Enough About Me
~ A Short Story by Allen Kopp ~

Mrs. Doris “Dodie” Cunningham sat alone in her darkened house in a cloud of cigarette smoke. It was a summer day, late in July. She was aware of some unusual sounds in the back yard and she didn’t know what it was. Oh, yes, she remembered now. Little Leland was having some friends over. They were playing a game or something, as children do, with all the requisite screaming.

After a half-hour or so the sounds ceased suddenly, so she went to the back door and opened it to make sure the children weren’t getting themselves into any mischief or hurting each other. After all, she was the mother and she was supposed to keep the little brats in line.

Opening the door revealed a small boy sitting hunched over on her back steps. He had short brown hair and wore a striped shirt. When she stepped out the back door, he turned around and looked at her.

“Hello,” she said. “Do I know you?”

The boy shook his head and looked away.

“Well, since I don’t know you, I might ask you why you’re sitting there on my back steps.”

“We were playing but they left,” he said.

“Who left?”

“Leland and Jonathan.”

“Well, I know who Leland is since he lives here, but I don’t know who Jonathan is.

“He’s just a smart-aleck kid.”

“So, the three of you were playing and in the middle of it Leland and Jonathan left. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Where did they go?”

“I don’t know. They played a trick on me. They told me to hide my eyes and when I did they ran off and didn’t come back.”

“That wasn’t very nice, was it?”

“No.”

“Little Leland invited you and this Jonathan kid over to play and then Leland and Jonathan abandoned you?”

“I don’t mind.”

“It would be my guess that you don’t like Little Leland very much.”

“You’re right. He’s an asshole.”

“You have this feeling way down deep in your interior parts that he’s not to be trusted.”

“How did you know?”

“What about Jonathan?”

“He’s even worse.”

“Why do you play with them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know that many people.”

She flipped her cigarette over the porch railing. “Can’t you just go on home? I mean, instead of waiting for those two little shits to come back?”

“My mother told me to stay here until three o’clock. She’s coming to pick me up then.”

“Can’t you walk home?”

“It’s too far and I’m not sure if I remember the way. I’d get lost and then my mother would be upset with me.”

“You’re new in town, I take it.”

“Yeah.”

“I can drive you home if you’d like.”

“No, that’s all right. That would only confuse my mother.”

“Well, you might as well come in, then. You can’t sit out there in this awful heat until three o’clock.”

She led him into the living room and pointed to the couch where he might sit.

“Would you like me to call your mother for you and tell her she needs to come a little earlier than planned?”

“No, she’s not at home. She had an appointment.”

“Oh, I see.”

Realizing the room was depressingly dark for a July afternoon, she opened the blinds.

“Would you like a soda or a drink?” she asked.

“No, but I would like to use the bathroom.”

“Well, make yourself at home,” she said. “It’s through the dining room and down the hall.”

He was gone for about two minutes and when he came back his shirt was tucked neatly into his pants.

“I just realized I don’t know your name,” she said.

“It’s Ricky.”

“Richard?”

“Yeah, but everybody calls me Ricky.”

“Well, that’s a good name. I never met a Ricky I didn’t like. How old are you, Ricky?”

“Eleven.”

“You’re getting close to that dangerous in-between age.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s where you’re halfway between childhood and adulthood. You like to think of yourself as all grown up, but the adults around you keep telling you you’re still a child.”

“Oh.”

“Well, just relax,” she said. “You might as well enjoy yourself while you can. I’m not a wicked witch in spite of appearances to the contrary.”

He laughed feebly and leaned his head all the way back. “You have a pretty house.”

“Well, I like to think so.”

“It’s big.”

“Yes, it’s big. When Big Leland buys a house, he buys the biggest and the best that money can buy.”

“Who’s Big Leland?”

“He’s my husband. He’s Little Leland’s father.”

“Do you have a dog?”

“No, I don’t have a dog. I have two children and that’s enough in the way of pets. Besides Little Leland, there’s Cecelia. She’s only eight. You probably don’t know her, do you?”

“No.”

“Her character has already been formed. At her young age, you can tell exactly the kind of woman she’ll be, and it’s not a pretty picture.”

“Oh.”

“Well, now that the whole can of worms has been opened, I might as well tell you that I’m not really the mother of Little Leland and Cecelia. I’m their stepmother.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t you find that interesting?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet Little Leland never told you he had a stepmother, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. What happened to his real mother?”

“Well, the rumor is that she died, but I have reason to believe she’s hiding out someplace.”

“Why would she do that?”

“If you knew Big Leland, Little Leland and Cecelia, you’d already know the answer to that question.”

“I have a dog,” he said.

“What’s his name?”

“Skippy.”

“What kind of a dog is Skippy?”

“I think he’s part collie and part something else.”

“So he’s a big dog.”

He leaned forward and held his hand two feet from the floor. “About this big.”

“Do you let Skippy stay in the house?”

“He can come into the basement as long he leaves his fleas outside.”

“A good policy.”

“Except he doesn’t have any fleas because he wears a flea collar.”

“I’ve always liked animals,” she said. “They’re innocent and pure, whereas people are corrupt and vile.”

She leaned forward and lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in a cloud above her head. “I’m a little drunk right now,” she said. “Maybe more than a little. Your mother would probably be shocked to know that I invited you into my house while I’m drunk. Maybe we should just keep that between ourselves.”

“I don’t mind,” he said.

“You’re a good sport. I could tell that the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He watched her as she walked over to a side table and poured herself a shot of whiskey. “I’d ask you to join me, but I think we’d be a little premature on that one. Maybe when you’re older.”

“You drink whiskey?” he asked.

“Oh, my, yes!” she said. “I’m the champion whiskey drinker.”

“Does it taste good?”

“No, it tastes like crap, but I don’t drink it for the taste.”

“What do you drink it for?”

“Oh, it helps to get me through the day, I suppose. It gives me the courage I lack.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll bet your mommy doesn’t drink straight whiskey, does she?”

“I’ve never seen her if she does.”

“What about your daddy? Is he a good father?”

“I guess so.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“He’s a painter.”

“You mean landscapes and portraits and things like that?”

“No, he paints houses and sometimes he drives out into the country and paints barns.”

“Is there a lot of money in painting barns?”

“I don’t know.”

“Of course not. You wouldn’t know. When you’re eleven years old, you don’t think about things like that, do you?”

“No.”

“I’d like to be eleven again,” she said. “I’d live my life in an entirely different way. I wouldn’t marry for money. I’d go away somewhere and be an artist. That’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Some women aren’t cut out for the domestic scene. I’m one of them.”

He yawned.

“But that’s enough about me,” she said. “Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?”

“I don’t know. Watch TV and read my comics, I guess.”

“You’re a reader?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m a reader, too. When I was younger, I’d read a novel a week and I mean the good stuff too. Not cheap junk that passes for fiction nowadays. It’s good that you’re a reader. It teaches you to think and figure things out for yourself. I don’t think Big Leland has ever read a book in his life. And just try to get Little Leland or Cecelia to read a book on their own! Impossible!”

“My sister reads books from the library. Books she doesn’t have to read.”

“How old is she?”

“Thirteen.”

“Do you get along well with her?”

“Sure.”

“Any other brothers or sisters?”

“I have a brother, Harvey. He plays tricks on me and makes fun of me. He calls me names.”

“How old is Harvey?”

“Sixteen.”

“You don’t like Harvey very much, do you?”

“Not at all.”

“You’d like to punch him the face. Hurt him.”

“Yes, I would.”

“One day Harvey will get exactly what he deserves and you’ll be there to see it. One day he’ll come groveling to you because he wants something from you, and you won’t be inclined to give it to him because he wasn’t nice to you when mattered.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“When I married Big Leland and took on his two kids as my own, I knew I would live to regret it, and I have. Regretted it, I mean. I’m thankful that the first Mrs. Big Leland had sense enough to stop after two kids. She had her tubes tied after Cecelia was born, you know. Otherwise there might have been half a dozen.”

“I’m not ever having any kids,” he said.

“That’s very wise. More people in the world should adopt that attitude.”

“I want lots of animals around me.”

“Live on a farm, maybe?”

“Yeah. Out in the country.”

“Where people like Little Leland and your brother Harvey can’t do mean things to you?”

“Yeah.”

“And since we’re back on the subject of Little Leland—or at least I am—I have to warn you about him.”

“What about him?”

“You’re a smart, sensitive boy. You don’t need friends like Little Leland. He’ll never do you anything but harm. You’d be better off to have no friends at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“He will lead you astray, hurt you or cheat you.”

“Why will he do that?”

“Because that’s what he does. People like him. And when you think that he’s only a child and just getting started, it’s frightening. What will he be like when he’s a grown man? I pity anybody who falls under his spell.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re too young and innocent, but the more you associate with Little Leland the more you’ll see it.”

“I don’t know. He seems all right to me.”

“That’s how his kind always gets started. He seems all right at first so you aren’t able to see the terrible thing that’s coming. I know this because Big Leland is exactly the same way. Little Leland is a miniature version of Big Leland.”

“Why do they both have the same name?”

“Big Leland wanted an exact duplicate of himself.”

“Oh.”

“And that’s exactly what he got.”

“They’re both turds, aren’t they?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” she said. “If I had a criminal nature and wasn’t afraid of going to jail, I’d sneak into his room at night when he’s asleep and strangle him with the drapery cord.”

“Big Leland?”

“No, first I’d take care of Little Leland and then I’d go to work on Big Leland.”

“You could poison both of them. That might be better.”

“Yes, I’ve thought of that, but it would have to be a poison that can’t be traced. I don’t want, under any circumstances, to go to jail.”

“I have an uncle in jail,” he said. “He didn’t kill anybody, though. I think he stole some checks.”

“But you know what? I don’t have to kill Big Leland and his demonic offspring. I have something better than that.”

“What is it?”

“Do you know what an embezzler is?”

“No.”

“It’s a person who systematically steals money from his employer. Small amounts, to be sure, but over time the small amounts turn into big ones.”

“Oh.”

“Big Leland is an embezzler. In the last three or four years, he has embezzled a half-million dollars from his employer.”

“And he doesn’t want anybody to know?”

“That’s right, he doesn’t want anybody to know, but soon the whole world will know because I’m going to tell them! I have the phone number for the FBI right beside my phone!”

“Won’t Big Leland be mad if you tell?”

“Of course he’ll be mad, but by the time he finds out he’ll be locked up in the hoosegow!”

“What’s that?”

“You are young, aren’t you? It’s the jailhouse.”

“Oh.”

“And when Big Leland goes to jail, Little Leland and Cecelia will come crashing down, too. They will  no longer have the life of privilege and ease that they have now. Little Leland will go to military school and Cecelia will go into the convent. And not only that, but they will both have to live with the stigma of having a convicted embezzler for a father.”

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?”

“I think I heard my mother’s car horn.”

“I didn’t hear anything.

When the horn sounded again, they both stood up. She went to the front door and opened it and looked out.

“What kind of car does your mother have?” she asked.

“A black station wagon with red trim.”

“Well, this is her, then.”

“Would you like a drink of water before you go?”

“No thanks.”

“I’ve enjoyed our little talk. Will you come and see me again?”

“I guess so, if you want me to.”

He was ready to go out the door when she surprised him by taking his hand and shaking it.

“Tell your mother she’s a very lucky woman.”

“Why is she lucky?”

“To have you for a son.”

“I don’t think she would agree.”

She watched him go out and get into the station wagon with a blonde-haired woman and then she closed the door and locked it.

It was only a few minutes after three o’clock. There were still several hours of summer daylight before the nighttime drinking could begin. She emptied her old bottle and opened a new one and took a small sip straight from the bottle. In a little while she’d go into the kitchen and make a pitcher of martinis.

Copyright 2023 by Allen Kopp