Flash! Fiction by Peter McMillan - HTML preview
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55
“Allison, did you remember to leave food out for Mrs. Easom so she can feed your creatures and that lizard?” Mother was using a mirror to guide the tweezers across her forehead.
“He’s not a lizard. He’s a gecko,” declared eleven-year-old Allison,”
and, of course, I left out food—and feeding instructions. You know I don’t forget things like that.”
“Looks awfully like a lizard to me,” replied Mother, “but you’re right, dear. He’s a gecko. And I’m sure Mrs. Easom will be able to figure everything out.”
“Ok you two,” interrupted Daddy, changing lanes to pass a truck.
“We’ve got 1603 miles to go before we get to the Grand Canyon, so you might as well settle down and enjoy the ride.”
“Alright Daddy, but you know how she provokes me.” Turning up the volume on her iPod, she pressed her face against the window.
“I’m sorry Allison” said Mother over her left shoulder. “I didn’t mean to provoke you. I just wanted— Here, let’s turn on the radio.”
“Good idea. Weekend Edition should be on.” He pressed one of the preset buttons and adjusted the volume for front and back.
“Oh my God,” sighed Allison.
The truck they were passing was carrying pigs—an upper and a lower level. The pigs were mashed up against sides of the trailer, and as her father pulled beside the truck, Allison could see the pink snouts, the floppy ears, even a curly tail poking through the metal slats, and the big, deep eyes.