Hunting the Fairy Tale

Chapter 48 - The Hard Secret

Molly

I have descended to a new level of hell. One where I'm sitting on the kitchen floor, crying because, in a moment of insane inspiration, I've tossed the container of food out of sight and out of reach on top of the highest cabinets. I can still see it in my mind's eye, and my nose is still under the spell of the delectable aromas trapped inside it. I can even still taste it on my tongue. Worst of all, I can hear it calling out my name.

I've outdone myself today. I've gobbled up virtually all the tasty treats Tanner crammed into that cursed container. At least, unlike Ronan, I tasted and savoured every single bite and morsel of it. 

It was divine!

I became an octopus with each tentacle reaching for a scrumptious new treat. I would have eaten it all if one of my nine brains had not kicked in and yelled at me, reminding me of my mother, who right now is slaving away at the hospital so that I can have a roof over my head and buy all the albums of Mazzy Star, The Mamas and Papas, Pussycat and other near-forgotten wonders that Miss Phoebe from the Antiques and Retro shop can find for me!

Miss Phoebe insists on being called that, by the way. She is about a hundred years old and is often mistaken as part of some of her more vintage collections. She's kind, though and goes out of her way to find me vinyl albums that shouldn't exist anymore. I'm also convinced that she doesn't charge me the full price for them.

It was thoughts of this brave woman (my mother, not Miss Phoebe) that helped me find the courage to end the glutinous frenzy I was trapped in, close the lid and fling the container onto the cabinet.

It was a very good plan because any manoeuvre to get the container back would involve me standing on a chair. There will be no chairs stood on by me today! I still have the lump on my head from the lunging and the falling over and the curling on the carpet in pain and humiliation.

When my mother returns in the early hours of the morning, she'll be so happy to have those glorious snacks to enjoy as part of her dinner/breakfast. Well, we'll have to get it down from the cabinets first. No need for despair; I do have a plan. It involves the chair, but with my mother added to the structure for balance and an umbrella to hook the container into my hands.

Tanner went to so much trouble packing that box for me that I almost felt touched and not in the sleazy way usually associated with him. He built cardboard compartments for each different type to prevent the flavours from all blending together. There were even two tiny little chocolate eclairs in there that were passed on to him straight from God, carried on the pure hands of angels. 

And I ate them both! Not even one of my octopus brains spared a single thought for the woman who gave birth to me while the chocolate and cream melted on my tongue and slid down my evil throat.

I am so ashamed!

"And I want more!" My drama-queen lamentation ends in a yelp of fright when my phone suddenly rings. I have no idea where it is. I'm sure I did not throw it onto the cabinet too. I should have!

I pick myself up from the floor and follow the sound of the irritatingly cheerful ringtone to where my phone is halfway buried in the couch's cushions. How does that always happen? I fish it out, see the strange number and assume it is Tanner.

"You are evil! You are going straight to hell, Mister!" I answer the call.

Just to clarify, that is not how I normally answer the phone.

In the silence following my tirade, I suddenly envision the school principal, Mr Townsend, on the other end of the line and instantly regret my lack of self-control. No, I do not often receive calls from our principal, but he does coach the chess club, and he could call... possibly... for some reason... one day...