DO GEESE SEE GOD by Todd Hearon

Author:Todd Hearon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daniel Falatko
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

The man bending over the clogged pool pump was troubled. The girl who had come to lay out in the sun by the poolside while he worked had removed her top. He was struggling not to appear to notice; it was important to him, given the situation, that he not appear to notice. But the girl was watching him closely, he could feel it, behind her oversized sunglasses. She had begun to appear each week now as he worked, to watch him closely. Some weeks she sat on the pool ledge, dangling her legs into the water, her legs that were spread a little too widely not to invite notice, reading a paperback novel, though he could feel it then, too, she was watching him closely. She hadn’t moved as he’d brushed by her with the net; she just sat there, silently, apparently, engrossed. He’d had to work the net around and over her.

But now she lay on the poolside, far enough away from the edge that if he needed to step around to the side near where she lay, to work, he could, without . . . involving her? (But she was already involved.) Confronting her? Engaging her? He wasn’t sure what the word, but he knew it was very important, given the delicacy of the situation, that he not allow himself to appear to be doing any of those things.

But this was his pool, after all. There needed to be some rules. You couldn’t just let it all hang out and go back to Woodstock whenever you wanted, could you? But he knew the girl enough (she’d lived with them for five years now) to know that the last thing you wanted with her, with this girl, in this kind of situation, would be to act as if there were some kind of problem with this kind of behavior. Which would give her the advantage, the upper hand. He could picture her reaction: Could you please put that back on, he’d ask, and she’d appear to be indignant or confused. Why, she’d say. It doesn’t turn you on, does it? Aren’t you supposed to be my “father?”

She was always doing things like that. Provoking him. Messing with his head. Leaving the door wide open while she was taking a shower. Sitting at the kitchen counter eating an apple, barely clad. None of the other girls had ever done anything like that. Certainly none of them had left him notes. I want your rocket cock so high inside me I can taste it. That wasn’t fair. That just wasn’t fair at all. Even if it was written in her journal, she’d intentionally left it open for him to find.

As now it wasn’t fair: how she had made this her Sunday afternoon routine, coming to lay out by the pool while he worked while his wife was away at Bible study. Did she think he didn’t know? Did she think he didn’t see it? The whole scheme was perfectly, transparently clear.

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