Wardens
Photo credit: Hellgasms! (Flickr.com)
“I don’t know what to do,” Mark confessed. “I’ve tried everything.”
Elly sat silently, the pancake makeup on her face glistening in the bright lights of the living room. Her expression was dull, probably the result of the pot she had reeked of when she’d climbed in her window. It wasn’t the first night Mark and Rhea had caught her sneaking out of her room to go out partying in parts unknown. But it was the first time they’d decided to greet her as she returned from her misadventures.
But Elly didn’t seem to care, and as she sat in her chair — the same chair Mark had built for her in his shop, with the little heart carved into the top and the pink trim he’d painted on himself — she almost seemed to be biding her time, waiting for her parents to release her so she could go to bed blissfully unrepentent.
“I have some ideas,” said Rhea. She paced around the room angrily as she ticked off her options on her fingers. “I’m calling tomorrow and getting an alarm system installed that will go off if any door or window gets opened. I’m also going to have them put cameras outside so I can see everyone who comes and goes from this house at any hour. And I’m taking a picture of that…” she spat the word, “…boy that we found in your room down last week to the school principal to find out who he is, and then, I’m going to the police to file charges.”
Elly rolled her eyes, but said nothing.
“And if you thought you were miserable before being grounded,” Rhea laughed now. “Ho, ho, missy, you’re going to love your new life, because I’m going to pick you up from school every afternoon and make you go sit down at the office with me until I’m done working. And then, you’re coming straight home, and sitting out where we can see you until we go to bed. No more shutting yourself up here in your room, no more hiding out in the car, no more trips down to the basement. When we look up, we’ll see you, and if we don’t, we’ll make sure you’re back in our sight before you can count to ten. You’ll be lucky if I let you close the door when you go to the bathroom.”
Mark listened to his wife ramble on, and sunk into the mattress on his daughter’s bed for a moment. He remembered when they’d taken her to the store and picked out this bed together, when she’d turned twelve. It had been a big deal to her, to graduate from the little twin bed she’d had since she was three years old to a double bed where she could keep all of her stuffed animals. That had just been four years ago. It was amazing to think that the little girl who had seemed so immature and innocent was now sneaking out and doing all sorts of things Mark had never dreamed she’d do.
“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Rhea demanded. Mark sat up, and looked at his daughter.
“I’ve got Saturday detention in the morning,” Elly said. “Let me go to bed.”
Rhea turned to Mark. “She doesn’t even care!” she said. “Say something to her!” Her eyes were pleading: Tell her how dangerous the world really is, or how girls who sneak out and do drugs wind up dead, or how sex with men she barely knows can give her an STD or get her pregnant. Tell her something to make her straighten up and be our little girl again.
Mark knew that none of that would matter. And so he stood up, looked at his wife sadly, and said, in a quiet voice, “You both go to bed.” He walked over to the chair where Elly was sitting, and touched her on the shoulder. “Go clean up.”
Elly stood up. “I’ve got to go wash my face,” she said, and walked out towards the bathroom.
Rhea looked at him with wide eyes. “What was that?” she demanded. “Are you just going to give up on her?”
“No,” Mark said. He stroked the chair he’d made, his fingers running along the heart in the frame. “I’m going to sit here, and make sure that she doesn’t try to leave again. And tomorrow, we’ll get that alarm appointment scheduled. Everything you said was right.”
“But what do we do?” Rhea asked. “She can’t go on like this. She’s going to get in real trouble, Mark, and we’re not going to be able to help her.”
Mark nodded as he sat down. “I know,” he said. “But we’ve done everything we can do for her. She’s made us in to wardens. And wardens don’t scream or yell. They just make sure the sentence is served and that the prisoners don’t kill each other.”
“You make it sound like we should just let her go do whatever she wants,” Rhea said.
“No,” said Mark. “I’m just saying that the more resents us, the less effective we are. There’s got to be a better way.”
“Whatever, Mark,” Rhea said. “I’m going to bed.”
Elly eventually settled back into the room, wearing a tight t-shirt and pajama shorts with the word, “juicy” written on the back. He didn’t realize she owned those, but he’d make sure she didn’t get any more like them. She shot her father a look of contempt, settled into bed, and turned away from him as she turned out the light above her bed.
And Mark sat, and watched his daughter angrily drift off into sleep, and thought about a solution to the problem — a way for their family to be whole once more. A way that would work.
But by the time the sun rose, he still found himself without an answer.
Fiction, Writing Scraps | SeanJJordan | 
May 31, 2010 9:30 pm
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