Visiting Hours

• Jessica Kraak, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2008

Ren was in hiding. The explosion was due to happen any second. The signs were there:
1) There had been heavy footsteps, those only made by orthopedic shoes.
2) There had been shouts of protest from her brother, Michael.
It was coming, it happened every time Ren's mother went away and Aunt Joanne came to stay. Ren knew it and counted underneath her breath,
‘5.....4....3....2.....1!’
“Ren!” hollered Aunt Joanne, stamping her way across the tiles to Ren's room. “Come out here now! I haven't said hello to you!” She opened the door and clacked her way into the room.
Ren crawled further underneath her bed, maybe if she stopped breathing Aunt Joanne wouldn't find her and submit her to the usual kissing and cheek pulling.
Suddenly her hand touched something slimy, Ren pulled it towards her and found herself face to face with a mouldy sandwich, remnants of a lunch long forgotten, Ren grabbed it and slung it out from underneath the bed.
“Yuck!” came a scream and Ren clutched a hand over her mouth. The sandwich had hit Aunt Joanne smack bang in the middle of her face. Mouldy cheese and brown lettuce were added to the bright red blush on her cheeks.
“My make-up!” cried Aunt Joanne. Ren grew worried, any minute she would be discovered. However, Ren simply heard the clack of orthopedic shoes as Aunt Joanne hurried towards the bathroom.
Ren breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted her position, there, that was better.
‘What the?’ whispered Ren to herself, spotting a small figurine hidden between two manga comics. Carefully, Ren moved herself to where the figurine was hidden and snatched it up triumphantly.
“Quacky!” she exclaimed, holding up the rubber duck. “How the chocolate did you end up down here?” Ren cradled Quacky in her palms carefully.
She tried to move towards the front of her bed, that was the perfect spot from which to spy on Aunt Joanne.
But moving wasn't quite as easy as Ren had thought.
‘What the chocolate?’ she exclaimed, finding that she could barely move her hand. Ren looked to her left and saw a plastic glue pot lying beside her. There was a trail of sticky liquid running along the carpet and trickling underneath her stomach.
Suddenly Ren saw a pair of feet, not wearing orthopedic shoes....Michael!
“Help! Michael! I'm stuck!” whispered Ren, her little brother squatted down and glanced underneath the bed. He soon realised her situation.
“You left me to face Aunt Joanne! Why in the world of smartie flavoured toothpaste should I help you?”
Before Ren could utter a word Michael stood up and waddled out of the room, rather quickly for an eight year old who regularly ate two servings of dessert.
There was nothing else that she could do. Ren had no other opinions, she was entering kiss of death territory. Ren prepared to shout her loudest.
“Aunt Joanne! Help!”