Black Feet Matter

It just seemed like another day, the day it began that is. All weekend we’d been looking forward to the Superbowl. The three of us had got together as a family and crowded around the television, each of us wearing the team’s jersey and ready to cheer them on to victory.

But then, as they played the national anthem, and we all stood with our hands to heart, Brad went ahead and did it; he dropped to one knee in front of the television.

I scowled through the rest of the song, wanting inside to scream at him, however, I knew it was disrespectful to break the melody of the anthem. As it drew to its conclusion, Brad climbed back up from his knee and took a seat on his bean bag as if he hadn’t just committed a mortal offence.

“Bradley, what the hell did you just do?” I asked while still standing in front of the television.

He turned around, his eyes big and blue. “Ms Alexandra said in school we should kneel for black lives matter.”

“Miss who said what!?” I screeched. “We don’t agree with any of that crap in this house.”

Bradley’s mouth hung open. “But it hurts no one,” he said with a shrug. “Ms Alexandra says it’s just to support our black brothers and sisters.”

I rolled my eyes. “And let me guess, it this Ms Alexandra black?”

Bradley didn’t open his mouth, but instead silently nodded, a look of expectant doom on his face.

“I knew it.” I nudged my husband, Eric, in the arm. “You hearing this crap, darl? Can you believe the nonsense they’re filling our kid’s head with?”

“First Trump loses, and now this,” he said through gritted teeth. “I got good mind to go down there tomorrow and give them an earful.” There were droplets of spit firing off from the gap in his bushy beard.

“Oh, don’t you worry.” I looked at Bradley again through narrowed eyes. “I’m gonna be going there myself first thing tomorrow.”

“Mom!” Bradley said in a desperate tone. “Please don’t. Ms Alexandra is a good teacher. I enjoy her classes.”

“Well she ain’t gonna be your teacher no more if I got something to say about it.”

“Mom!”

“Be quiet and enjoy the game, kid.” I nodded towards the television just as the game was about to kick off. “But this isn’t gonna be the end of the matter.”

The next day after I dropped Brad off, I went marching up to the principal’s office. My knock was thunderous on the door, and as the diminutive Principal Jones tentatively eased it open, my eyes were bulging with fury. “You’ve got some explaining to do,” I said, before brazenly marching passed and taking a seat in front of her desk.

She tip-toed passed me with a sheepish look on her face. “Is there something the matter, Mrs Nicholson?” She brushed down the skirt of her lace dress, knees touching together, before sitting in her seat with her back straightened the entire time. Her cheeks were rosy after my outburst and that gave me the confidence to press further.

“You damn right there is something the matter.” I jabbed my fingertip into the surface of her desk. “I’m not paying your extortionate fees and making generous donations every year for your staff to fill my son’s head with this liberal crap.”

Her eyebrows screwed up in confusion. “What ever are you talking about, Mrs Nicholson?” Principal Jones knew enough about me to know I wouldn’t stand for crap on my watch. This was the third time I’d been in to see her this semester. I was well known around the school and neighbouring community, always participating in the PTA and ensuring the school had the right image. I strutted around the grounds revelling in the respect lavished upon me. I was used to it after years of adoration from my beauty pageant victories.

“Who is this Ms Alexandra teacher?”

Principal Jones’ faced relaxed. “She’s a new teacher that has moved here from Georgia. She started a couple of months ago and comes highly recommend.” She smiled. “Actually, there has been considerable improvement in the students’ performances since she’s come on board.”

I rolled my eyes again and raised the palm of my hand, just to let her know that I was done listening to her drivel. “Umm, hello? Why wasn’t I consulted in her hiring?”

Principal Jones’ face remained blank. “Mrs Nicholson, you know employee hiring isn’t an issue that we consult the PTA on.”

“Well it damn well should be! How dare you hire someone that’s gonna come along and brainwash my son’s head with her ridiculous politics.”

“Mrs Nicholson, what exactly are we talking about here?”

“Your new teacher has been filling my kid’s head with warped ideas and I’m not gonna stand for it.”

“Okay, well are you wanting to make some kind of official complaint?”

“No, I want her gone. I’m not having it.”

“Well, I can’t just do that, Mrs Nicholson. There’s a whole disciplinary procedure we have to go through. I mean, you haven’t even told me what’s happened.”

“Bradley dropped to one knee during the national anthem in the Superbowl yesterday, all because of your new teacher and her soppy ideas.”

Principal Jones raised an eyebrow to the point her skin stretched and her aging wrinkles almost disappeared. “Why is that a problem exactly?”

My mouth dropped open. “Are you being serious? Why the hell should we drop to our knees during our own national anthem? It’s completely disrespectful to my beliefs.”

Principal Jones shook her head, then she leant over and hit a button on the intercom. “Stacey, could you ask Monique to come to my office please.”

I felt a flush run through my cheeks. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Principal Jones was still leaning over her desk when she looked up at me. “I’m asking her to come and explain what happened. That seems only fair?”

“I don’t want to speak to her!” I wiped my forehead dry of sweat. This whole situation was really getting my back up and the cramped little office felt like a sauna. “I want you to deal with her and get rid of her as soon as possible.”

Principal Jones scratched her chin and appeared to be considering my suggestion, but then, barely a few moments later, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, while I looked at her distraught.

I squirmed in my seat as a large, black woman came into the office. Large in more ways than one, as not only was she taller than me, but she was wider too. She was easily carrying a few extra pounds, and although that didn’t make her ugly, I pouted my lips in disgust that such a specimen was involved in the education and raising of my child. “You asked to see?” she said, in a polite, Southern tone.

“Yes, Monique, thank you. Would you like to take a seat?” Principal Jones gestured towards the remaining empty seat in the room, immediately adjacent to my own.

I wanted to shrink into my seat and hide away. I was good at sticking my oar in and stirring up trouble when something didn’t go my way. I’d use my looks, wealth and position in the community to come out on top, but I always did this behind the scenes, using my networking and connections to my advantage. Principal Jones bloody knew this well enough, but by inviting this teacher into the mix she had surely complicated things.

“Have you been teaching your students about the Black Lives Matter movement?”

Monique glanced at me momentarily in confusion, then she cleared her throat. “Well, yes, to an extent. We cover a lot of areas regarding civil rights. Rosa Parks, Dr Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X and of course more recent events and protests. We’re trying to paint a picture of struggle to achieve a fairer society for all.”

“What a load of rubbish,” I said under my breath, perhaps a bit too loudly.

Monique’s eyes flicked towards me, but she didn’t say anything regarding my snipe. “Is there a problem?” she asked, directing the question towards the principal.

Instead of answering, Principal Jones looked towards me and gesturing with her hand for me to speak up.

“What?” I turned slightly away from Monique so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes. This was completely unprofessional of Principal Jones! Bringing the teacher in to face the complainant. I was going to be after her job too at this rate.

“Is there a problem?” Monique asked again, and when I turned to look at her I realised the question was directed at me.

“Well, yes, actually.” I sat up straight in my chair. “I don’t like you filling my son’s head with your liberal opinions.”

Monique’s face screwed up. “These aren’t opinions,” she said while looking flabbergasted. “This is American history.”

“What’s taking a knee to the national anthem got to do with American history? You think that’s right? That you’ve taught my son to kneel to his own anthem? He should be standing with pride!”

“If he did kneel, then he has my respect.” Monique smiled, actually smiled at me. “Though, it certainly wasn’t at my instruction to do so.”

“Oh, give over.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop with your lying. He flat-out told me he learned it from you.”

Monique nodded, though her expression remained neutral. “There’s a difference between learning about something and being told to do it.”

I grimaced and turned in my chair so I was facing her better. “Don’t speak to me in that patronising tone like I’m an idiot.”

Monique sighed and looked back towards the principal. “All I’m saying is that if your child decided to kneel to the national anthem for Black Lives Matter then that was his own choice. In my opinion you should be applauding his empathy, not accusing me of falsehoods.”

I looked at Principal Jones aghast. “I’ve already made it known that her opinions aren’t welcome around here.”

Monique put her hand to her chest. “Honestly, Ruth, I’ve never once told the students to kneel or support Black Lives Matter. They’re aware of it because it’s a big part of current events. Some of them have been seen it at home on the news. But, let me make this clear, I’ve never once endorsed or promoted the movement.” She leant forwards with a serious stare. “You know I wouldn’t do that. I know how strict the rules are when it comes to politics in the classroom, Ruth.”

“Sure, you do.” I chuckled and rolled my eyes towards Principal Jones not quite believing the tripe that was coming out of Monique’s mouth. “You just think they don’t apply to your sort because you have a chip on your shoulder. You think the world owes you something because you’re black.” Principal Jones eyes were wide as she took in my words, then they rapidly darted towards Monique at my side. Both women seemed to be silent and lost for words, and I took that as my cue to seize the initiative. “I believe in All Lives Matter, not this skewed version that favours black people over everyone else. Why should you get a free pass because of the colour of your skin? I see your lot all the time, burgling houses, dealing drugs and stealing cars and then you cry about racism and think that gets you a free pass. It’s no surprise the prisons are filled with you lot and now you’re trying to get my son believing in your rubbish too.”

Principal Jones’ mouth hung open and she rapidly blinked a number of times in succession. “Mrs Nicholson,” she said in a shocked voice. “I can’t believe what I’ve just heard.”

“What?” I asked. I looked over to Monique and she too was sat with a look of shock on her face. “Why are you both acting like what I’m saying isn’t true.” I leant towards Principal Jones and talked through the side of my mouth while gesturing towards Monique with my thumb. “I mean, what did you expect when hiring one of her sort? Everyone knows what black–”

There was suddenly a sharp pain in my scalp, and before I could realise what was happening, I tumbled onto the floor out of the chair.

“You racist bitch,” I heard Monique screaming, and I realised she was the one yanking on my hair. I tried to get up, but her tugs were relentless and the pain intense.

“Monique, the hell you doing?” I heard the principal yell while she leapt from behind her desk and tried to pull the raging banshee from me. But I was caught in Monique’s clutches and completely unable to escape. Her fingers clenched my blonde locks with my scalp screaming for a reprieve. It seemed there was muscle beneath her flabby arms and she began rag-dolling me back and forth across the office floor.

“Get off me, ya crazy bitch,” I squealed. “Get her off me.” I tried to scramble away and scratched at her hands, but there was fury in her eyes and I was completely out-marched.

Thankfully, Principal Jones managed to grab Monique’s face and turn her head so she was looking into her eyes. “Monique, let go of her!”

The older woman seemed to calm the raging teacher down, and Monique thankfully released my hair, dropping me to the floor with a thump. While I had the chance, I crawled to the far corner of the office and managed to claw my way to my feet. “I want her gone,” I screamed while leaning back against the door. “I’m not putting up with this when I pay so much towards your school. She almost killed me!”

Monique’s face suddenly softened and terror overtook her eyes. She looked towards Principal Jones in hope. “You know how much I need this job.”

Principal Jones adjusted her skirt and removed some loose strands of her hair from her face. “Monique,” she whispered, while placing a hand on her shoulder. “You just assaulted a student’s parent right in front of me.”

“You heard what she said,” Monique spat. “She was racially abusing me.”

I was now leaning onto the back of a chair, exhausted after the ordeal I’d just been through. However, I was still able to keep my spine and voice my feelings. “How dare you say such a thing. I’m totally in favour of All Lives Matter, just not that slanted version you’re pushing.”

Once again Monique’s chubby cheeks were filled with rage, however, Principal Jones kept a grip on her arms and shook her delicately. “Don’t, Monique,” she said in a firm voice. “You’re only going to make this worse for yourself.”

I could see Monique’s eyes turning bloodshot even from across the room. Damp patches had collected in the armpits of her blue blouse and there were beads of sweat pooled above her eyebrows. Her teeth chattered at spitting some kind of retort or insult my way, but somehow, she managed to reign it in.

I felt emboldened now I knew Principal Jones was on my side. “I’m pressing charges.” I straightened up and tidied my hair. “I’m not having some hoe assaulting me like that.”

“Who you calling a hoe, bitch?” Monique screeched as she brushed the older principal easily aside and lunged for me claws outstretched.

I was still stood, shielded by my confidence at gaining the upper hand, when Monique’s fingers latched into my hair once more and yanked my head to the point of whiplash.

I was sat in a chair with a hot coffee clutched in my grasp, taking trembling sips and darting my eyes around. My scalp hurt a little, but I was mostly fine. I wasn’t about to tell the police stood nearby that though, was I? I hunkered down beneath the blanket one of the other teachers had draped over my shoulders during the aftermath of Monique’s violence. I held a bag of ice wrapped in a towel to my head.

The one officer had been questioning Monique for the past ten minutes while Principal Jones attempted to placate the situation.

“She’s adamant on pressing charges,” I heard the officer say to the principal, and I smiled and nodded along. “Is there some way this could be resolved before this is taken any further?”

“Could you apologise to her, Monique?” Principal Jones whispered.

“Are you kidding me? After what she was saying?”

“I’m not advocating her words, Monique, but you assaulted her, in front of me! And everyone outside the office heard too. You’re going to be arrested unless we put a stop to this now.”

“But apologise…come on!”

They continued speaking for the next few minutes, but unfortunately Monique turned her back to me and I wasn’t able to make out what she was saying. However, eventually she turned, took a deep breath and came over to me with both a police officer and Principal Jones at her side.

“Umm, I’m sorry for the way I behaved.” She looked towards the floor and was fidgeting from foot to foot. Her fingers were linked above her podgy tummy and I almost lost it at the pathetic sight of this larger woman.

It was difficult to hide my smug grin, but I managed to do so while holding the ice against my scalp. “For permanently disfiguring me?” I pulled the ice away and pointed at my head. “I’m probably going to have a bald patch here for years to come.”

Monique looked up and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

I took that as an opportunity to pounce. “Did you hear that?” I screeched while looking between everyone. “She doesn’t even care.” I was pleased to see that the police officer was nodding along.

“Come on, Monique,” the principal said. “Just apologise and say you’re sorry. It’s not that difficult.”

“But she’s the one in the wrong! You heard everything she was saying.” She looked aghast between the three of us. “I should be the one pressing charges for being victim of a hate crime.”

Principal Jones lowered her voice, “Monique, you put your hands on her! There’s no defence for that. If she presses charges your career is over.”

My ears perked up at that. “To be honest, I don’t like her attitude. I think I will be pressing charges.”

“Are you sure that’s how you want to proceed?” The police officer asked. I could see there was an expression of resignation in his face; he wanted this over with as soon as possible and I was about to prolong his paperwork.

I glanced between the three of them, then when I noted the desperation in Monique’s eyes, for a moment I was hesitant. The current job climate was tough and she would be in a pretty precarious position joining the unemployed queue. The desperation gave me an idea and I almost trembled with excitement. “If she gets down on her knees and says she’s sorry, then maybe I’ll think about dropping it here.”

Monique’s eyes shot open in rage and she was about to say something, when Principal Jones raised a finger in the air. “Come on, Mrs Nicholson,” the older lady said. “We can resolve this without the need for such unnecessary gestures.”

I shrugged. “Well, that’s what it’s going to take.”

Principal Jones face was a picture of unimpressed experience. “I see what you’re doing. You’re just trying to antagonise her further.”

I leant forwards and straightened my back. All eyes were on me and I revelled in the power I clearly had. “If she doesn’t get down on her knees, right here, and beg for forgiveness, then I’m going to press charges just as she deserves. She assaulted me.” I pointed at the principal accusingly. “And you saw her do it!”

“Can she do that?” Monique asked horrified, while shooting the police officer a hopeful look.

“Well, I mean…” There was a pinkness in his cheeks as he spoke. “If you amicably sort things out between yourselves then there’s no need to proceed. How you do that is entirely up to you.”

“And if I don’t do it?” Monique asked, this time directing her question to Principal Jones.

Principal Jones let out an extended sigh. “If there’s a complaint against you, Monique, then you’ll be suspended pending investigation. But I mean, you assaulted her in front of everyone, so I’m fairly certain you’re going to be fired.”

“And possibly more, if charges are filed,” the police officer added. “Assault is a serious offence.” He glanced towards me and nodded sympathetically. “Looking at her injuries, maybe even a custodial sentence.”

I couldn’t hide my smile as Monique’s shoulders visibly sagged. I could see her thought process spiralling as she stewed on the spot before me. She glanced between everyone, then looked at the floor close to my feet.

“Get on your knees,” I said majestically while feeling totally in control. “And apologise for your behaviour.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

I leant forward and pointed at my bloodied scalp. “I’m sorry, Mrs Nicholson,” I corrected.

Monique closed her eyes and shook her head. Then she took a deep breath and repeated my words, “I’m sorry, Mrs Nicholson,” I added.

“This is what you get for teaching my son to drop to one knee during our national anthem for your ridiculous political agenda,” I added smugly. I adjusted my seating position and looked down my nose at her. “How does it feel?”

“Is there really any need–” Principal Jones tried to say, but I cut her off with a dagger-like glare.

“Yes, there is a need. I won’t believe she’s sorry until she shows me that she really means it.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Nicholson,” Monique said again, this time in a raised tone. I could tell that being on her knees was killing her, and that she wanted to get up and kick my ass, but I had all of the power, and I fully intended to put her in her place.

“Maybe I’ll believe you if you kiss my shoes–”

I couldn’t finish the sentence before Monique had tackled me to the ground.

I was stood on the school porch with Principal Jones as Monique was led away in handcuffs.

“Did you really have to handle it this way?” the principal asked.

I shrugged. “She had a chance to make things good?”

“By kissing your shoes? I can’t believe how unreasonable you’re being, Mrs Nicholson.”

I raised an eyebrow at her and scowled. “If you want me to keep paying your extortionate fees and gifting you those generous donations every year, then perhaps you’ll show me a little more respect. Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am and what I’m capable of.” Principal Jones’ lips remained tightly sealed, and I felt comfortable to push my wishes further. “I’m assuming she won’t be teaching here anymore?”

Her face looked grim. “Of course, she attacked you in front of a police officer. I don’t think she’ll be teaching anywhere.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Good.”

Principal Jones raised an eyebrow. “She was actually a good teacher, you know. There was no need for any of this. If you had a problem with her teaching style, then we could have settled all of this like adults.”

“What are you implying?” I snarled. “It’s settled now.”

“Mom, what happened to Ms Alexandra?” Bradley asked me the next day when I picked him up from school.”

“What do you mean?”

“She wasn’t in today. Some of the class said she ain’t gonna teach us no more.”

A self-satisfied smirk settled upon my lips. I ruffled his hair. “I don’t know, kid. Maybe the school decided she wasn’t a good teacher after all.”

“She was a great teacher!” he spat back. “I enjoyed her lessons.”

“Well, looks like you’re not going to be enjoying them anymore.”

There was a frown on his little face as he slumped off to his room, that annoyed me more than ever. Clearly Monique had got into his head and brainwashed him with her pathetic, liberal agenda. Thank God I had intervened and kept him on the correct path. Who knows where he would have ended up otherwise? Probably wearing masks and going on stupid protests.

“The less of her sort teaching our kids the better,” I said to my husband and he wrapped an arm around me and kissed my cheek.

“I’m proud of you,” he said. “There’s no messing with my wife, huh?”

I nodded and grinned.

After that day, Principal Jones pretty much danced to my tune. She knew she was dealing with a formidable wrecking ball and I could pretty much blow her little school apart any time I wanted. I had her on speed dial and she would answer immediately, desperate to pander to and resolve any of my concerns.

If Bradley’s grades were less than expected, it would only take a simple phone call and the threat of withdrawing our donations and the grades would be miraculously adjusted. A boy called Peter pipped Bradley to the spot of Joseph in the Christmas nativity show and I had him reassigned as the donkey. Bradley shone on the stage as he clutched Mary at his side. Bradley was also the captain of both the football and lacrosse teams.

Things couldn’t have been going any better, and as the year passed and the next Superbowl came around, I was pleased to see that Bradley remained standing for the national anthem. While we sang with pride, hand held to heart, my thoughts lingered to Monique. Was she down on one knee in a crappy apartment? Begging for her next unemployment benefit while still pushing her pathetic, liberal beliefs? I hoped she was, and beamed with pride that I was the one to have taught her how things were. That’s what happened when you crossed me; you ended up out in the cold.

“Where the hell is Carolina?” I screeched at my husband one morning. “She was supposed to be here by ten as usual.” I waved a hand around the kitchen. “Look at this mess.”

Eric shrugged. “Can’t you clean it yourself?”

My eyes narrowed. “You think I’m your maid or something?”

“Well, no,” he chuckled. “Obviously, Carolina is, but she ain’t here, is she?”

“She’s probably scurried off back across the border.”

Eric’s eyes flinched. “Come on, she’s a nice girl.”

“She ain’t that nice if she’s leaving me to clean up all this crap.”

He slipped his arms into his work jacket. “I’m just saying, it ain’t asking much for you to clean it up once, is it? I mean, what else are you doing today?”

“You forgetting who you are talking to? I was Miss Texas, remember?” I raised my hand and showed him my manicured fingers. “I ain’t doing no dirty dishes, that’s for sure.”

Eric rolled his eyes. He was used to my diva ways, but he knew what he was getting into when we had started dating. Being married to such a belle came with consequences. I lived by Marilyn Monroe’s words: if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best. He was lucky to have caught a girl such as myself and he darn well knew it.

“I’ll call the company and have a replacement sent over, alright?” He said, before kissing me on the cheek and opening the front door.

“You better,” I said with a smirk. “Otherwise you’ll be cleaning up when you come home.”

He raised his hands in surrender and backed away to his car with a chuckle.

It was about midday when there was a knock at the door. I’d been relaxing with my feet up while watching the real housewives of Texas. I grimaced and snarled through most of the scenes and at one point threw a chip at the screen. I’d actually applied to be on the show, which Eric had fumed about, but sadly the producer was an idiot and had picked a bimbo married to a Dallas Cowboy’s line-backer instead. I mean, what the hell? Eric ran multiple restaurants around the state and I was a former Miss Texas, and they reckoned we didn’t have the draw to appear on their stupid show? For sure the ratings would have skyrocketed if I’d been on there doing my thing. I could just imagine myself demanding freebies from all the small businesses around the state that would surely benefit from the publicity.

“Carolina, would you get that?” I shouted without looking away from the television. When another knock sounded out, I slammed down my plate of chips and went looking for the stupid girl. “Carolina, where you at?” It was only then I remembered that she hadn’t shown and I let out a sigh that I’d have to answer the door myself.

When I opened it, my jaw hit the floor. There was Monique, stood wearing the most ridiculous maid outfit and clutching a bucket filled with cleaning supplies. I was about to laugh when I realised I’d put her in that position, so instead, I raised my chin slightly and looked down my nose at her. “What you want?” I asked.

“Ma’am, I’m here to–” She abruptly stopped speaking when she looked up from her bucket and made eye contact with me. Immediately, a look of rage overtook her eyes, and I flinched for a moment thinking she was going to tackle me all over again, just as she had done back at the school. I was actually scared for a second, being all alone in the house, and I glanced around the street in search for a neighbour to play witness. But then, that defeat subdued those eyes, that same defeat I’d seen that day when Monique had dropped to her knees and apologised to me. She was so weak and it filled me with joy.

“Come on,” I said arrogantly. “You can get started on the upstairs bathroom immediately. I want it spick and span.” I smirked at her in victory. “You got that, girl?” I snapped my fingers and dismissively pointed towards the stairs before returning back to the lounge.

I didn’t even bother mentioning our previous confrontations, I mean, what was the point? I had won, as usual, and now Monique was just this pathetic maid. While I rested up and settled back into watching my favourite show, I thought about that proud woman who had marched into the principal’s office that day. She was gone, completely stamped out by my superior will and authority. All that was left was a hollow shell that was good for nothing other than cleaning my floors, right where she belonged. I couldn’t wait until Eric came home and saw my accomplishment. God, imagine Bradley’s surprise at seeing his former teacher with her stupid liberal ideas, now cleaning my toilet. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself.

However, as much as I attempted to appear dismissive of her presence in my house, it was just too funny and filled me with joy. I had to take a peek, I had to see the pathetic bitch down on here knees. So, I snuck upstairs and watched while Monique was scrubbing away at the tiles. Her large, fat ass was almost blocking the entire view, but I could still make out her silly little maid’s hat bobbing around on her head as she worked. Already there were sweat stains dripping beneath her arms and forming a line down the crack of her ass.

“You doing a good job?” I asked, startling her.

Monique remained on her knees, but turned and looked at me. She was about to say something, but must have thought better of it and instead just offered me a slight nod. I didn’t care, the shame in her eyes was enough for me and I was loving every minute of it.

I was feeling emboldened by Monique’s lack of spine, and while she scrubbed the bathroom floor, I took a step forwards and stood over her, watching with my arms crossed and pointing a manicured finger at various spots. “You missed a bit there, girl,” I said with glee.

The entire day was a complete hoot. I’d never had so much fun. I worked her so hard, pointing out all of the mistakes she was making and taking the opportunity to rub salt in her wounds every chance I got.

“No wonder you failed as a teacher if you can’t do something as simple as cleaning a toilet,” I said with venom while peering down the can.

Monique grunted in response, and I could see the rage in her eyes, but like a good girl, she bit her lip and didn’t say anything in response. I knew I was going to enjoy this so much going forwards. Eric would be phoning the company again, and booking Monique for a few times a week. Perhaps we could even book her full-time and have her scrubbing my floors on a daily basis. The thought actually made me tingle inside.

As the afternoon disappeared, Monique became an exhausted wreck, dancing to my tune from room to room. Eventually, she was finished up to my satisfaction. I’d worked her harder than I’d ever worked Carolina, and I intended to maintain that attitude going forwards with her. Oh, would she suffer for the ideas she’d try to ‘educate’ my son with. She would be learning the consequences of that going forwards for sure.

Around four, Monique came into the lounge and fidgeted on the spot. “I’m done,” she said.

I sat with my bare feet crossed up on the ottoman, each of my hands resting on the armrests of my chair. There was a smirk lifting the corner of my mouth and I loved she was stood in that pathetic maid uniform, in my house, all because of me. It actually made me tingle inside that I’d reduced her to this.

There was sweat soaked into the armpits of her grey uniform and her forehead glistened from the effort she’d put in. Still, I wasn’t about to praise her in any way.

“Well, I suppose your performance today was adequate,” I said, with a pronounced roll of my eyes. I leant over and grabbed my purse, plucking a few bills from inside. I counted them out one by one, until I reached a hundred dollars. “But, if you want to continue being my maid, then you’re going to have to really buck your ideas up.” I removed two twenties, and held out the remaining sixty dollars to her. “I’m docking you for having to be told how to clean properly all day long.” I looked at her manicured fingers while addressing her. “I feel like I did as much work as you with all of the instructions I needed to give you.” When she said nothing in response, I had the confidence to taunt her further. “You were a failure of a teacher, and now you’re a failure as a cleaner. Is there anything you’re actually good at?”

I knew I was being a complete bitch, but I loved it, and I could see in Monique’s eyes the hesitation and desperation which I fully intended to prolong. She wanted to rip my head off, but she needed the money after I’d reduced her to nothing but a maid. She glanced at the bills clutched in my pampered fingers, and her lips juddered as if she was about to say something, something defiant which was written all over her eyes. Yet, she bit her tongue, wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her uniform then reached out and greedily took her docked wages. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, while avoiding looking me in the eyes.

I had to cover my mouth to avoid a laugh. “How does it feel?” I asked, feeling completely emboldened. I could tell the more I pushed her, the easier it would be to humiliate her in future.

She looked up at me in confusion.

“To work as a maid for the person who had you fired.”

Monique avoided eye contact and slipped the money into her pocket. She collected her things in the bucket.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I nodded towards my crossed feet. “Just before I had you fired, I told you to kiss my shoes and apologise.” I smirked and clinked the ice in my drink. “Why don’t you get down on your knees and kiss my feet instead? Thank me for giving you another chance in life.”

There was a loud bang as the bucket clunked against the floor. “Right, bitch, I’ve had it up to here with your bullshit.” Monique held her hand up in line with her eyes. “All day you’ve been jabbing at me after you ruined my life, and I bit my tongue because I’m still on probation, because of you!”

I took a sip of my drink. “You better mind your tone with me then, unless you want me to pay a little visit to your probation officer.”

Monique screeched then stamped her foot in frustration, which was amusing, as her whole tubby belly jiggled. “I hate you,” she said.

“Why? You should be thanking me. You’re much better as a maid than a teacher.” I almost spit out my drink at the lightning pace of my wit.

There were tears in her eyes. “I loved that job and you ruined everything. I didn’t even do anything wrong.”

I shrugged. “You were filling my son’s head with your liberal nonsense.”

Monique’s tearful eyes shot wide open. “I was teaching him to be a decent human being, unlike you, and respect everyone of all cultures and backgrounds. Why is that such a crime?”

I shrugged again. “Because I didn’t like it.”

“That doesn’t mean I was wrong.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “You tried to get my son to drop to one knee, and look how that worked out for. You spent all day on your knee scrubbing my floors.” I grinned in victory at her. “Finally, you’ve found your place in life.”

“You know what.” Monique untied her apron and threw it on the floor. “I don’t even care anymore. I’m not cleaning another damn inch of your house, bitch.”

My eyes were wide at the gall of her, speaking to me in such a way in my own home. “Excuse me? Exactly who do you think you’re talking to right now?”

Monique straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I’m talking to the snooty bitch that has made my life miserable ever since the moment she walked into it. I’m not standing for it anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, you’re kneeling for it.”

Almost in a flash, Monique had reached over and grabbed a handful of my hair. I knew well enough from our encounter at the school that though her arms were chubby, there was plenty of muscle beneath. She harshly jolted my neck as she yanked on my beautiful, blonde hair, sending me tumbling from my chair into a heap on the floor. “Now who is the one on their knees, bitch?” she taunted me, while giving my hair another tug.

I squealed in response as my scalp felt like it was being shredded. “You’re going to pay for this so badly,” I said while trying to stabilise my hair in her grip. “You’ll be going to jail.”

Monique dropped to one knee and steered me down to the floor so that my cheek was flush with the carpet. “You think I care? I’ll take jail over cleaning your house any day of the week.” While keeping me held to the floor, she reached over with her free hand and fumbled with the laces of her sneaker. “We will see who is going to be kissing feet, bitch.”

“Don’t you fucking dare…” I said, my lips rubbing roughly against the carpet. I tried to struggle back against her, but she leant down and held my bundled hair against my neck. With the weight of her plump body, I didn’t have a hope in hell of shifting her and I was left plastered to the floor. “Get the hell off me you fat hoe.”

There was suddenly an intense, pungent odour and my eyes darted about in disbelief. Had that ugly hoe actually taken her stinking shoe off in my house? “That smell better not be what I think it is,” I said through gritted teeth. Even held to the floor, I managed to reach up and clamp my nose with my fingers.

“That’s the smell of hard work,” Monique said. “From cleaning your damn house all morning.”

Before I realised what was happening, Monique’s socked foot came into view and I could see her toes wiggling through the damp material. The white cotton was grey from the dirt and sweat that had built up. I released my nose and reached out to grab her foot, but Monique used her other hand to grab my wrist. My free hand was trapped beneath my hip and the floor, and I realised at that moment I was completely helpless. Instinctively, I attempted to screw my face up and cower away, however, her grip remained firm on my neck and there was no way for me to wriggle free. I was left staring at the disgusting sole of her socked foot as it neared my face right up until the moment she worked my nose into the sweaty groove beneath her toes. I closed my eyes and held my breath.

“How’s that smell, bitch?” Monique taunted me, yet I had no answer at that point as I was becoming light-headed from holding my breath. I could feel the heat growing in my cheeks and I tried as much as I could to avoid breathing in, but eventually my lungs gave out and I inhaled the full-on cheesy odour of Monique’s disgusting sweaty sock. I immediately groaned in disgust and burst into a coughing fit.

While I wretched on the floor, I could hear Monique cackling to herself and I imagined her belly jiggling around while tears were squeezed out above her chubby cheeks. “That’s it, smell my darn foot,” she said, while grinding her sock into my face and clutching my nose between her stinky, socked toes. I had no choice but to smell again, and as I was overcome in a sort of anxiety induced panic attack, I took rapid breaths, each of which was laced with the stink of Monique’s foot sweat.

I couldn’t believe where I was right at that moment. Everything had happened so fast that I could barely comprehend it. I thought back to our school confrontation, where I had Monique down on her knees and had completely put her in her place. I’d taunted her to the point that she’d lashed out and lost her job. Yet, here I was, down on the floor and being taunted at the foot of the very woman who I had previously subdued.