Blame It On The Wind
A Jack Kemper Story
By John Blahut
A young girl with a ruddy complexion and matted greenish blonde hair sits in a chair outside the examination rooms while patiently waiting for her broken arm to be treated. She's absentmindedly staring off into space as Marie approaches her.
Marie kneels down in front of the girl, smiles and asks, “Hi there. I’m Marie. What’s your name sweetie?”
The girl continues to stare past Marie, “Milika” she says quietly.
She spoke so softly Marie has to look down at her pad to confirm that it actually picked up her name. Looking back up at the little girl, her motherly urge to give comfort proves impossible to resist. She reaches up and begins a feeble attempt at cleaning some of the dirt off the girl’s face while asking, “And where are you from sweet Milika?”
Marie’s touch brings the girls attention into focus. She smiles at Marie with an adorable semi-toothless little grin, “New Caledonia.” she replies.
“What happened to your arm dear?”
“God threw a board at me.”
Marie chuckles, “Now why would she go and do a thing like that?”
“Daddy says God’s a cunt.”
“Well, let’s just blame it on the wind. Okay?”