comments_readers: If you're looking for the first three parts, they were posted here in February of 2017.
Watching from the back of his limo, John eyed the red car with black trim as it parked by the curb outside of school. Although idling, the engine had a heavy throb as if it were a predator stalking its prey.
He recalled a different car not so long ago - older and barely holding together. Its owner had fled, leaving John with a second granddaughter. But this car was well-kept in spite of its age. The engine stopped and a lanky man in faded jeans and a Harley t-shirt got out and casually leaned against the vehicle. He and his car looked out of place among the more refined crowd at the Lillyfield Day School. If he was aware of it, he obviously didn't care.
John had seen the man before - the first time being a few weeks after school started. But this was the first time he had the opportunity to see the car. Leaving the comfort of his limousine, John got out to stretch his legs and to observe the car a little better.
"Nice ride," the other man said, nodding toward John's limo.
"Yours is better - Dodge Charger," John replied, unable to keep a touch of envy from his voice. "What year?"
The other man grinned, noting John's tone and understanding the universal appreciation for road machines that transcended social classes.
"Sixty-eight," the man replied before extending his hand. "Steve Jennings."
"John Olivet," John replied as he met the other's hand.
There was no test of strength between the two in their handshake - just a firm grip that broke smoothly.
"So how many kids do you have here?" Steve asked.
"Two. Two granddaughters in kindergarten."
"So's my niece. My sister died just before school started so Jamie got a late start while I got things settled."
"I think my girls are in her class. They mentioned a girl who started late and had lost her mother. Do the names Evie and Sasha sound familiar?"
Steve's face brightened as he nodded.
"Oh yeah, Jamie talks about them - they're all real tight."
For a moment, John thought about how tight Evie and Sasha were in ways that had nothing to do with the friendship Steve was referring to.
"One of them - I forget which," Steve continued. "Stood up for Jamie last week when some other girl was picking on her."
"Ah, that would be Lilith who was doing the bullying," John recalled. "Evie has told me all about her. Lilith tried to make Sasha a target, too, but Evie wasn't having any part of it."
"Yeah, that Lilith sounds like a real little bitch from the things she's said to Jamie. I don't mean to say that about a little kid but it is what it is. She probably gets it from her parents."
"She does," John confirmed, remembering the couple well. "Particularly the mother. So how's Jamie doing, if you don't mind my asking? It had to be hard for you, too."
"She's a tough kid - tougher than she looks," Steve said. "There are moments, but she's doing pretty good."
The man paused and chuckled as he patted the hood of his car.
"One of the things I had to do was put some seatbelts in the back of this thing - they didn't come standard back in the day. But I had to put 'em in so I could get a child seat in. Jamie wants to ride my bike to school but the cops would shit if I had a kid riding with me. I've wheeled her around on it in the driveway and in the back parking lot behind the bike shop but on the open road I'd get nailed."
John eyed Steve's Harley shirt and wondered what to would be like for a five year-old on a motorcycle, particularly a Harley-Davidson. He imagined Evie and Sasha on one while wearing the school uniforms. Their dresses would be hiked up, leaving their pantied crotches pressed against the rumbling machine. That engine would certainly get their little motors running with Evie whooping while Sasha blushed and peeped.
Curious as to how Jamie reacted, John would have liked to ask Steve. But he also liked keeping his original teeth intact and planted in his mouth where they belonged.
The bell rang and both men looked toward the building.
"Here comes the stampede," Steve joked.
"Yep. I'll see you around - good talking with you."
John returned to the limo, remaining outside while he watched the flow of girls in their uniforms. From the sixth grade on, they were in red plaid skirts and white blouses. The younger ones had jumper dresses over their blouses. Soon, he saw the smallest figures appearing - the kindergarteners. One child with her dark hair in a bob broke free of the crown and raced toward the Charger.
"Uncle Steve!" she cried as she jumped into the man's arms.
Steve added to her leap by tossing her in the air. She squealed happily during her brief defiance of gravity. On her way back down to her uncle, her dress fluttered up, giving John an eyeful of her smooth little thighs and the blue flowered panties that tightly covered her rump. Steve's hand caught her just below her rear, his fingers curling around one leg just before the dress restored her modesty.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade
A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Monday, November 20, 2017