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From: Sxjames <Sxjames@aol.com>
Subject: RP: "Sitting for Kelli" by Hank Freeman (Mf, teen, awakening)
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Michael K. Smith's post the other day (Babysitting Drama) reminded me of this
little tale....hope you enjoy.

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                          Sitting for Kelli
                                 by
                            Hank Freeman

CH 1 - DOING FAVORS

At first I thought `what have a gotten myself into?'  I had agreed to babysit
for the neighbors whenever they were going out, since I was home alone in the
evenings anyway.  I had made the mistake of telling Pete and Judith, who lived
in the adjacent townhouse, that my wife worked nights and that I spent most
evenings watching cable and playing games on the computer.  Their eyes had
fairly lit up when I said that, and they had immediately asked if I could
babysit their two kids from time to time, so they could get out of the house.
Ugh.  How could I refuse? I'd just told them I did nothing in the evenings, so
I could not very well make up an excuse now.

Their boy Jeff was twelve and Kelli, his older sister, was fourteen. Were they
sure these kids even needed a babysiter?  Kelli certainly looked old enough to
take care of Jeff, if he even needed any looking after.  Judith was adamant,
though - kids should not be left alone.  What if someone broke in?  What if
there was a fire?  Fine, fine, I had said, though I had to wonder if someone
*did* break in if I would stick around to be of any use.

I arrived at 6:00, just after they had finished dinner.  Their place was
pretty messy, especially compared to our spotless home (my wife is a neatness
fanatic), but I guessed that was due to the presence of the kids.  I expected
a night of real horror after seeing the disarray around me; `these kids must
be monsters,' I thought.

Pete greeted me with a smile.  "Say, Hank!  We really appreciate this, pal.
We're finally going to get out on our own for the first time in, god, how long
honey?"

Judith emerged from the kitchen, wearing an evening dress with a plunging
neckline.  She was a nice looking lady for someone 15 years my senior.
"Forever," she said, and smiled at me strangely.

"Yeah, forever.  Anyway, we're going to Les Miserables and then a late supper.
Midnight too late for you?"

"No, not at all," I said, wincing internally.  "My wife gets home about then,
so I'll just call her and tell her I may be over here when she gets home."

As I was talking I began to hear some decidedly loud thumps coming from
upstairs.  Pete noticed me glancing at the ceiling.  "Kids!," he yelled up at
the stucco, "knock it off and get down here."  I heard giggles and more
rumbling, then footsteps running down the stairs.

Little Jeff emerged first.  He was awfully short for his age, and wiry. He
really looked like a much younger kid than he was.  But then, Pete looked like
a kid too, and he was over 40.  Genetics.

Right on Jeff's heels, and tugging on his hair, was Kelli.  If jeff had looked
half his true age, Kelli looked almost twice hers.  I remembered when that
film director, Polanski, got in trouble for messing around with a minor and he
claimed that he'd thought she was in her twenties.  I had taken an `oh, sure'
attitude about that, but now I knew what he meant.

Kelli was a lovely girl.  She had an hourglass figure, long smooth legs, large
breasts for a 14-year-old, and a face that reminded one incredibly of
Elizabeth Taylor in `National Velvet.'  Or maybe Natalie Wood in some of her
younger roles.  Her soft brown hair fell in lovely, loose, natural curves all
around her neck.  And she was very tall for 14 - almost as tall as my wife.
If I did not know better, I would have bet she was 19 or 20.  She was dressed
in a knee-length T-shirt with a picture of a teenage mutant ninje turtle on
it, and that combined with the roughouse play she was engaging in with her
brother were the only indications that this was a kid.

Pete made the kids stand still and he introduced them to me.  I had seen Jeff
playing around the complex, but had never met him or even seen Kelli.

"Hi," he said, looking away.

"Hi," Kelli said, looking me right in the eye.  Her expression had a kind of
boldness to it, but she still looked terribly innocent.

I held that gaze for an uncomfortable moment, then looked up to see that Pete
and Judith had already started heading for the door.  "You kids be good - mind
Mr.  Freeman," Judith said, not looking.  Pete followed her out the door
without a word.  They told me nothing about who to call if there was a
problem, or any of the stuff I'd thought one would tell a sitter.  Pretty
neglectfull parents, I thought.

The kids showed it.  For the first hour things were rocky.  These two just
would not calm down.  They wrestled, tumbled, and ran over most of the house,
and I felt weird telling them to `settle down' and things like that.  It made
me feel like my father, and hence rather old.  I began to see why the place
was such a mess.  I decided to retire to the TV room and hoped the kids would
get tired soon.

I was watching some nudie flick on the Playboy channel, and things got
reasonably quiet for a while.  Then all of a sudden I head a loud *bang*
followed by crying.

I ran into the kitchen and saw Jeff lying next to the undersink cabinet. I
felt my heart jump when I saw the blood running down his face.  Kelli was
standing next to him, looking too innocent and doing nothing to help him.

"Damn!" I said, and hurried to check him out.  As it turned out, the cut was
very small and looked far worse than it actually was.  I glared at Kelli as I
was calming Jeff and cleaning the cut with a paper towel.

"I didn't do anything," she said, indignantly.

"Sh-sh-she pushed me down!" Jeff said, sobbing.

"Nuh-uh!  Did not!"  Her voice was high and frantic.  She'd done it, of course.

The kids did that `did not, did too, did not' thing for about a minute until I
bellowed for them to shut up.  Jeff looked good as new once I got the blood
out of his hair.  I could not even find the cut anymore. They went running off
to do more damage and I cleaned the spatters off the kitchen floor, swearing
to myself.

Before I could even get back to the TV room I heard another thump, and more
crying.  This time it was Kelli who was the victim.  Jeff had obviously
tripped her as she was running up the wide carpeted stairs.  She was laying in
a heap on the tile at the foot of the stairs, crying and holding her knee


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