#10 China Cat (The Oatmeal)

He let them in through the gate, then picked her up to carry her across the threshold. The house went on and on. He followed a path of petals while talking to her, ‘…I built this house myself…’ then put her gently down on the bed, ‘…and designed it…’ She looked around. There were pictures of naked women on all four walls, a floor-to-ceiling window, and a huge closet. The closet door was open and stuffed with his clothes. It was messy. Actually, the whole bedroom was messy; Dan was a slob.

He brushed a stray blond hair from her face purposefully. It tickled. He lifted her dress up to her neck and presumably took her all in. ‘…this is all mine too…’ She hoped he understood about the bra and panties. ‘…but I must get rid of the hair on the peach…’ he added in a husky voice. He immediately began to slather between her legs something boiling hot and sticky. She flinched but stayed put. China was accustomed to a man doing stuff to her between her legs. She peeked. He rummaged around in a bag and laid cloths on her peach. She felt them cooling on her skin. Then he tore one off, a patch of dark hairs coming with it. When she saw it, it occurred to her that she never dyed down there. It hurt like hell, but she stayed still for it. He repeated the process until she was bald down there, and all she did was flinch. ‘…there…’ he exclaimed, ‘…that’s the way I like it…’ He got on top of her, put his penis in, and pushed until he climaxed inside her. It didn’t take long. He got off her, crawled under the covers, pushed her out of the way with his arse and back, then took a nap. She was left there, with her dress up around her neck, so she kicked her shoes off, took her socks off, crawled under the covers too, and went to sleep. There was nothing else to do.

Dan shook her harshly until she sat up. She looked at him blurry eyed and wiped at her face. It was sticky and bloody from sleeping with her hands between her legs. ‘…what’s the matter with you…you should be out in the kitchen cooking something…go on git’ he yelled at her, and chased her out of the bed. The wetness of him ran down her leg. He must have fallen back to sleep as it was quiet when she padded out on ceramic floor in bare feet. China looked all around the kitchen. She had never cooked before, but she would try. She rooted around in the cupboard. There was lots of foods, although many she never heard of, so she picked oatmeal. She had had it warm a few times, and she knew how to make it. Thinking they were like cherries, she added cranberries and it would be pretty for him. She would wait to eat with him. By then, the cranberries, which she never heard of, would be thawed. He had so many foods she never heard of. She waited. And waited. Finally, he started to stir. It hadn’t got off to a great start, but this was the part of marriage she relished. She had read about it. Sitting together and talking.

Dan came in fully dressed and with shoes on. He looked at the bowls, one to the other, and his mouth watered at the hot soup, he guessed, he was going to get. He sat back, leaned against the back of his chair, and stretched his legs out. He closed his eyes. In the next moment, he watched as she poured dry flakes, then sprinkled a handful more of thawed and wrinkled cranberries in each. She smiled, took up both bowls, brought them to the sink, and turned on the hot water. Dan balled up his fists, and punched her with one of them, sending the bowls clattering to the floor. China’s face went from smiling to agony in that instant. He stepped over her, then stomped off. She noticed how big he was. ‘…you don’t even know how to make oatmeal…besides…we don’t eat breakfast at lunch time around here…’ he yelled at her ‘…and you weren’t a virgin and aren’t a blond either…’ She heard his keys jangle, the closet door, the gate, then she heard him start up a vehicle, and speed off. She rubbed where he hit. It hurt. She stayed on all fours, sniffled, and started cleaning, as if she could make it go away.