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Molly and the Geezer
Contents


Molly and the Geezer
and the Death of Grandma Claire

Michael Spooner


A joyful look at the highest of human values: greed, double-crossing, poor parenting, love, spite, and come-uppance!!



Copyright 2012 Michael Spooner

All rights reserved. Feel free to share a link to these pages,
but do not copy the text, print, or re-post it on any other
site, personal or public.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters herein
to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.


Eight


It wouldn’t hurt, Rhinehart reasoned, to cultivate in Molly some of his own worst character flaws. He could teach her some things, he told himself. He could coach her, plant some ideas. Yes. He enjoyed the idea of an apprentice. This could be amusing, and at the same time, it might even hasten the day of her undoing.

“Rhinehart?”

“Don’t chew your pencil. You’ll get lead poisoning.”

“Rhinehart, listen: People should never ever do drugs.”

“Sure they should.”

“No. I have to write five sentences on saying No to drugs.”

“In fourth grade? Well, that’s just silly, ain’t it?”

“No, it’s serious. Mrs. Katterhenry told us very scary stuff. ”

“Lila Katterhenry? Really old teacher? Kinda broad in the beam?”

“Yes.”

“When she was in fourth grade, she sat right in front of me. You think she’s scary now—you shoulda seen her in pigtails.”

“You sat behind Mrs. Katterhenry in fourth grade? Whoa. I didn’t think she was that old.”

“You just watch it.”

“Did she have to take fourth grade twice, too?”

“Look. What does Lila Katterhenry say will happen if you take drugs?”

“You’ll fry your brain and die.”

“Right. So who would ever want to do that?”

“I dunno.”

“A bonehead, right? And if a bonehead wants to fry his brain and die, then good on him.”

“Why?”

“Because, duh, we don’t need boneheads taking up space. Dontcha see?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’ve never been more serious. Think about it. We gotta weed them out.”

“Hmm.”

“A bonehead-free world. Gotta be good for society.”

“But Mrs. Katterhenry said . . .”

“Ask Mrs. Katterhenry about her little bottle of Prozac.”

“What?”

“Okay, listen. What is more American than the stars-n-stripes and freedom of conscience?”

“True . . .”

“So do you mean to stand there and tell me that Lila Katterhenry is a tree-hugging liberal who wants to burn the flag and make us all join the Unitarian church?”

“Um . . .”

“All right then. As a true American, she will know that our very freedom hangs in the balance here. If they take away a bonehead’s right to fry his brain and die, the next thing they’ll take is our guns and our bibles.”

“Okay. . . . So a bonehead should be allowed to do drugs if he wants to?”

“It thins the herd, my friend.”

“Should that be one of my sentences?”

“Just say Yes, Mrs. Katterhenry.”

For her part, as she grew, Molly proved to be a natural subversive, a trickster, and a thespian. She found in Rhinehart not only a mentor in mischief but a kindred spirit. And, in time, a favorite target, as well.

“Grandma Claire, what does ‘B.S.’ stand for? I learned it yesterday, but I forget now.”

“Language, please! That word should never be on the lips of a fourth-grade girl, Molly. Why, I wouldn’t have in my hand what you just had in your mouth.”

“Really? Because . . . um, well, never mind.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“Who’s that, Molly? Is it that boy at school? Danny?”

“No.”

“Who did you learn it from?”

“Please, Grandma Claire. I don’t want to say.”

“Molly . . .”

“I’m afraid you won’t let him drive me to school anymore . . . oops.”

“Rhinehart!!”

Chapter Nine