Honey I'm home! Part one.
Copyright Catcher78 all rights reserved.
Everyone getting fucked in this mostly fictional story is eighteen or over.
I turned eighteen June before the start of my Junior year, prolly should have graduated last spring, but Daddy and my mother held me back and then I struggled with reading and all in the first grade and they held me back. Turns out I was dyslexic which meant I jumbled up the letters in my head and it was confusing for me. I'm Kerri Ericksen.
I walked home from school about three blocks. I'd bring home the notes from Miss Moran the teacher about how badly I was doing, she'd sit me in the corner with four boys from the orphanage which was two blocks from Coe Elementary.
The boys didn't wash much, once a week if I was guessing, maybe there was not much soap to go around. They were older. I mean I was seven, but they were nine or ten in the first grade, Robert Nash and Jimmy Grant. They mostly stared out the windows.
Robert would say hi back when I said hi to him, polite like. Jimmy had lice and they crawled out of his shirt sleeves and I saw them on his crew cut hair. One Monday he was gone. I asked Miss Moran where he was and she told me to mind my own business.
I came home after school, it was a nice fall day and the front door was open, the wood one, we had a wood screen door with mesh to let air in but no flies up top. The door had this black piece of rubber connecting the door jam to the screen door so it would automatically close.
I slipped in and slowly let the screen door nest without making noise. Mother was on the phone with one of those wall mounted phones with the long cord, which allowed her to walk around the kitchen. She was wearing a cotton dress with green pumps and there was a white apron that was just below her massive chest. As always she had a cigarette between her very red lips, which left the cigarette filter covered with lipstick and had a cup of coffee that she somehow held, keeping the cigarette between her middle and forefinger, while drinking the coffee.
I was being as still as possible, she was talking with one of her bridge friends and giggling. She never laughed in those days, let alone giggled.
She said, "He's incredible, as big as a horse, he picks me up, " and she went on, "up against the wall."
"Three times this week and it's Wednesday and Bill is going to take the boys fishing Saturday and Sunday. I have to figure out something to do with Kerri this weekend, my mom maybe. Bill's not said a thing, her hair is almost platinum. Once a week, I sit on his face and suck him off. I don't want to break up the family, this is perfect."
She hung up the phone and I snuck upstairs. I hid under an old army surplus sleeping bag on the far side of the bed. Listening for her coming upstairs, cause if she found me there would be bad times, she kept switches off the plum tree to whip me when she felt like I needed it. I was seven then.
She did come up and looked around and I took baby breaths not to be heard through my nose. From my two older brothers talking I knew that sleeping around meant someone besides Daddy. I was thinking that my platinum hair meant really bad things.
Bill Jr. and John were playing ball for the high school. Football for the Grizzlies. Bill was six foot four and well over two hundred pounds and he'd had red hair and freckles, but now his face was starkly white and his hair was very dark brown. Lee had tight kinky brown hair and he was five foot ten and weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. He was slow and small and oh so very angry. If I said anything to anyone it would be Bill Jr.
Bill and Lee were both gone and married when I turned eighteen. I had turned into a pretty good student once the reading thing got figured out, the special needs teacher was so sweet and kind to me and it was really a joyful period of discovery for me.
I still had the platinum hair and blue eyes and Mom was still carrying on. I was a pretty good track performer. Multiple events, cross country, long jump and the high jump. Cross country was in the fall and the jumping stuff in the spring. The jumping workouts were easy and my focus was on technique and in some ways similar almost eighty percent about the approach and twenty percent sticking the finish. I also really was emphasizing my flexibility, stretching and yoga. Some warmup running depending on how cold it was really, eight hundred meters to sixteen hundred meters (two to four laps) depending on if was warm, windy or raining. Spring in Seattle.
Cross country, five thousand meters was in the fall. This was probably my strength, as I was six foot one. My body shape was like I had the legs for somebody who was six foot three, so my stride was out of this world for a high school girl. I worked at it too.
In July after my eighteenth birthday, I had returned from a distance camp run by the University of Oregon for teenagers that might be special. It's basically a spoofed recruiting event. I obliterated the five thousand meter record which was fifteen minutes twenty five seconds by running a fifteen minutes and seven seconds, handheld not allowable for a record, but I had run it. Everyone behind me was fifteen forty or worse.
My strategy was get out and in front with my stride, there were other famous women's runners from the Seattle area that were huge at ten thousand meters, which might be my place ultimately. I thought Eugene was an arm pit of a place and campus. Nice training facilities. I was approached by a representative for a large Oregon shoe company saying that my family would get three hundred thousand dollars if I went to Oregon. I needed to talk with my parents, especially Daddy.
Without the money, I thought UCLA, University of San Diego and then Cal State Long Beach.
I rode back with my running coach, Mrs. Brown who'd actually run in the Olympics, but she was in remission from cancer treatment and had shrunk into herself. Her voice was firm though. She would say Kerri, listen to me, you must be strong in all things, your mind and body. You like to train, which is eighty percent of what is going on from now on. Stick to it, but eat right and hydrate and eat good stuff, okay?"
"Mrs. Brown?"
"Yes?"
"Well, my homelife is not very good. I gave the nutritional stuff you gave to my mother. She said to me, Go tell Mrs. God-fucking Brown to buy the fucking God damn food and cook it for you. Food's ready at five fifteen. You're never here then, so I give it to the dog."
