Featherscape Tickle Story Collection

Aubrey and the Hag

It was an ironically, almost painfully beautiful day, the day that Aubrey Welsh, and her mother, Jean, stepped out of the courthouse. The moment she stepped out into the daylight, finally free of the florescent hellscape of the courtroom, the girl unfolded her sunglasses from her purse and applied them around her eyes, not willing to face the bright, blue day as a blessing but more as one more thing to have to shield her eyes from. The girl clenched a manila folder in her hand which she wanted nothing more than to just throw it in the street. The once gorgeous day now tainted with the sour tone of dealing with the Wilbury judicial system. Aubrey and her mother stormed back to the car, a scowl hiding underneath a demeanor of false placidity. Neither Aubrey or her mother said anything. Aubrey knew that her mother was still angry with her and Jean knew that her daughter would still be throwing a fit about the whole ordeal had she been just a little bit younger. Upon approaching the car, Jean pulled out the remote control to her Mercedes attached to her key ring and pressed the unlock button. All at once, the soft, cracking sound of four doors unlocking at once broke through their silence. Aubrey opened the passenger door while her mother opened the driver door. The girl and her mother sat in, closed the doors behind them, and buckled up. It was only when Aubrey found herself in a position of privacy did she want to scream, swear, and just throw her fists every which way, which is what she knew she would have done if her mother wasn't in the car with her. Instead, she rested her elbow against the car window with her fist pressed firmly against her cheek, and stared out into the town as it passed swiftly by. Jean remained silent through the first half of the car ride, not knowing exactly what to say or if she even should say something. Instead, she sighed loudly the kind of sigh that parents often sigh when they want to say something that they know is going to only cause more problems. Aubrey, however, wasn't about to just ignore it.

"What, mom?" Aubrey asked bitterly. "What do you want to say?" Jean knew that this was her opportunity, for if her daughter was just going to be mad at her for pointing out her own flaws, she might as well put in her two cents.

"You could have been killed," said Jean. "You could have killed someone else. What were you thinking?"

"Mom, it was just one stop sign," said Aubrey. "I don't see what the big deal is." Aubrey did though. She did know that she was lucky to have not been at the courthouse under more serious charges and even luckier to still be alive. She still, however, refused to play the bad guy.

"Honestly, you're lucky that cop saw you run it," said Jean. "And you can believe that you're even luckier that you're not being fined. A little community service might do you some good." Aubrey scoffed and looked at the manila folder in her lap. She knew what it consisted of: her mandatory community service assignment. Aubrey understood perfectly well that she had gotten lucky, but looking down onto that folder made her realize that she would have much rather just paid the fine than have to give up twelve weeks of her summer taking care of some old crone. However, Aubrey didn't have a dollar to her name that was not given to her by her parents, and she knew that they were not about to bail her out of hard work. It would just open more cans worms asking them to do so, so she kept her mouth shut.

Aubrey looked over to her mother. Jean knew that the offense was not particularly horrendous. Of all the trouble she could have gotten behind the wheel of a car, this was probably the most minimal. Jean thought back to the days of her own teenage years and onto all the incidents that had gotten her into much worse situations. She wasn't about to relate them to her daughter, because then Aubrey would know that she was overreacting about the whole situation. She was, but only to instill the point onto her daughter the importance of driving safely and obeying the law. Jean knew that Aubrey wasn't a bad child and not in the way that all parents believe that of their kids. Twenty two years as a teacher gave Jean a good amount of perspective on what made a child 'bad' and what made a child 'careless'. Aubrey was the latter in this situation but Jean didn't want this one minor, if petty, offence snowball into an all new teenage persona of rebellion and disobedience. Jean looked back over at her daughter briefly at a stop light.