Housework

Housework

With feather duster in hand, Olga leaned over the credenza engrossed in a romance novel while whistling a popular tune. The Summer sun poked its way through the dining room window while a sporadic breeze tousled the lacy curtains; seemingly to the sound of the music Olga created.

The sound of water rushing from the kitchen indicated her mother; Flora was doing dishes from this morning’s breakfast. After a minute or so, obscured by the sounds of whistling and running water, footsteps entered the living room; slowly, methodically. Olga, her back to the entrance way, turned another page of the paperback book and continued reading and whistling. Occasionally, she moved the feather duster across the front of the credenza in an attempt to feign dusting.

A hand reached out and picked up a small pillow from the closest leather chair. It was wide enough to cover someone’s face, yet small enough for ease of handling. The unknown visitor moved silently towards the oblivious teen while maintaining a tight grasp on the pillow. The wood floor creaked at the next step. The person stopped. Olga was unaware of the sound. The menacing intruder, again, moved forward. The water was still running in the kitchen. The sound of neighbors shouting from their windows, to those in the plaza below, filtered through the delicate lace, occasionally brushing against Olga as she read. The footsteps moved forward, now only 3 feet away from the intended target.

Olga, putting the feather duster down, straightened up and stretched her arms and back relieving the kinks. She again returned to her book. The intruder raised the pillow and took a last step forward.

“Get to work!” Flora yelled, slamming the pillow against Olga’s head. Olga screamed and protected her head against further swats.

“Mamma, I am working!” she pleaded, picking up the feather duster with one arm while still protecting her head with the other.

“Yeah, I see how you work!” Flora retorted. “Don’t you think I know your tricks? I have tricks of my own! Now get to work. Papa will be home for lunch soon and I want the dusting done.” Flora threw the pillow and Olga caught it before it hit her again in the head.

Her heart pounding, Olga tossed the pillow on the sofa. Her mom, walking into the kitchen, went to the sink and turned off the water.