Chapter #7Dad smells your mess by: R682  
The more intently you stare at the back of your father's head, willing him not to notice anything is different, the more it seems to have the opposite effect. First you hear him sniff the air, as if only clearing his nose a little. Then, as you anxiously study him, he sniffs again, then finally turns around to glance at you.
"Jesus, Daniel," he growls, "have you farted?"
"Something like that," you mutter, blushing and staring down at your feet.
Your father sniffs deeply through his nose one more time, then twists back around and glowers at you, his eyes not at all on the road ahead.
"Oh, you haven't!" he exclaims incredulously. "Seriously?!"
"What else was I supposed to do...?" you whimper pitifully, "I tried to tell you."
Your father groans, remembering to look back ahead only just in time to avoid drifting across the white line into the path of an oncoming truck. That might even be a mercy right now.
"How old are you?!" he addresses the windscreen angrily. "How old?!"
"I couldn't help it," you start to cry.
"Should have had you in a diaper from the start," your father mutters. "Your Aunt Sabrina won't put up with this kind of nonsense. You can be sure of that."
"You can't tell her!" you moan plaintively.
"I'm going to do more than that," your father thunders. "Just you wait."
You sit in your stink for another half an hour before your father finds anywhere to pull in. When he does so, its not a service station or even a garage, but a humpback country bridge over a shallow river on the periphery of a small town.
"Strip to your underwear," your father gruffly points towards the undoubtedly freezing water. "Then get down there, sit in the water under the bridge, drop your pants, and don't come out until you're clean. In fact," he looks at the road ahead. "You can stay there out of sight, under the arch, until I come back for you. Fifteen minutes."
Before you know what is happening, you're being unceremoniously prompted out of the car. There's nobody else in the immediate vicinity, but it's very open around here, with the arch of the bridge providing the only shelter. Are you really supposed to clean yourself this way? Apparently so, and what's more, as soon as you're standing by the side of the road, your father seems quite prepared to leave you to it. Fifteen minutes, he said, but seeing him drive away offers you very little sense of certainty to see him return.
"You can't...!" you shout after the car, but your father is already gone.
Well, shit.
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