Fates' Folly by Ella Norris

the air for
emphasis.
    "Really?" he asked, sounding genuinely
curious.
    "I don't know, probably not. But she'd bluff
really good after she got a few drinks in her."
    "You're being honest," he said.
    "I usually try to be," I said, feeling
stupid.
    "So do I. The proper phrasing, by the way,
would be she'd bluff really well, not good."
    "I hate you."
    "We've established that. Now are you ready to
start our training? Or are we going to banter some more?"
    "My butt hurts or I'd be wittier. The pain is
distracting," I whined, rubbing my rear end.
    "Then maybe our first lesson should be how to
fall," he said, like the patronizing bastard he was.
    "Why don't you just teach me what I need to
know so I won't fall? Or, here's a novel idea, you could just stop
tripping me."
    "Technically, I have never tripped you. I
blocked your kick yesterday and lifted your foot until you lost
balance. Today, I hooked your leg with my foot, again until you
lost balance. So, as I said, technically, I have never tripped you,
just assisted until gravity and your own clumsiness took over."
    "Bastard."
    "Is this your idea of wit? If so, I am very
disappointed," he said, casually leaning against my dining
table.
    I took a deep breath. “Fine. Please show me
how to fall without bruising my ass," I asked.
    He stood up from the table, smiling-his line
of a mustache spreading wide. "I will be happy to help you save
your derriere."
     
    We spent the next three hours practicing
falling. When I say we, I mean me- falling over and over again,
trying to spread the impact throughout my body, moving my legs, so
I could catch myself before I landed on my backside and improving
my center of gravity, so I wouldn't lose my balance in the first
place.

    "Okay, we can stop," Barty said, looking
cool, calm and relaxed.
    "Good. I'm starving," I said, putting the
couch cushions back on the couch and limping into the kitchen.
    I put a jar of peanut butter, marshmallow
cream, and chocolate hazelnut spread in the center of the table
next to the loaf of squishy white bread and a box of vanilla
wafers.
    Barty picked up the jar of marshmallow cream.
"Is this what you plan to serve for lunch?"
    "No," I said, going back into the kitchen and
grabbing paper plates, two butter knives and two bottles of Coke. I
returned to the table, put a plate and a bottle of Coke in front of
Barty, and said, "This is what I plan to serve for lunch."
    "Exactly how are we using these ingredients?"
he asked, sniffing inside the box of vanilla wafers.
    I went back into the kitchen, filling up two
jelly jars from my Tom and Jerry collection with ice and returned,
setting a Tom glass beside Barty's Coke.
    "Peanut butter and marshmallow cream
sandwiches with hazelnut spread and vanilla wafer cookie sandwiches
on the side and a cold Coke poured over ice to help wash it all
down," I said.
    His face turned a little green.
    "I suppose you could have the marshmallow
cream on the vanilla wafers, and the hazelnut spread would be good
with peanut butter, this is just how I prefer it," I said, sitting
down across from him.
    "Is this how you have always eaten?" he
asked, now sniffing the ice in his glass.
    "Pretty much. The hazelnut spread wasn't
around when I was a kid, so I used chocolate frosting, but I like
the hazelnut spread better."
    "Your mother made this for you? For your
lunch? As a meal?" he asked.
    I opened up the peanut butter and started
spreading it on a piece of bread. "No. My mama wasn't into cooking
all that much. Plus, she didn't really eat, her only nutrition
coming from a bottle of Jack Daniels and cigarettes. Every once in
a while she would smoke a joint and then she and her date for the
night would raid the kitchen, but for the most part, I would take
the food stamps and any change I could scrounge up to the grocery
store and do the shopping."
    Barty made a funny face. If I didn't know any
better, I'd say he was feeling sorry for me. "As your trainer I
cannot allow you to eat this poison. I will