When my cousin Ginger came to stay with us I can't say I was too happy about it at first, she was a spoilt obnoxious brat when she was a kid and as an 18 year old she didn't seemed to have improved much, in fact if anything, she had got worse.
Ginger thought the world revolved around her, her parents fault really, they had spoilt her rotten and they realised it far too late.
It was in desperation that they turned to my father, asking him to help them with Ginger because they didn't know who else could help them.
Ginger was rude, obnoxious, stayed out all hours, was probably having sex with God knows who and didn't know the meaning of money or helping around the house and as for her manners, she hadn't said please or thank you for years.
My Dad is an easy going man, he married young and was widowed young, I'm his only son, I'm 20 now, and I was born when he was 18 so he is only 38, we are more like brothers than father and son, his fair hair hasn't even turned grey, only the crinkles around his deep blue eyes give away his real age.
We're both fit in body, tanned and well muscled, him because he is running a small farm single handed, me because I am a Deputy Sheriff in town.
Ginger was my cousin on my mom's side, her father was my mom's older brother and even after mom's death, they kept in touch with us, which was nice except for their obnoxious offspring, Ginger Snaps as her parents affectionately called her or Ginger Bitch as I termed her after one visit in which she threw temper tantrum after temper tantrum if she didn't get her own way.
I knew my Dad didn't like her much, I could tell though he didn't say anything, his in-laws adored their only child, and he was fond enough of them not to say anything that might offend.
When Mike his brother-in-law phoned him that fateful day I was drinking my coffee at the breakfast table in the kitchen and I heard only side of the conversation but I pretty much got the gist of it.
Mike wanted my Dad to help him with Ginger, he was desperate, the girl was going off the rails and she was just 18 and it wouldn't be long before she into serious trouble with the law because she was drinking whilst underage and had probably dabbled with some drugs, though he was not sure.
I heard my father give some advice and then I heard him say in that curiously odd voice that means he has something up his sleeve other than his arm.
"Okay Mike, she can come here to stay, but I deal with her my way, you and Becky leave her with me for a month and I can pretty much guarantee you will have a changed daughter when she comes home."
I remember thinking that he was making a pretty tall promise but then I remembered that my Dad never made promises he couldn't keep.
He turned at that moment and our eyes met, blue onto blue, and he smiled at me.
I knew then that Ginger was going to be in for rough time but I didn't feel sorry for her, she had reaped what she had sewn and if I knew my Dad it would interesting to see how he "broke" her in, my father might be conventional in a lot of ways but in others he is quite imaginative.
As you can imagine Ginger was not happy to come to stay at our remote farm for a whole month in summer. Not she the spoilt little city girl who had the world at her fingertips but was too selfish and self centred to realise it.
Also she had been made to leave her cell phone at home, had her allowance cut off for a month (my Dad had stipulated this) and was told if she didn't go and stay with her Uncle Dutch for a month, she'd loose her European holiday that her parents had planned for her next year.
It was one pissed individual we picked up from the Greyhound station. My father had also made his brother-in-law send her the cheapest and most uncomfortable way possible to our farm, so she was hot sticky and resentful when she finally arrived.
I had taken a couple of weeks off work to see how my father was going to deal with Ginger Bitch.
I wasn't sure if he could manage her but I changed my mind within twenty minutes of us being in the truck heading for the farm.
Ginger had barely said hello to us and neither of us had offered to help carry her suitcase to the car, I would have done as I have been bought up to have good manners but Dad told me I wasn't too, she had to carry it herself to the truck which pissed her sorely too.
She was red faced, smelt of sweat and smoke but she was still as pretty as a picture despite this, at 18 she was a tall, slender girl, with a pair of large firm breasts that she obviously took pride in along with long red curly hair, freckles galore, a round face, bright green eyes and a large accommodating mouth.
She glared at me and my father as she climbed into the truck, she said nothing at first but Dad said nothing either.
He didn't even greet her in fact, just motioned her to follow us to the truck. I said nothing either, once again my father's instructions.
I think this took her a bit by surprise, her parents had warned her that Uncle Dutch wouldn't be as nice as they were, but he had said nothing nasty to her.
She sat next to him in the truck and I was on the other side of her, wondering what was going to happen next.
Like I said it happened twenty minutes into the journey, when the silence got too much for her she said in a peevish voice.
"I didn't want to come here!"
"We didn't want you here either," my father's voice was direct and clear and I almost laughed though I kept a straight face.
She was outraged by his reply.
"Well I don't want to fucking stay at some shitty farm with two hicks who can't even talk properly!"
She didn't expect my father to slap her in the mouth, he did it without taking his eyes off the road, slapped her mouth so hard her head jerked back and her upper lip began to swell.
I don't know who was more shocked, me or Ginger.
"Dad," I heard myself say but my father's voice was hard as he said.
"Keep out of it Rusty, or do you want one yourself?"
It was not an idle threat, I grimaced, I might be 20 years old and a police officer but even I wouldn't take on my Dad.
"You hit me." Ginger's voice was filled with shock, she was too shocked to cry right at that moment and my father smiled then.
"Yes I did," he said as we bumped down the road the long stretch of road that would eventually lead to the farm and Ginger's home for the next four weeks, "And if you speak like you did just a moment ago, I'll do it again, only I'll use a belt instead, and wrap it around your lily white city ass."
"I'll tell my Dad," tears began to fill her large green eyes and I almost felt sorry for her but I kept my face neutral, my father loved me dearly but if I interfered, I'd rue it and we both knew that.