On Channel 12

By the time Summer was entering her third lap of a three lap heat, she was passing the stragglers that were still in their second lap.

"That is not a one twenty five," one boy's father accused as Skye and Summer cleaned their bikes, waiting for the second heat.

"Prove it," Milt said.

There were no smirks when Summer lined up for the second heat. Two boys tried to cut her off and found out; if Summer couldn't get around you, Summer tried to go through you. She just had no fear; she did not stop for anything.

Skye was again upset; she managed to get second place overall and almost refused to get her second place trophy.

"Sweetheart, for your very first race? Second place is unbelievable," Chelsea encouraged and held the small girl's hand as they walked up to the stand to get the trophy.

When Summer walked up to pick up her first place trophy, the father of one of the boys again voiced his protests.

"I'm telling you; that is not a one twenty five," the man said. "There's no one twenty five goes that fast."

"Hey, mister, what? Need a tampon?" Summer sneered.

"Summer, you tell him you sorry yeah," Milt ordered.

"But I'm not," Summer said.

"Summer, I know you the middle child," Milt started.

"No, Daddy, no I'm not," Summer said as the first tears she'd allowed herself since the day of her sister's funeral started to fall. "I'm the oldest."

The officials running the race did examine Summer's bike and concluded that it was indeed a 125; there was no deception going on.

Skye was wildly excited about the race the next time she met with Dr. Melanie Leblanc. For the first twenty minutes of their session, she recounted and recounted the entire occurrence. Melanie had difficulty bringing the child around to talking about her school work, her home life.

Then Melanie met with Summer, expecting some enthusiasm, some excitement. But it was Melanie that had to bring up the race to her young client.

"Skye did real good," Summer bragged. "She got second yeah."

"And what about you? How'd you do?" Melanie asked.

"First," Summer shrugged.

"Well, tell me about it," Melanie said when it was apparent Summer wasn't going to elaborate. "Were you scared?"

"My momma tried killing me," Summer said plainly. "After that? What you can get scared of?"

Chelsea waited in the small waiting room of Dr. Leblanc's office; Milt was at the St. Elizabeth Parish Courthouse; Stan Monroe was three months delinquent on his child support so Milt was applying for a garnishment or lien to be placed on Officer Stanley Monroe's wages.

As Chelsea and Skye chatted, a patient sat and stared at them.

"Excuse me; I hate to interrupt, but aren't you Chelsea Guidry? The reporter on Channel Twelve?" the woman suddenly asked.

"Yeah, and she's my Daddy's girlfriend," Skye confirmed.

*.*.*

"And this is the 'Cast Iron Stomach' yeah and we out here at the St. Elizabeth Public Library?" Milt Duhon smiled at the camera. "And we having us a crawfish boil."

The camera panned and showed a group of people, all smiling and waving at the camera.

"And this my little girl Skye," Milt said, nudging the small girl forward. "And my big girl Summer."

"Hi-yee," Summer waved to the camera. "Bye-yee."

"Summer, you get back here; we cooking yeah!" Milt yelled after the girl.

Milt introduced various people affiliated with either the St. Elizabeth Public Library or with Channel 12 as he went through the various steps of hosting the perfect crawfish boil. Throughout his narrative, he kept trying to catch Summer. The girl managed to stay just out of his reach.

"And when you adding the sausage, or the corn to the boil, you just throw it in, you going splash and might get burned yeah," Milt said. "So you get that paddle? The one you stirring with? Got you!"

Summer squealed as her father grabbed her around her waist and picked her up.

"Love you, yeah," Milt said and kissed her on her forehead.

"Love you too Daddy," she said, arms around his neck.

"Now, you tell them how do it," Milt ordered, putting her back on the ground hand handing the paddle to her.

"You just put the paddle kind of almost halfway in there, and you kind of lean it back and just roll them potatoes, them sausages? You just roll them in there and you don't get burned," Summer said into the camera as she demonstrated.

She looked over at her father, then back at the camera.

"Bye-yee," she waved and took off running again.

THE END

*****

*Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. I do sincerely thank you for reading my stories.

Disclaimers. Which, sadly enough, often get more comments than the stories do.

Yes, I need an Editor. No, I do not want an Editor.

Yes, it jumps around too much.

Yes, there's too many people to keep track of.

Yes, it's too long.

Yes, it's not long enough.

Yes, it's in the wrong category.

Yes, it's stupid shit and...

Yes, I suck.

Feel better?

Have a super sparkly day.