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Casey tried to make herself small as she delivered the fresh beers. The last thing she wanted to do was to block their view of the game and make them angry.
“I must congratulate you John, you got her so well trained!” Mark laughed as she schooled her face to deadpan as she reached for his empty bottle.
The others joined in. Their voices following her like crows cawing over a carcass as she returned to the kitchen. Careful not to jostle the glass she delicately placed the empties in the bin. Making so little noise she was able to hear their continued conversation over the blare of the football game.
John sounding smug “Yeah, Caseybear is a good girl.”
“Starting to become a looker too! Have you noticed any boys sniffing around yet?” Paul’s nasal whine grating on Casey’s nerves as the content of his question stopped her breath.
“Got a fine pair of legs on her, I noticed that myself.”
Casey braced herself on the kitchen bench. This couldn’t be happening. Not just Uncle John, but his three friends too? Was every adult like this?
Then George spoke “No, surely she is still too young? How old is she anyway?”
When John spoke, the remaining chuckles died away “Thirteen” but then he turned it into a joke, her nightmare, “If she wasn’t my niece I’d be looking too!”
Laughter burst from the front room, more noise from the television and then steps were coming her way. John entered the kitchen fiddling with a cigarette packet. “McKinney just went down. Game is delayed until he gets a medic on the field. How’s the food coming?”
Casey quickly looked at the oven timer “15 minutes.”
“Don’t let that timer make noise during the game.” and John looked at her, his eyes hard.
Mouth dry, she nodded her agreement. Satisfied he opened the back door and stood at the threshold, lighting his smoke. Casey was pondering how to manage the timer buzzer when John spoke again, looking out into the yard.
“You know I love you Caseybear, and you are going through changes, but if you start running around with boys…” Casey was frozen, not even daring to blink as she watched John puff on the cigarette “…well I would have to cut off the problem.”
She knew a threat when she heard one but she wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying.
“Such a small nub of flesh.” He looked at the tobacco end glowing near the filter “Could probably burn it off.”
She flinched, remembering the pain and ache of burns. John saw and smiled “I’d hate to do it, but it seems those Africans do know how to keep their girls good.”
Bile was rising in her throat as she gained understanding, she had to try a few times to find her voice “I…I’ll b..be good. Good.”
He came over, towering over her enough to block out the light, and kissed the top of her head “That’s my girl. Just so we understand each other.” then he was walking back to the living room and his friends. Their laughter again battering at her nerves.
She stared at nothing, wishing to be anywhere but here, but knowing if she ran away again…
They’d learned about it in class. Stella brought it up because she saw a social justice post on Twitter. Female Genital Mutilation. Casey had added some information into her report about Africa. A report she printed out two days early and carried in her bag until it was due.
Had he seen it? Was she the one who gave John the idea?
The thought sickened her.
She looked up just in time to extend the timer, delaying the unwanted ring for another hour. Mechanically she went through the motions of removing the tray, grabbing a serving bowl, filling it with the chicken pieces. She was nervous delivering the food to the four men in front of the television but only George bothered to look at her with a thank you nod. The others only had eyes for the game, so Casey was able to flee to her room without any other delays. She had an hour before she had to reset the oven timer again.
Only four years, three months, and twelve days to go.