dirty back roads

Once upon a time, in a small town near you, there lived a little girl. Not just any little girl… no, she was a special little girl. She knew she was special because her daddy told her so. Thats also how she knew her daddy loved her. She knew a few other things, but for the most part, her youth prevented her from grasping most other than the most basic truths. Her youth also afforded her a beautiful imagination, and she would spend hours alone, amusing herself with most anything.

Sometimes she would pretend she lived alone in the woods behind her house, except her house wasn’t there, and she was the queen of the forest and all the animals in the kingdom would obey her. Other times she would climb the highest branches of the big old oak out front and imagine that she was the owl that would often call to her in the night. Some evenings, inside the house, sitting at her father’s feet she would pretend she was riding a magic carpet high in the sky. It was a good thing that her imagination was interesting to her… she had a lot of time to herself.

Her father worked long hours on their farm, and her mother had vanished long enough ago that the little girl sometimes wondered if she ever existed or if her memory of her was just another thing she imagined. Daddy never talked about mommy, so neither did she. Infact daddy didn’t talk about much at all, and with no brothers or sisters around, it’s a wonder she had any vocabulary at all. Thankfully she was quite adroit at using a radio – she had her own battery-operated portable fm radio that was always by her side, as was the old farm dog Rufus.

Sometimes daddy would get frustrated with her and the radio. If she didn’t turn it off when he asked, he’d take it from her and place it on a high shelf out of her reach. Fortunately for both of them she was rather obedient and rarely crossed her father on purpose. If daddy drank too much from certain bottles, he’d sometimes react a bit more harshly, and might take her over his knee. It hurt a bit, but frankly, she didn’t mind the physical contact. Besides, after her punishment, daddy would always hold her tight and tell her how much he loved her and how special she was. He would shower her with kisses and whisper in her ear all these things. Some nights he wouldn’t let her go until he had fallen asleep with her in his arms. She was so fond of these moments with her father. The little girl craved his love, but knew better than to ask for it – although she would occasionally disobey him just for the attention.

One night she was listening to the radio and quietly drawing a picture on the floor, when a song came on that her daddy did not like to hear. She could identify it from the first three notes and would usually quickly shift the dial. She figured she try to let the song play through for once, as it seemed to strike a long lost memory in herself, but a memory so distant and fuzzy that she may never understand it. Daddy was nearly done one of his bottles and his head was hanging down against his chest. About halfway into the song he started to grunt and come to life. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the culprit as the chorus began to play for the third time. He threw his bottle at the radio and yelled for the girl to turn it off. The bottle hit her instead and knocked her out cold as the music blared on. He rose from his chair and stumbled the few feet to where she lay next to the radio and with a swift kick sent the radio across the room just as the song was ending. He looked down and saw his daughter lying at his feet and immediately felt shame. He picked her up and held her and told her he was sorry and whispered how much he loved her in her ear and told her how special she was. He weaved through the empty house, holding her close as he took her up to her bedroom. He tried to gently lower her onto her bead, but lost his balance and flopped her limp body down with his following close behind. Feeling the soft surface under him, he almost instantly fell asleep, laying across his daughters legs.

Sometime later he woke, and in his drunken sleepy state, confused perhaps by the fact that there was a body under him, he felt in the darkness and found the bare, smooth skin protruding from under his waist.