“Aww Mom – is it ever going to stop raining?”
Clint looked out of the bay window, the rain hitting off the glass and running down to the sill, as he noticed the deepening grey in the sky. He was wearing a mustard coloured t-shirt and brown shorts, and was bored – totally, absolutely bored.
“Not sure,” his mother called to from the kitchen.
“But I wanted to go out and play!”
“Well, that’s not possible,” she said as she came in. Mrs Jameson was wearing a white apron over her blue coat dress, as well as a pair of black shoes with a short heel. Her dark hair was cut in the style of Judy Garland, and the thin lapels of her dress were folded back.
“Well, I need to clean in here,” she said as she produced her duster, “so go up to your room and read a book or something.”
“BUT MOM!!!”
“Go,” she said as she shooed him out of the room, and he walked slowly up the stairs. As he walked up, he noticed the paper folded on the small table for his father to read, announcing the nomination of Kennedy to the Democratic ticket, and slowly made his way upstairs. It was no fun been the only boy in the family, and even worse he was the middle one – eleven year old Minnie was in her room, playing with her dolls, while big sister Marge was doing an assignment in her room.
Going to his room, Clint looked out onto the back yard, and the grey skies depositing the rain on it, and sighed again. “This is boring,” he said to himself, before he went out of his room, and pulled down the hatch to the attic, bringing down the stepladder with it. Normally, only mom or pops would go up, but he wanted to explore – anything to end this boredom...
As he climbed into the dim light, he switched on the torch he had brought from his phone and looked round. There were several boxes lying around, and Clint looked through them with increasing lack of interest – until he came across a box with a number of bags inside.
Taking one out, he opened it and was surprised to see a collection of scarves, in varying sizes, made from chiffon and silk. Clint ran his hands over some of them, and then looked in another bag, finding various old ropes coiled up in them.
As he looked at them, he thought of some comics he had read recently, and suddenly he thought of a way he could have some fun that afternoon...
Marge stretched her arms up as she looked at the sheets of hand written script in front of her. The sixteen year old was wearing a short sleeved white blouse and a long red and black tartan skirt. The skirt came over her knees and halfway down her calves, while on her feet she had a pair of white ankle socks and red shoes.
“Well, that’s taken care of that,” she said to herself, and the she heard her little brother say “hey Marge – are you busy at the moment?”
“No – I was just going to take a break,” Marge said as she turned round, “why?”
“Would you play with me for a little while?”
Marge shook her head, as she said “I don’t have time for games, Clint...”
“Please, Marge – it will only be for a few minutes, and it will be a great game.”
“Oh,” Marge said, “and what game is it going to be?”
“Well, I thought we’d do a Dragnet type thing – set up a crime scene and then I can pretend to be Joe Friday.”
Smiling, Marge said “and what would be the crime?”
“Robbery – will you play with me, as the housewife, just for a little while. Please?”
“Oh all right, I did say I’d need a break,” Marge said with a smile. Clint looked at her sister, with her reddish brown hair held in place by a can of hairspray, and said “great – hands up lady, this is a robbery.”
She laughed as she saw her brother standing there, now pointing a toy gun at her, and raised her hands as she said “oh no – please, don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Clint said as he looked at Marge, “but you are going to blindfold yourself with this scarf, and then you are going to do what I tell you.”
He smiled as she nodded slowly, and he handed her a large red headscarf. Marge folded it into a wide band, and then tied it over her eyes, the knot sitting just above the curl of her hair.
“Okay,” Clint said as he looked at his sister, “stand up, turn round, and put your hands behind your back.”
“Why?”
“I’m robbing you lady – I need to make sure you can’t stop me, so do as I say.”
“What have I gotten myself into,” Marge said as she stood up and turned round, while Clint quietly put the bag of ropes he had found down, took one out and moved her hands so that her palms were pressed together, before he started to tie them together.
“Hey – what are you doing?”
“You said you’d play, sis – are you going back on your word?”
Marge shook her head as he tried to make sure the rope was tight enough, and then walked her over to her bed, helping her to sit down before he put her ankles together, and then bound them tightly together as well. He had been looking at book and comics, and seen the villains would take the rope between the limbs, so he did what he had done with her wrists – passed the ends between her legs and then tied them off.
“Okay, you’ve made sure I can’t move, you bad man,” Marge said as she tried to wriggle round. “What now?”
“I need to make sure you keep quiet,” he said, thinking again of a thing he had read as he folded one of his clean handkerchiefs. “But first, where are all your jewels kept?”
“In my cupboardwhtffudnnn?” Marge said as she felt the cloth sitting on her tongue, and then the folded patterned headscarf as Clint pulled it tightly over her mouth, bringing the ends together at the base of her neck and securing them tightly.
“You just lie there,” Clint said as he helped Marge to lie on her side, and kissed her on the cheek, not quite believing he had tied up and gagged his big sister, “and I’m sure the detective will be along in a while to free you.”
Marge nodded as she wriggled round. It was a strange feeling, but she wasn’t afraid – in fact, she was finding it quite relaxing...
Clint walked quietly out of his sister’s room and closed the door, smiling as he did so, and then picked up the bags. He felt as if he could do anything – but right now, he was wondering if he could get his little sister to play along...
“Hey,” he said as he looked in the doorway of Minnie’s room, “what are you doing?”
“Having a tea party,” she said as she looked at Clint, the rain falling on her window. “Whachadoing?”
“I was trying a few things,” Clint said with a smile and looked at her. Minnie was wearing a dress, with short sleeves and a thin white collar. The dress was blue, with a checked pattern and white zig-zag stripes on the skirt, which came to her knees. She had a pair of light blue ankle socks on, and slippers.
“Listen – I wondered if you would be willing to take a dare on?”
“One of your dares? I don’t know Clint...”
“Come on – it will be fun?”
She looked at him and said “all right, what is the dare?”
“I dare you to let me make sure you can’t get off that chair for an hour, and make sure nobody knows you’re doing it.”
“Oh – and how are you going to do that?”
“Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a dare, would it?”
Minnie looked at her doll, and then said “all right – if I do it, what will you do for me?”
“If you do it? I’ll come to one of your doll’s tea parties. What if you don’t do it?”
“Then I’ll come to your soccer game,” Minnie said with a sigh, “so what do you want me to do?”
“Have a seat, get comfy,” Clint said with a smile, “and I’ll show you how I can make sure you don’t get off the chair.”
“Okay,” Minnie said as she pulled her wooden seat away from a chair, and sat down, her feet dangling off the edge. “So how are you going to do it?”
Clint looked at the seat, which had a high back with three thin round wooden supports, and smiled as he said “close your eyes, lean forward, and put your hands behind your back.”
“This had better not be a bad trick,” Minnie said, but she did as her brother asked, Clint smiling a she guided her arms between the slats, and then took a length of rope from the bag.
“Hey – what is that,” Minnie said as she felt him wrap the rope round her wrists, and bind them together.
“This is me making sure you can’t get off the chair,” Clint said as Minnie tried to move forward, and realised the chair back was holding her arms in place.
“Okay,” she said quietly, “okay, I walked into... Hey!”
She gasped as Clint tied the blue scarf over her eyes, and then started to tickle her sides.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” she giggled as she tried to move out of the way, with no success.
“No – but I can’t turn down this opportunity,” Clint said as Minnie giggled and wriggled.
“Okay, okay,” she said, “go on – what else are you going to do to make sure I can’t get off this chair?”
“Well, I might as well do to your ankles what I did to your wrists,” Clint said as he knelt in front of her, put her ankles together and used another length of rope to bind them side by side. He then used another length of rope to tie them loosely to the chair leg.
“Okay – I’m going nowhere,” Minnie said as she tried to move her legs. “But you said I was going to be unable to tell anyone. How?”
“Remember when we watched Rin Tin Tin last week? When the girls were taken captive by the bandits?”
“Yeah – they tied a scarf over her mouth,” Minnie said. “Are you going to do that to me?”
“With a little twist,” Clint said, “can you open your mouth for me?”
“Okay,” Minnie said, “will it hurt?”
“No – but you may want to sit still. I’ll find a radio and turn it on for you if you want.”
“Okay,” Minnie said, as she felt the clean cloth on her tongue, before Clint folded the white scarf and pulled it round her head, the silk pressing on her lips as he tied the ends at the base of her neck. He moved her ponytail out of the way so that her blonde hair fell over the knot, and then said “I’ll check and make sure you’re fine from time to time, and I’ll tell Mom you’re busy. All right?”
“Llrrthth,” Minnie said, before she giggled at the sound of her voice, while Clint went out of the room, and laughed to himself. He’d managed to get both his sisters tied up and gagged – and it had been fun.
And then a thought occurred to him, as he went back to his room and collected something.
“It’s very quiet upstairs,” Mrs Jameson said as she took off her apron, and sat down, sipping her coffee in the kitchen. The house was cleaned, everything was where it should be – her job was done.
“Put your hand up lady!”
She smiled as she saw Clint standing there, wearing a cowboy hat and a red scarf tied round his head, loosely covering his nose and mouth.
“And you are?”
“I’m the bandit, sent to kidnap the ranch owner’s wife to force him to do what I want.”
“Oh really? And what are you going to do to me, Sir,” she said, putting on a Southern accent.
“I need to take you to my hideout, make sure you stay nice and quiet while I make your loving husband do what I want. So keep those hands in the air, until I tell you what to do.”
He waved his toy gun at her, making his mother laugh as she raised her hands and said “please don’t hurt me, kind sir.”
“Then take this,” he said as he held up a large green headscarf, “fold it into a band and use it to blindfold yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because I cannot let you see where my hideout is,” Clint said with a smile.
“All right, I’ll do it,” Mrs Jameson said as she took the scarf, holding it in her manicured hands before she folded it into a band and covered her eyes, making sure the ends were secured over her hair.
“Okay then, Clint said with a smile as he put his toy gun down, and took a length of rope from his pocket, “I’m going to tie your hands, make sure you can’t use them, and then take you to my hideout.”
“Do you have to tie my hands,” she said in a concerned tone.
“Yeah – I want to be sure you don’t cause any trouble, or do something you should not. It’s not going to hurt unless you struggle, so be a nice, kind lady and stand up.”
“All right,” Mrs Jameson said as she stood up, Clint moving her hands behind her back and using the rope to secure them together. As he did so, he looked at her long fingers, the nails neat and painted red, slowly moving as her mother felt him bind her wrists tightly together.
“Have you done this before Clint?”
“No Mom,” he said as he tied the ends together, “why do you ask?”
Mrs Jameson shook her head, memories of games she played as a girl with her brother coming to mind.
“Come with me,” Clint said as he took his mother’s arm, and walked her round the kitchen, up and down the hallway and round the dining room, before she went into the front room. The television had a soap opera on, as Clint said “okay lady – I need to make sure you stay here and can’t tell anyone you’re here.”
“I don’t know...”
“Come on Mom – this is what they did on the Roy Rogers show with Dale Arden.”
Mrs Jameson nodded as Clint helped her to sit on the floor, and she stretched her legs out, her son making sure the skirt of her dress covered her legs before he took a length of rope, and tied he rankles tightly together side by side.
“What are you going to do to me,” Mrs Jameson said, trying not to smile as memories of her as an Indian princess, and her brother as John Wayne.
“I need to keep you quiet,” Clint said as he took one of his hankies, and folded it neatly into a pad before he removed the scarf from his face, and folded it into a band.
“Well, if I’m going to be quiet,” his mother said, “I need to be able to speak by the time your father gets home. Understand?”
“Got it Mom,” Clint said as he kissed her cheek, “can you let me keep you quiet please?”
Mrs Jameson opened her mouth, expecting Clint to use his own scarf between her lips, so when he put the cloth in her mouth, she was surprised and closed her lips, allowing Clint to pull the folded scarf round her head and press the cloth firmly over her lips.
So, when he had finished tying the ends of the gag at the base of her neck, the knock on the front door took them all by surprise.