Wonderkid by Wesley Stace

Author:Wesley Stace [STACE, WESLEY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000; FIC016000; FIC019000
ISBN: 9781468309829
Publisher: Overlook
Published: 2014-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

Fearing a lesson the next morning, I made a halfhearted attempt to avoid Mitchell, but he invited me to sit at his desk.

“Everything good?” he asked, absentmindedly shuffling papers.

“Sure.”

“You’re all my children, you know,” he said. “I have no favorites, and I just like to know that all my children are happy.”

“Very happy,” I said, getting up. He took hold of my wrist firmly.

“Good,” he smiled. “Because sometimes you need a Dad who you actually get to call Dad.” My impulse was to shake him off. At this precise moment, Blake yelled my name from the back. Mitchell let go, rather theatrically, raised both eyebrows and, with a little bow, ushered me beyond into the bowels of the bus: “Here when you need me,” he said. “At your cervix.”

I had a mind to tell Blake, but that would require over-explanation. And anyway, maybe Mitchell was just doing his job. Still, my wrist smarted like he’d given me an Indian burn.

By the time I had traveled the short distance down the corridor, Blake was already off on a classic tangent: “Listen to this! Listen to this! It’s from Alice. ‘“Here, you may nurse it a bit if you like!” The Duchess said to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke,’ . . . blah blah . . . ‘Alice caught the baby with some difficulty.’ How about . . . now how about . . . and picture this . . . tell me what you think . . . Middle of our show: a little toddler comes on, dressed to specification, walks towards me and goes behind the dressing-up box, and while he’s hidden behind there (unbeknownst to the audience) . . . I pick up a replica toddler, a doll, and fling it out into the audience. And they either catch it or they don’t, but everyone screams. Great, right?”

I looked at him in awe. “Are you serious?”

That he was seemed to be confirmed by the fact that he immediately burst out laughing. “Quack!” And I started laughing too. In fact, I laughed so hard I collapsed on the other bench.

“Chicken DAT!” he yelled. “Chicken fucking DAT!”

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