Owen Hall’s silent rage steamed hotter than the mashed
potatoes and gravy he was eating for supper. Delicious food, though right in
front of him, was the last thing on his racing mind. Sitting across from him at
the dinner table was his wife Valerie and his daughter Leila. Both ladies
smiled arrogantly at Owen while the father’s expression was dripping with
ogre-like hatred. “Come on, old man, smile and make people wonder about you!”
said Leila with a mockingly saccharine tone. Owen’s mouth curled even further
downward as he tried to eat his dinner.
“Did you do your homework tonight?” asked Owen with
disturbing calmness.
“I’ll do it after America’s Next Top Model is over,”
said Leila. Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket and she immediately went
into text-messaging mode. Her eyes never left the screen even after Owen waved
his meaty hand over her face.
“Relax, Owen,” said Valerie with her hand on his shoulder.
“She’s a teenager. You know how they are. I’ll bet you anything you were like
that at her age.”
Owen cracked his thick neck on both sides and said, “I
wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Of course you don’t, because you’re an old fart,” said
Leila while her thumbs continued to dance around her smart phone’s screen. The
sharp jab got a small giggle from Valerie.
Owen shook his head and put his fork down to address his
daughter. His muscular hands formed a steeple underneath his hairy chin as he
said, “You know, Leila. I got a call from the school today. They said you
haven’t been keeping up with your homework. In fact, it’s pretty much the same
song and dance for the last few weeks. Whenever the school has a problem with
you, they always phone me and I get the blame for it.”
“Honey, eat your potatoes and we’ll talk about this some
more after dinner,” said Valerie as she patted her manicured hand across her
husband’s sausage fingers.
“I don’t want to talk about it later,” said Owen. “I want to
talk about it now. If we don’t talk about it now, we’ll never talk about it
again. You keep saying we’ll have all of these chances and those chances are
always squandered. Put the fucking phone down!” The last sentence directed at
Leila had some extra bite to it.
Instead of honoring her father’s wishes, Leila mocked his
words with a semi-retarded voice and kept texting. Valerie smiled at Owen and
said, “Come on, it’s not like this is the end of the world. She’ll figure it
out soon enough.”
“No, she won’t!” snapped Owen as he stood up, garnering
Leila’s attention at last. “She’s going to keep fucking up and nothing’s going
to get done! What about college?! What about a job?! Does she not care about
these things?! Last time I checked, sitting on your lazy ass watching TV isn’t
exactly a nine-to-fiver!”
“Dude! Chill!” said Leila. “You don’t have to bite my head
off! School’s been really hard lately!”
“School is supposed to be hard, you dumb shit!” barked Owen.
“That’s how you grow and develop as a human being! If everything was easy,
there’d be no fucking point!”
Valerie shot up from her chair and pointed at her husband
while shouting, “Owen, sit down and eat your food! You’re acting like an old
bastard!”
Owen took off his glasses and rolled up his flannel shirt
sleeves. “No, Valerie, you’re wrong. That’s not what an old bastard acts like.
This is.” With no trace of high voltage anger in his voice, Owen took off his
leather belt and slowly walked around the table to Leila’s side of the table.
Both wife and daughter looked up at him with wide, horrified eyes while Leila
kept asking him what he was doing with a stutter.
The towering father grabbed Leila by the hair and slammed
her torso against the table, not caring if the violent act got food on her
T-shirt. Both ladies screamed like they were trapped in a real-life horror
movie while Owen smacked his leather belt across Leila’s ass five times, each
strike more sadistic and louder than the last. Both women collapsed to the
floor and hugged each other while sobbing and screaming simultaneously. Leila
could only bury her face in her mother’s chest while the mother looked up at
Owen with puppy-dog eyes, asking, “Why?” over and over again in a whispery
voice.
“I’ll tell you why, Valerie,” said Owen with trembling
jowls. “I’m tired of being the bad guy at this dinner table. I’m tired of being
the principal’s scapegoat when this whole shit storm is clearly my daughter’s
fault. I’m tired of being disrespected. I’m tired of being walked on. And to
think, this is Leila’s first belt whipping and she got to experience it at age
fourteen. Too little too late. She’s grown up to be a bigger super-bitch than
her mother.”
Leila pulled her face out of her mother’s hug and tearfully
mouthed the words to her dad, “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
Owen slowly crouched down beside his daughter, placed his
free hand on her convulsing shoulder, and quietly said, “That’s okay, darling.
I hate you too. I hate you so much that I want to get the fuck out of this
place as soon as I can. That belt spanking wasn’t out of discipline or even
love. It was out of rage. It was out of a whole decade of disrespect and
nothing being done about it. I’m done with you, Leila. I’m done with your
mother. She better hire a good divorce lawyer, because I’ll be doing the same.
Don’t expect a huge custody battle, little girl. Not even that creep Roy Moore
will want you after all of this.”
Owen stood back up and his tree trunk knees popped like
fireworks. Valerie also stood up, but brought her daughter to her feet with her
and continued to hold her in a loving and sorrowful embrace. Valerie sobbed,
“You can’t divorce me, Owen. After what you did tonight, I’ll take you for
everything you’re worth!”
“Funny you mention that,” said Owen. “Because you probably
will make more money off of my child support payments than you will busting
your ass at a real job. Same goes for you, Leila. You’re both a bunch of
losers. If you’re this disrespectful to me, what makes you think you’re going
to be any better to your bosses? Oh, did I say bosses? I meant johns and
pimps.”
“How can you say these things to your own family, Dad?”
cried Leila. She could wipe her tears and comfort her sore buttocks all she
wanted, but the sorrow continued to be painfully obvious.
“Family? What family?” said Owen with shrugged shoulders. “I
don’t see a family in front of me. Just because you’ve got my DNA, doesn’t mean
you’re anything more to me than a couple of bloodsucking leeches. The ride’s
over. I’d tell you both to get your shit together, but you’re not even capable
of getting that right, let alone an answer on a fucking math test.” The hulking
father turned around and lumbered to his bedroom looking for a suitcase and
some clothes.
“I’m sorry, Dad!” pleaded Leila while on her knees. “I’m
sorry! I’ll do better in school! I’ll get a good job! Please, don’t leave us!”
“You’re too late for redemption, honey,” said Owen as he
nonchalantly packed clothing into his suitcase and rolled it out to the
kitchen. “It’s not my job to save you anymore. You can be someone else’s
problem now.” He pointed at Valerie and said, “And you! You’ll be hearing from my
lawyer first thing in the morning. Enjoy your dinner. I’m going to get a real
meal at McDonald’s.” He waved goodbye and proceeded towards the front door with
his suitcase in tow.
“Goddamn you, Dad!” shouted Leila as she picked up her
dinner plate and threw it across the kitchen at Owen, who ducked down in the
nick of time. The plate shattered and the mashed potatoes oozed down the
kitchen wall.
But instead of white hot rage, Owen smiled for the first
time in forever and said, “Thanks for giving my lawyer more talking points in
court. Maybe your mother will start paying ME alimony instead. Bye-bye!” He
waved again and stepped outside to the sounds of screaming teenagers and
sobbing wives.
The chilly night air felt heavenly on Owen’s skin. The air
tasted sweeter than anything on his dinner plate. A singular tear traveled down
his husky cheek. He may have weighed well over three hundred pounds, but he
felt lighter than a feather. He wasn’t going to just get away from this prison
of a home. He was going to fly away like a caged bird.
There was a small moment where he questioned his need for
spanking Leila with a belt. But as the screams and screeches from inside grew
less tolerable, he shrugged his shoulders and rolled his suitcase out to the
family SUV. He figured even sleeping in the back seat would be more comfortable
than any fluffy mattress shared with his soon to be ex-wife.
