Rock Paper Scissors
I was two years old when my father disappeared. I cried for a whole week.
"Cheer up, Alexander." Aunt Morgause always sounded nasty. "He'll probably come crawling out from under some rock."
I spent years checking the rocks and stones in our backyard, but never found my father.
Later, I learned to play rock--paper-- scissors, mostly with my sister Kitty. One day after we'd been play fighting, her diary fell on the floor and opened at a certain page. I looked. Wouldn't you? She'd written down what Aunt Morgause had said about my father crawling out from under some rock, and underlined it.
Which meant it was valuable information. Kitty has an instinct for family secrets, and we have plenty. Even though I was young, I sensed a permanent undercurrent of distrust in our family. No matter what the topic, they'd argue till dawn. Most didn't back down, and everyone took sides. Truth is, I needed someone on my side.
The day before I turned ten, Kitty came into my bedroom and closed the door behind her. I'd never seen her so serious.
"Alex, get ready. This is gonna change your life." She took a deep breath. "When you turn ten, you get the family gift. It's rock--paper-- scissors, for real." And she explained why she'd written down what Aunt Morgause had said and what I could do about it. I listened hard. Years ago, Aunt Morgause had caught Kitty eavesdropping. Since then, Aunt has refused to talk to her. Which is why, according to Kitty, I had to challenge her.
Together, we practiced for the rest of the day. I needed to master this family gift.
Enjoying this story? Don't miss the next one!
SUBSCRIBE TO DSF
Next morning, my birthday dawned bright and clear. The whole family gathered for my party. After all the nice stuff and the food, I challenged Aunt Morgause to play rock--paper--scissors.
She agreed.
We played.
She won, mostly.
Then the right moment came. When she said rock I did what Kitty had taught me. With my mind I reached up and seized the word, turned it round and threw it right back at Aunt Morgause. I made the word hover over her head and then double back on itself, so that the pointy end connected with the feathery end. I even heard it click into place. Immediately, my father materialized in front of us, a huge smile on his face. Aunt Morgause shrank back into her chair. I clapped my hands. I'd done it!
"Alexander!" Dad rushed forward and gave me the biggest bear hug in all creation. Then he turned on Aunt Morgause. "What a spiteful old witch you turned out to be. I've missed eight years of my son's life, all because you outplayed me." He glanced at me. "I believe Alexander wants to play you again, now."
Aunt Morgause glanced at the door, like she wanted to bolt. "Again...?"
"Yes."
Once a second challenge has been issued, it must be accepted. Again we played, Aunt Morgause and I.
First time, she won.
I waited.
The moment she said paper I seized the word and flung it back at her. It twisted right round and clicked, as before. Aunt Morgause folded down into a dusty, old-fashioned paper fan. Everyone cheered. We put her in a drawer, along with the others. Next family get-together, we'd bring her out and dust her off. Maybe.
But whoever dusts has to be very, very careful. Our relatives may be filed away, but they play with scissors.
The End
This story was first published on Monday, August 14th, 2017
We hope you're enjoying
Rock Paper Scissors by
Brenda Joyce Anderson.
Please support Daily Science Fiction by becoming a member.
Daily Science Fiction does not have a paywall, but we do have expenses—more than 95% of which are direct payments to authors for their stories. With your $15 membership, less than 6 cents per story, we can continue to provide genre fiction every weekday by email and on the website to thousands of readers for many years to come. You may also choose to support us via patreon.
Tell me more!
Support Daily Science Fiction
Please click to rate this story from 1 (ho-hum) to 7 (excellent!):
Please don't read too much into these ratings. For many reasons, a superior story may not get a superior score.
5.1 Rocket Dragons Average
Please join our mailing list and
receive free daily sci-fi (your email address will be kept
100% private):