Tuesday, August 27, 2013
"You know what Stanley's problem is? He thinks he's entitled to everything," said Caroline. "His parents protected him too much so now he thinks the world should be served to him on a silver platter!"
Angela lifted her shirt just then to check on the wound below her left breast. The blood had seeped through the gauze.
"Oh, good gawd!" said Wes. "Angela, put your shirt down! I don't agree with that—displaying yourself where anybody can see you. You're making me look bad. Oh, happy birthday, by the way."
"Have you taken a close look at it though, lately?" said Caroline. "Anyway, as I was saying, the trouble with him is that he was never taught how to work hard like us. He doesn't understand how much effort it took us to get the farm going."
"Yeah, we were such generous people, letting him have a job and everything," said Wes. "It took years to build up the farm. Then he took all our lion souvenirs and dumped them on the driveway! What an asshole."
Angela put down her yellow chalk and reached for the red. "The souvenirs," she said with quiet voice. "He had asked if you could remove them from our dining room table. We both wanted the space."
"There were much more pressing concerns at the time, what with the farm and everything. This is what it boils down to: we were giving him something really grand and he couldn't even appreciate it."
Angela turned the red chalk onto its side and made a short, thick line.
"Those yellow strokes there," said Wes. "They need to be longer. And that weed growing up out of the concrete is going to ruin the bottom corner of your drawing. Actually, you'd be better off doing it on the road."
"No," she said.
"Stanley owes us an apology," said Caroline. "We're entitled to it."
Angela sighed and set her chalk down. She pulled off her shirt and bra then walked over, breasts jiggling for anybody to see, and picked up the megaphone that had been laying beside the stop sign at the corner.
She put it to her mouth and said, "I'm sorry."