The door to the Boonchuy residence opened, then closed once again as a mature, tanned woman stepped through, breathing a heavy sigh. She reached behind herself and undid her apron, folding it up and placing it on the coat rack for the rime being before slumping down on a decorated couch.
“Goodness…” Mrs. Boonchuy lamented, finally relaxing as the tension in her body left her. “The restaurant was busier than its ever been. I don’t even know if I have the energy to keep up with it anymore, especially now that Anne has gone back to Amphibia...”
To the outside observer it may appear as though the mature Mrs. Boonchuy were simply speaking to herself, or whether the loneliness of losing her daughter for a second time had finally made her break. But rest assured, she was not alone.
Knowingly, Mrs. Boonchuy smiled down at her feet. Her signature pink Crocs had a series of holes lining the surface, allowing a quality aeration to keep her feet relatively moist and sweat-free. However, the very sole of the shoe had no such luxury, and after a long day of working the counter and cooking the food, she knew better than… almost anyone precisely how saturated the sole of this shoe tended to become after a hard day’s work.
Mrs. Boonchuy propped her left foot up on her knee, bones creaking slightly as her age threatened to catch up with her. She gripped it with her right hand, feeling the slight, moist pop as the suction from her tight foot was released, finally allowing the fresh airflow of the immigrant household to wash over the raspy blonde young girl adhered to the insole from the accumulated, dried up sweat.
Sasha gasped and choked as brightness flooded into her eyes. It was only now as fresh air entered her nose for the first time was she reminded of how much sweeter it tasted compared to the rank scent of being within Mrs. Boonchuy’s shoe. She coughed, the blinding gaze of the light making it difficult to adjust, until the softly-smiling brown face of Mrs. Boonchuy slowly came into focus. Her foot was just to the side of Sasha’s purview, an entity that made Sasha’s heart race every time it slightly twitched its toes, toes that Sasha knew very well the power of.
“P...p-please!!!” Sasha shrieked up at the woman. “Get me the hell out of here!”
“Nuh-uh,” Mrs. Boonchuy replied, waggling her finger. “It doesn’t sound to me like you learned your lesson. Do you know how much trouble you put my baby girl through?”
“Yes!” Sasha heaved, trying to free her arms from being practically pinned beside her, still glued to the sole as the shoe itself was angled, allowing Sasha a proper view of her current owner. “I know, I was wrong! And I hurt Anne… and I’m sorry! I learned my lesson! I won’t use people again!”
“Yes you won’t. And you know how I know?”
Sasha didn’t say anything, and Mrs. Boonchuy pouted at the lack of cooperation. She sighed again and then continued, “Because… You’re going to learn what how it feels like when you’re the one who is used. Isn’t that right? In fact… I think I’ll go for a walk before my husband gets home. As long as you’re down there, I feel like I can stay on my feet much longer than usually.” Mrs. Boonchuy winked as Sasha panicked.
“N-no! Stop! Don’t --” Sasha’s screams were cut off as the colossal wall of the pink Croc shoe came her way again. Her survival instinct overriding her desire to beg, Sasha took in a great gulp of fresh air, the last taste of outside oxygen she would be seeing for at least another hour as Mrs. Boonchuy affixed the shoe to the bottom of her foot.
“There we go,” Mrs. Boonchuy smiled, planting her foot down on the floor and standing up, grabbing her jacket as she headed to the door.
Once Anne returned from Amphibia, then perhaps they could chat a bit about Sasha’s punishment. Maybe. If Mrs. Boonchuy felt like it. That was a problem for later, though. Now, Mrs. Boonchuy prepared to stomp out the door, every step she took in drowning that manipulative little weasel in her perspiration feeling like nothing but pure bliss.