Read Online Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: V.C. Andrews
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that she would check our room and bath to see we left no hint of ourselves on that Friday.
Everything said, she left. Once more she locked us in.
Now we could breathe.
Grimly, with determination, I set out to make a game of this. “Christopher Doll, I appoint you the father.”
He laughed, then said with sarcasm, “What else? As the man, and the head of this family, let it be known hitherto that I am to be waited on hand and foot—the same as a king. Wife, as my inferior, and my slave, set the table, dish out the food, make ready for your lord and master.”
“Repeat again what you said, brother.”
“From now on, I am not your brother, but your lord and master; you are to do my bidding, whatever I say.”
“And if I don’t do as you say—what will you do next, lord and master?”
“I don’t like the tone of your voice. Speak respectfully when you speak to me.”
“La-dee-da, and ho-ho-ho! The day I speak respectfully to you, Christopher, will be the day you earn my respect—and that will be the day you stand twelve feet high, and the moon is at noon, and a blizzard blows in a unicorn ridden by a gallantknight wearing pure white shining armor, with a green dragon’s head perched on the point of his lance!” And so said, and so satisfied with his disgruntled expression, I caught hold of Carrie’s small hand and led her haughtily into the bathroom where we could take our time to wash, dress and brush, and ignore poor Cory, who kept calling out that he had to go.
“Please, Cathy. Let me come in! I won’t look!”
Eventually a bathroom grows boring, and we came out, and, believe it or not, Christopher had Cory fully dressed! And what was even more shocking—now Cory didn’t need to use the bathroom!
“Why?” I asked. “Now don’t you dare tell me you got back into bed and did it there!”
Silently, Cory pointed to a large blue vase without flowers.
Christopher lounged against the highboy, his arms folded across his chest, pleased with himself. “That should teach you to ignore a male in need. We men are not like you sit-down females. Any little thing will do in an emergency.”
Before I would allow anyone to begin breakfast, I had to empty the blue vase, and rinse it out well. Really, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to keep the vase near Cory’s side of the bed, just in case.
Near the windows we sat down to the little table meant for card-playing. The twins sat on doubled-over pillows so they could see what they were eating. All four lamps were turned on. Still it was depressing, having to eat breakfast in what looked like twilight.
“Cheer up, sober face,” said my unpredictable older brother. “I was only kidding. You don’t have to be my slave. I just love the gems you spurt forth when provoked. I admit, in verbosity you females are blessed, just as we males are gifted with the perfect instrument for picnic bathrooming.” And to prove he wasn’t going to be an overbearing brute, he helped me pour the milk, finding out, as I had, that hefting a gallon-sized thermos and pouring without spilling was no mean feat.
Carrie gave those fried eggs and bacon just one glance andshe was wailing. “We-ee don’t like bacon and eggs! Cold CEREAL is what we-ee like! We-ee don’t want no hot, lumpy, bumpy food that’s greasy. Cold CEREAL IS WHAT WE LIKE!” she shrieked. “Cold CEREAL WITH RAISINS!”
“Now you listen to me,” said their new, smaller-edition father, “you will eat what is put before you, and you will make no complaints, and you will not yell, or cry, or scream! Hear that? And it is not hot food, it is cold food. You can scrape off the grease. It is solid, anyway.”
In a wink Christopher gobbled down his cold, greasy food, plus his cold toast without butter. Those twins, for some odd reason I’ll never understand, ate their breakfast without another word of complaint. I had the uneasy queasy feeling our luck with the twins just couldn’t hold out. They might be
Everything said, she left. Once more she locked us in.
Now we could breathe.
Grimly, with determination, I set out to make a game of this. “Christopher Doll, I appoint you the father.”
He laughed, then said with sarcasm, “What else? As the man, and the head of this family, let it be known hitherto that I am to be waited on hand and foot—the same as a king. Wife, as my inferior, and my slave, set the table, dish out the food, make ready for your lord and master.”
“Repeat again what you said, brother.”
“From now on, I am not your brother, but your lord and master; you are to do my bidding, whatever I say.”
“And if I don’t do as you say—what will you do next, lord and master?”
“I don’t like the tone of your voice. Speak respectfully when you speak to me.”
“La-dee-da, and ho-ho-ho! The day I speak respectfully to you, Christopher, will be the day you earn my respect—and that will be the day you stand twelve feet high, and the moon is at noon, and a blizzard blows in a unicorn ridden by a gallantknight wearing pure white shining armor, with a green dragon’s head perched on the point of his lance!” And so said, and so satisfied with his disgruntled expression, I caught hold of Carrie’s small hand and led her haughtily into the bathroom where we could take our time to wash, dress and brush, and ignore poor Cory, who kept calling out that he had to go.
“Please, Cathy. Let me come in! I won’t look!”
Eventually a bathroom grows boring, and we came out, and, believe it or not, Christopher had Cory fully dressed! And what was even more shocking—now Cory didn’t need to use the bathroom!
“Why?” I asked. “Now don’t you dare tell me you got back into bed and did it there!”
Silently, Cory pointed to a large blue vase without flowers.
Christopher lounged against the highboy, his arms folded across his chest, pleased with himself. “That should teach you to ignore a male in need. We men are not like you sit-down females. Any little thing will do in an emergency.”
Before I would allow anyone to begin breakfast, I had to empty the blue vase, and rinse it out well. Really, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to keep the vase near Cory’s side of the bed, just in case.
Near the windows we sat down to the little table meant for card-playing. The twins sat on doubled-over pillows so they could see what they were eating. All four lamps were turned on. Still it was depressing, having to eat breakfast in what looked like twilight.
“Cheer up, sober face,” said my unpredictable older brother. “I was only kidding. You don’t have to be my slave. I just love the gems you spurt forth when provoked. I admit, in verbosity you females are blessed, just as we males are gifted with the perfect instrument for picnic bathrooming.” And to prove he wasn’t going to be an overbearing brute, he helped me pour the milk, finding out, as I had, that hefting a gallon-sized thermos and pouring without spilling was no mean feat.
Carrie gave those fried eggs and bacon just one glance andshe was wailing. “We-ee don’t like bacon and eggs! Cold CEREAL is what we-ee like! We-ee don’t want no hot, lumpy, bumpy food that’s greasy. Cold CEREAL IS WHAT WE LIKE!” she shrieked. “Cold CEREAL WITH RAISINS!”
“Now you listen to me,” said their new, smaller-edition father, “you will eat what is put before you, and you will make no complaints, and you will not yell, or cry, or scream! Hear that? And it is not hot food, it is cold food. You can scrape off the grease. It is solid, anyway.”
In a wink Christopher gobbled down his cold, greasy food, plus his cold toast without butter. Those twins, for some odd reason I’ll never understand, ate their breakfast without another word of complaint. I had the uneasy queasy feeling our luck with the twins just couldn’t hold out. They might be
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