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Rated: E · Short Story · Inspirational · #2331094
Young boy sees what thanksgiving is all about
         Wrapping his 11-year-old mind around what Mom just said, Tyler grinned. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to have Thanksgiving with Mawma and Pawpa.

         “Paul, I’m not so sure about having the Christmas party here. I don’t think there will be room and the caterers need more outlets.”
Mom was already talking to Dad, so I didn’t interrupt, I just nodded and smiled.

          “Already took care of that hon, we’ll be having it at Maggie's Restaurant, the nice new one downtown.”

Dad was already moving us toward the door. I grabbed my basketball and couple books for something to do at Mawma’s.
Last time there I had found somebody had put up a hoop and backboard in the alley. I guessed being so cold and a holiday it would be empty and I could shoot a few.

It was a 2-hour ride to Mawmas and Mom and Dad talked about the Christmas party the whole way. I tried to take a nap but sometimes their discussion got loud.

         Once at Mawma’s house, all my uncles and aunts were already there. Mawmas’ house was a wonderful place to explore sometimes. The smell alone was different in every room.
         Being the only kid in the family made it easy for me to wander around without really being noticed. The house was warm and had that great home-cooking smell.
         Of course, everyone was in and out of the kitchen. Mom and my aunts were talking about the Christmas party and how much new dresses would cost and what shoes to wear with what clothes. Mawma and I just sort of rolled our eyes and let them talk.
          Mawma handed me a warm cookie and I gladly took it, moving toward the living room. One was saying how much he loved his new RV and was glad my Dad had suggested that particular one. My other Uncle joined in with plans for all three families to meet in the spring at some park I had never heard of.
Every so often one of them would look at the TV and make some comment about their team losing the game. Boring for me but I did mingle a little so I didn’t feel so bad when I grabbed my basketball and headed out the backdoor.

         “I’ll holler for you for dinner so don’t go far and be listening,” Mom said as I pulled the door shut and stepped out into the cold air.
Through the small yard and into the alley I was finally away from all the adult talk for a while.

Just a few door down, on a telephone pool was the dilapidated backboard and bent hoop. Bouncing the ball and moving a round a bit more to warm up then moving in toward the hoop for a simple layup. Catch the rebound and bounce up again and into the hoop. Getting good and warm bouncing around was getting a little tiring so my aim was off a few times. Once way past the hoop and hit a dumpster pretty hard.

         “OH!”

The voice startled me and I froze and looked around to see where it came from. Seeing nothing I picked up the ball that had rolled back to me and bounced on the ground and against the dumpster to grab and head for the hoop. Like it had been passed to me. But when the ball hit the dumpster again,

         “OH!” I heard a girl's voice coming from the big green dumpster.

         Opening the side door of the dumpster and peering in, there's a dirty-looking doll against the corner and garbage all around. The doll was a girl. Her face was bruised and dirty, and her clothes were torn. She looked like she had been in a fight. She seemed to be clutching something to her chest.

         “Go away!”, she said, sobbing. “Leave us be! Please!"

Pulling my head out of the dumpster, I hear Mom down the alley calling for me. I turn and start back down the alley and see Mom step into the ally. I ran up to her, and pulled her and tried to explain at the same time as we approached the dumpster door again
.
She opens the side door and gasps,

         “Oh, my lord!! Let me help you out of there!”

At first the lady wanted to argue but soon the argue was all out of her and she gratefully let Mom help her and her baby out of the dumpster.

         “Please please don’t report me I was only trying to be safe with my baby. Please don’t tell.” she sobbed as Mom helped her down the ally.

         “I had no where else to go nowhere to turn.” gasping

         “Only wanted a covered place for the baby last night.”

The lady told mom, finding the partially empty dumpster was all she and the baby had for shelter that night. Grabbing my ball and tucking under one arm I helped by being on one side of the lady as we moved down the alley back to the house.

         Everyone was already in the dining room when we came in. Sitting and waiting for Mom and me, discussing what ever they looked up sort of shocked. Here we stood with a young, dirty and bruised lady with a baby. Dad jumped up and helped her to set down. Mom said sternly to take control I believe,

         “We need to say grace then we can eat and hear her story if she would like to tell us.”

         Pulling up a chair for herself and I moved to my side of the table and took my seat. Dad said grace and we all started filling our plates. Mom urged the lady to do the same even helping her put helpings on her plate.

         After a sort of quiet dinner, the lady told us of how her husband had started abusing her after the baby was born. He wouldn’t let her do anything and cut her away from her friends and family. Then he started hitting on her, blaming her for small mistakes and such. Finally last night she had had enough and snuck out of the house with the baby. Having no one to contact or anywhere to go, she found the partly empty dumpster and climbed in. Right where we found her some 10 hours later.

         Everyone decided at the same time that they would help her. My uncle said she could stay in his RV till she makes other arrangements and Mom and my aunts promised to help with the baby and food. They all would help her contact people that do help the abused and help her get her life in order.
Not one of the family complained again that day.

FROM THE AUTHOR:
Abuse is a horrible thing. Any kind with any people. It can lead to broken families and dysfunctional people even.
No person has the right to physically or mentally control or hurt another person. If anything like this is occurring Please seek help. Someone will take up your gauntlet. Just ask.
© Copyright 2024 Ichabod Crane-- Mince Pie (mwayne at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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