#c137th

(Beth mentions floopy doopy land)

*drops glass*

                          am i evil?                                                         worse. you’re smart.

you don't support this family! all you care about is yourself! you've got two children being dragged across the cosmos by your dangerously ill father, and you force me to watch it happen because you'd rather lose them and lose me than lose him!

nonsexual acts of intimacy.

         silence permeates through the room once she’s done playing ,  plastic boats and ducks discarded among the white foam ,  looking so much like the snow she won’t have to wait much longer to see again .  she’s boisterous ,  even for a girl only a few short weeks into first grade ,  but she’s still amicably settled into the quiet ,  turned warm ,  heavy and tired by the bathwater .  and by her father’s hands ;  volunteered for the duty of washing her hair on this particular monday afternoon .  a task that’s nearly complete .  she doesn’t normally need anyone to wash her hair for her ,  these days .  too big .  she also doesn’t normally get blood in her hair .

         she traces the porcelain of the opposite side of the tub with a slow finger ,  draws nonsensical shapes in the foam there .  “  i’m sorry ,  daddy .  “  she offers ,  hesitant ,  soft .  tone offbeat with the secret her young mouth’s keeping hidden ,  and she feels the bony fingers in her hair still .  comforting hands resting against her scalp .  the best hands .

         she’s never been in a fight before .  beth’s always so well - behaved .  but big kid school is different ,  first grade kids are very different .  mean .  none of it had been her dad’s fault .  he’d been nervous on her first day ,  weeks ago now ,  that’s what she thinks ,  because that’s what she was .  had smelled like his bottle ,  had swayed and nearly tripped when he held on to her too long and too tight when it was time for her to go .  she hadn’t wanted to ,  either .  had cried when she found her seat .  she understands ;  starting first grade is really hard .  other kids don’t get it ,  though .  other kids aren’t like her .  so her dad’s said ,  and he’s the smartest there is ,  so it must be true .  other kids ,  not all ,  but enough ,  think her dad’s weird .  she didn’t realize that until today ;  her mistake ,  one she won’t repeat .

         the biggest boy in class had walked up to her at recess ,  had answered her greeting with an ugly ,  pathetic grimace and sputtered d - d - don’t g - go ,  b - beth and it had felt like the bath does now ,  only cold .  it had taken her a moment to even understand .  to process that anyone ,  ever ,  could disrespect her father .  then she’d launched herself at him ,  element of surprise allowing her to knock him over ,  and she’d laced her delicate fingers together into one mighty fist and struck down with all the strength in her nearly seven year old body .  more than once ,  hard and vicious enough to bloody the mouth and the nose before an adult had pulled her off .  she hadn’t said a word ,  though she’d spat and kicked at the boy .  hadn’t said a word until her father had collected her .  somewhere in that silence ,  she decided she’d never ,  ever tell him what the boy had done ;  it was too awful ,  too cruel .  enough to break her little heart and sting her eyes with tears ,  even now ,  hours later .

         she still doesn’t know how the blood got in her hair .  “  i’m sorry .  “  she offers again ,  and it’s not the fighting she’s sorry about .  “  not supposed to hit people .  “  she mumbles in addition ,  bare shoulders wilting ,  and maybe she does feel a little bad ;  it’s her mother’s words she’s reciting ,  and she is supposed to listen to those .  wanting to be heard ,  afraid of being scolded ,  she raises a hand to place it atop one of the much larger ones still covering her head .

         “  d - don’t worry about it ,  sweetie .  “  comes from above ,  comforting and absolving ,  and she thinks that she’ll never understand them ,  any of the kids that laughed at the poor imitation of her father’s voice until she lunged .  she’s suddenly glad to be done ,  glad to finish bath time ;  wants to get dressed and make him hold her ,  snuggle herself close to the chest that voice comes from .  “  little ass - asshole probably had it c - coming .  “

         he showers her in water one last time ,  a quick sneaky gush from the shower head that makes her squeal with laughter ,  before she’s to stand and the tub is to be drained .  soon enough the world’s disappeared on the other side of a large white towel .  he shakes her head as he dries it ,  tells her this is it ,  this is what going in a spaceship is like ,  sweetie !  until she howls with delight .  when she emerges ,  ruffled ,  she accepts the old flesh curtains shirt ,  turned nightgown on her ,  without question ;  familiar fabric with familiar dad smells .  warm socks ,  too .  he picks her up then ,  lets her put her head against his cheek even with her still - damp hair ,  and she’s sure she did the right thing .

         “  beth  ?  “

         “  mm .  “  she murmurs ,  barely .  feeling the ache in her hands now ,  the exhaustion in the arms wrapped around his neck .

         “  no witnesses next time ,  a - alright ?  i can’t …  don’t want another call from y - your principal .  “