice rose. Felicity looked away, then yawned. Just like the racoon.
“You were saying you had good news.” She yawned once again, and this time, it wasn’t for show.
“Yes, your brother is getting married!”
“…I give it two years.”
“Girl, don’t start.” Mom grimaced and crossed her arms.
“What?” She threw up her hands. “Why does everyone make such a big deal about these things? Basically, Fredrick will have a live-in maid and cook, while he pretends to be a record producer once again. It’s Halloween every day for him. The man is almost forty and still living in the land of make-believe. Never mind how I busted my behind in school, and worked hard to secure a good job while he runs around here still rapping for the ’99 and 2000’s. When is he going to get a real gig, Mom?”
“He does work, Felicity. He’s at the call center, remember? In fact, he’s the floor supervisor. Felicity rolled her eyes. “He’s also thinking about going back to college.” I think about popping a hammer repeatedly upside the racist White lady’s head that comes into the pharmacy and asks if there is someone else she can get her medication from besides me, but thinking and doing are not the same. “The record producing and DJing are hobbies of his, is all. Why do you have to be so negative all the time?”
A pang of pain radiated in her chest at such an accusation. Well, not really, but Felicity placed her hand across her chest to mimic an emotional wound all the same.
“Negative? Me? Why doesn’t he know that him still looking like Kool Moe Dee in this day and age is humiliating?” Mom rolled her eyes. “‘How Ya Like Me Now’ lookin’ ass… Big surprise! I didn’t like him then, and I don’t like him now! Fred needs a J.O.B.”
