Search the Community

20th, Sunday Normal Illinois Silverware went click, clatter, clink, on a square table in a room rectangular room. An old, antique cuckoo clock ticked in the corner, next to the staircase. The wallpaper was dark, and if Kat looked behind her she knew she’d see a glass case filled with exotic china. The tiles that Kat’s feet just barely touched were floral. She bit her lip, straightened her blouse, grabbed at the hem of her skirt and squeezed. Click. Her mother stared down at a slab of meat as she sawed at it with a knife. Clink. Her little brother set down his glass after drinking it all in one gulp. It did not break the silence as much as punctuate it. “So,†her mother said, tapping the edge of her plate with a fork, “Lyle, how has school been?†“Fine.†Bless him, her brother looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt, squirming in his seat, averting his eyes and reverting to monosyllables. But Kat’s mother just raised an eyebrow. “Oh?†Oh, how he squirmed under that. When he didn’t say anything she sniffed pointed her knife at Kat. “He’s been having trouble in Ms. Lynn’s class, Lilly. You did well with her; you should help your brother.†She was a small woman, with sharp, angular features and eyes like jagged flint. “Uh,†Kat eyed the knife and smiled. “Sure.†Her mother nodded as though to say ‘of course’ and drove the knife back into her meat with a wet thud.