IF THE TRUTH BE KNOWN

IF THE TRUTH BE KNOWN
by
Terry Burres

{Autor's note: This won an Honorable Mention in the September 2006 round of the Muse's Alley Short Story contest}


Before I begin, I would like to thank our hostess for giving me chance to address ya’ll here in the studio audience, as well as those people watching on TV. The last ten days has been just loaded with half truths, speculation and just out and out lies. I am ever so grateful to have the opportunity to set the record straight.

If ya’ll believe all the vicious things that have been written about the unfortunate events that happened at our home in the woods a week ago Thursday then you believe the headlines. The ones like - “Mama arranges for girls to share son’s bed!”, Rubbish!! ; “Father stalks son’s girl friend!”, Hardly!! “; or even, “The house was a total mess, said the visitor”, Please!!. If ya’ll believe any of that then do I have a nice ocean view lot to sell you.

I was fixing my guys a hot breakfast. I had set the bowls on the table when Papa let out a groan and grabbed for his glass. After a long drink he told me that the cereal was too hot. Papa suggested that we leave it to cool and go for a walk. He said that he knew where we could find some ripe strawberries to go with breakfast. Then he winked at our son, Jr. and I knew that we would be taking a walk into the woods. I grabbed my berry basket and headed out.

Now I guess that we were gone about an hour. We would have been back sooner but for Jr. He just had to show Papa how he could catch a fish bear handed. I declare that he was a sight after he fell into the creek time and time again. We laughed so at the sight of his antics. By the time we reach the cottage I stopped Jr. to wipe him clean. Papa had taken the berries inside to wash them to eat with our breakfast. He had hardly stepped in the kitchen when he let out a roar of rage.

Rushing to the door I almost slid into Papa. I peeped around him, and saw a sight that I can hardly describe. Our neat little kitchen looked like the cereal pot had exploded. There was cold globs of oats everywhere! Pap’s bowl was turned on it’s side and the cereal oozed in a stream across the table where it slid to the floor. My bowl was sitting in a pool of the sticky mess. I didn’t see my fancy silver spoon that I always use in the mornings. Jr's bowl was the only one that stood on the table like it was meant to be. There was nothing in the bowl but his spoon. All of his cereal was Gone! Not just gone, but scraped clean as a whistle.

I was so upset that I started for the parlor to sit for a moment. I had to stop at the door and stare. There was a cozy little sitting room all in a shambles. Papa’s chair was such a mess. There were his pillows all over the floor. His little foot stool laid on its side. It was unbearable. I’m telling you if I was a weak little pansy. I would have started bawling right then and there, but I couldn’t help looking around the rest of the room. My chair’s pillows spilled onto the floor. The quilt that I kept to cuddle with was in a snarl under the chair. The worse, by far, was that the chair that Jr. had had since he was a baby was a scattered jumble all over the room.

I started to swoon. Papa took me by the arm to help me into the bed room. There we stood in the door way of our room in utter shock. The room was in total chaos. The feathers from the pillows covered every surfaces. The beds that were neatly made earlier that morning looked as if a herd of monkeys had used our beds as a trampoline.

The door to Jr’s room was open and he ran over to tug us inside. Jr’s room was as neat as a pin. The only thing out of place was a lump in his bed. A tangle of pale curls escaped from under his blankie.

I reached down tugging the blankie from the top of the bed. There was a little girl, looking like an angel, asleep in Jr’s bed. Jr’s growl of a laugh woke her up. With her eyes as big as saucers she jumped up, ran for the window, and then she was running down the path just as quick as a jack rabbit. Papa followed her from the cottage to make sure she didn’t get lost again.

There, ladies and gentleman, is the truth behind the yellow rag stories. I just knew that if the truth be known all this ugly gossip could be put behind us. So now you know the whole truth. Thank ya’ll for your time and attention.