I Didn't Do Nuthin'

Daily Flash Fiction 7/16/20 W/C 298

I Didn’t Do Nuthin’

“What did you do?” Martin stared at me.

“Nuthin’, I didn’t do nuthin’.”

“That’s a double negative.”

“Huh?”

“So what did you do?”

“I tell ya’ I didn’t do nuthin’.” I was stubborn. I could say this all night. I was innocent.

“Now I think you did something. By telling me you didn’t do nothing, you’re telling me you did something. Right?”

Martin was tricky. Now I was confused. “Huh?”

“If you tell me what you did, your punishment will be less.”

“I tell ya’ I didn’t do nuthin’.”

Martin got in my face. “Who told you to say that? Come on, Joey. Who?”

“I can’t say. I don’t know nuthin’.” I was sweatin’, squirmin’ in the seat.

“Again the double negative, you know something. Out with it, Joey.”

I was caught, that’s for sure. Martin always knew. How do big brothers do that?

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell ya’, but ya’ gotta swear not to tell anyone else. Else…else..”

“Else what, you little worm?”

“Else she’ll whip my butt.” There, I said it.

“Joanie? You’re afraid of Joanie?” Martin laughed hysterically.

Now that hurt my feelings. He hadn’t heard her say ‘You’ll pay for what you done’.

“Joanie is ten years old. You’re twelve. What happened?”

“Last week, Joanie was hoggin' all the tortilla chips, so I took the salsa and hid it, ‘cause everyone knows you need salsa for chips. We chased each other ‘round the kitchen, the living room, the bedrooms, the bathroom, then ended up in the laundry room where we surprised the cat which scratched Joanie, then it ran off, woke the dog, which jumped up and bit mom. I blamed Joanie. Mom believed me. Joanie’s still grounded.”

“Where’s the salsa?”

I opened my sock drawer. “Ssshhh…..hidin' between my colors and whites.”

W/C 298