Chapter Two

Helena Handbasket’s left hand steered her Daddy’s Caddy while her right hand stroked the Smith & Wesson 38-calibre 5-shot Airweight laying on the leather upholstery beside her. Her Daddy presented her with the gun on her 16th birthday. A smile slipped past her set lips as she remembered ripping away the gold wrapping paper and red ribbon, lifting the box lid to behold the glittering silver handgun nestled on pink satin.

                “Oh Daddy!” she’d squealed, throwing herself into his arms, “it’s exactly what I wanted! I just can’t wait to shoot it!”

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                “I know, I know,” Daddy growled, gently extricating himself from her grip. “Whoa, look at the time, gotta go.” He made a hasty exit. Even Daddy knew that his Baby Girl was a ticking time bomb with flame-colored hair. He trusted her to use the gun to defend herself. He did not, however, trust her to make mature decisions about who she needed to defend herself against. He also knew that his Baby Girl, as much as she loved her Daddy, blamed her Momma’s frequent fainting spells on Daddy’s long ongoing affair with the woman he was headed out to meet, Betty Didd, or as Helena referred to her “Daddy’s Fucking Floozy”, DFF for short, which Hel pronounced Diff.

                “What’s the Diff?” Helena muttered resentfully as Daddy fled, but then she brightened as she imagined showing off her new little friend to her old friends. “A true Southern lady wants those country boys to know she carries her own ‘protection’, after all.” Her Revlon Crimson Ember-lipsticked lips curled up into a wicked smile.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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