Discontent in Pew

“Helena!” said her mother hissed during the service, “sit still!” That’s when her hand reached out, fingers forced into claws and a pinch was delivered to the back of her arm. Her mother could be quite severe when it came to public appearances and fidgeting in church fit that bill. But, Helena was never the sort of child to keep down. She was bursting with energy and the hour long service, especially during the good weather was too much for her to bear.

Her mother was so vicious that she suddenly felt spiteful and when the pinch was given, Helena has no qualms about opening her mouth and delivering a punishing yelp. A loud yelp….it was mostly a screech really, the sort of noise the caught attention and on this glorious spring morning there was no exception. The minister from his pulpit gave pause and searched his congregation for the source of the suffering. The path to the source was not hard to follow. All heads had turned and all eyes were on little Helena, the golden haired child of Elizabeth and Dalton Kinney, two prominent figures of the community and heavy donators to the church.

Elizabeth Kinney couldn’t have been more red. Helena on the other hand went white. She batted her eyelashes at the droves of faces that were judging her and then sunk down into the pew she was sitting until she was a squashed heap on the floor. The blue of her lacey dress flapped up and gave her welcoming concealment but this didn’t last too long. Because, although in a few moments time everyone would have forgotten the incident, Helena’s mother could never let bygones be bygones and always perpetuated a scene by making mountains out of mole hills. “Get up!” she said, grabbing hold of the girls wrist and jerking her up until the little girl was again sitting on the wooden bench.

Mortified the child went limp as a defensive maneuver and slid back down to the floor limply. “I said get up!” her mother…so embarrassed that she had temporarily lost her mind unleashed a vipers venom. Helena’s father was much more genteel. “Let me…darling.” He said, scooping his little girl into his arms and hurriedly bringing her away from the source of contempt- the maternal part of her parents.

Of course this may have been an excuse for him to get out of the church and he did so with the aplomb of the faithfully restless. “Well now you’ve done it!” he exclaimed to his daughter upon exiting the church. “Now I’ll have to bring you for an ice cream while your mother swelters her conscious clean.” He gave his daughter a kiss on her temple and exclaimed, “Thank god for tantrums…”