Friday Night Lights

Kristin lingered across the hall pretending to read her phone waiting for the bathroom to clear. She was using the girl’s down by the shops which was usually empty. It was Friday so she was in avoidance mode. The standard harsh light inside was overwhelmed by the morning sun flooding through the  frosted windows. The girl in the mirror looked positively garish. The chestnut brown hair was still there-the red highlights especially stunning but pointless now. She looked closely into the brown eyes above the smattering of freckles. Not too bloodshot. Drops would help. She pulled them from her bag and threw her head back, not being able to resist the head shake that was a part of the dance routine that the rest of the majorettes would be doing at the game tonight. She should be out in front-just left of center-high stepping as the stadium lights glinted off the red in her hair, the color chosen to match the tunic she would never wear again. 

Among certain circles, Kristin Kelly being kicked out of the majorettes was THE news of the football season. A senior, five-eight, and leggy, she had been a majorette for four years. She would have been captain, too. She wasn’t a big time pothead. Just a little now and then to “even things out”. Sure it sounded stupid, but that’s what she’d said. Then to have been caught with a joint in school and everything changed.

“What were you thinking?” Her mother had shouted. Donna Kelly had been a majorette herself in high school and went to football games only for the halftime show. Not yet forty, in the right light, she could be mistaken for Kristin’s older sister. She kept herself in trim with a fanatical devotion to tennis and a three hundred dollar monthly check to a personal trainer.. 

When Kristin had come home and told her mother what had happened Donna caught herself in mid swing. Kristin flinched, shocked that her mother had almost slapped her and frightened that her hands seemed to be shaking. “To your room NOW!” Kristin scampered up the stairs two at a time. She knew what her Mom was capable of but she’d only been threatened with spankings for the last two years. Threats had been enough to keep her on the straight and narrow. Her last one had been very unpleasant. 

Kristin had no sooner flopped crying onto her bed than she heard her mother stomping upstairs then into her bedroom for a hot second, then stomping down the hall and bursting into Kristin’s room. A bad sign; her mother was a knocker-protective of her daughter’s privacy. Not today. She had one hand on the doorknob and in the other was her large hairbrush which as far as Kristin knew only had one function. 

“No, Mom…Please!”

“Turn over!”

Seeing the fire in her mother’s eyes she hesitated only a moment before rolling onto her belly. There was a long pause.

“Are you going to do it or should I?”

“Mom…” It was essentially the same question  she had asked two years before. “You or I?” , she repeated. Then, as a recalcitrant fifteen year old, she had stubbornly held her tongue having Donna yank down her pajama bottoms-scratching her leg with a nail in the process- and pull her over her lap so the hairbrush could do it’s work. 

This time, careful not to say or do anything that would further inflame her mother, Kristin reached under and unbuttoned her khakis. Then, lifting, pushed them and her underwear down almost to her knees. She pulled her pillow tight to her face. At least she wasn’t making her lay over her lap which would have been humiliating.  Kristin recalled thinking once that if her mother did follow through and actually spank her as a fully grown seventeen year old, it would be more embarrassing than painful. She was wrong.

The first swat Donna landed was loud and solid-ringing up her arm to the shoulder. Kristin cried out loudly and of course her mother was torn between, “Jesus! That HAD to hurt” and “GOOD! That really hurt!” 

After a dozen solid smacks, Donna took note of the bright red backside and heaving shoulders and her eyes stung unexpectedly. She called the punishment over and sat gently on the bed. The pillow under Kristin’s face was wet with tears of frustration, shame and hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Mommy” She  sobbed into the pillow. 

“I am too honey.” said Donna, sitting beside her daughter in a strangely tender moment.  “I’m sorry about this” she gingerly patted Kristin’s hot bottom.  I was just so mad and disappointed for you as well as in you. I thought I had to do something.”

“It’s alright Mom. I deserved it.”

“Maybe if I’d have done it before…instead of just threatening”

“Not your fault…”

“We’ll just have to find something else to do on Friday nights.”

“Not this, OK?” Kristen said with a smirk into the pillow. 

“Well, that will be up to you, young lady”, she scoffed, happy to lighten the mood. She squeezed her daughter’s ankle and got up. “This was hard work. I’m going down stairs to have a drink. Feel free to join me when you pull yourself together.”

Continued…The Devil Finds Work for Idle Hands

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