Don't Get Mad, Get Even by Barb Goffman

Author:Barb Goffman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, short stories, detective, crime, murder
ISBN: 9781434443922
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2013-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES

“We discussed prostitution, adultery, and drug use in school today,” I announced at dinner. “Did you know they’re victimless crimes?”

My mother nearly choked on her green beans. “You what?”

“It was all Andy Telwacht’s fault. He and Robbie Winters did their oral debate in Social Studies on marijuana. Robbie called it a gateway drug and said people should go to jail for a long time for using it. Then Andy said that smoking pot didn’t hurt anyone, and it should be legal here in Illinois just like it is in Europe!”

Dad’s eyes bugged out while Mom’s face turned a deep red. Boy, I loved to get them going.

“You know how Mr. Carracio always tells us to ‘think for ourselves,’” I went on. “So we got into this big debate about whether marijuana is dangerous. Bonnie Kingman said it’s not, that it’s just like prostitution and adultery. If everyone’s a consenting adult, what’s the problem? I kind of think she’s right.”

Mom slapped the table top so hard, my plate of chicken bounced. “This is what we get for spending our hard-earned money on that fancy private school.”

She scowled and wagged her finger at me. “You listen to me, Cara. Drug use, prostitution, and adultery are not victimless crimes. People get hurt in ways you can’t even begin to fathom when you’re fourteen years old. If you even think about doing drugs and I find out about it—and believe me, I will—you will rue the day.”

I rolled my eyes. Rue the day. Mom was so melodramatic.

* * * *

An hour later, Dad poked his head in my room. His curly brown hair fell across his forehead, covering his eyebrows. He looked so dorky. I tugged off my iPod earbuds.

“Mom and I are going to the supermarket,” he said. “She wants ice cream. I’ll turn on the alarm on the way out.”

“Okay,” I said. “See you later.”

I tried to play it cool, but I was psyched. Now I could ditch my algebra homework for something far more important: searching for my Christmas presents. Ten days till Christmas. No way I could wait that long to see what this year’s haul would be. Over the last week, I’d hunted around the house for my gifts. I’d only found one: a black and gray Dooney & Bourke wristlet buried in a Tupperware container. Mom’s been real sneaky about hiding my presents since fifth grade, when she caught me searching for them. Boy, had she yelled that day.

“Cara Beth Holloway, what do you think you’re doing?”

I was elbow-deep in her underwear drawer. What did she think I was doing?

“You get out of this room right now, young lady. Snooping can be dangerous business.”

Yeah, right. I couldn’t imagine what I might possibly discover that would be dangerous. My parents simply weren’t that interesting.

Now, with them out for probably an hour, I concentrated my search on their bedroom. Every nook and cranny had to be systematically examined. Mom’s stealth knew no bounds.

Unfortunately, after a half hour, I still hadn’t found anything meant for me.

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