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Wednesday
February 15, 2012
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  >> Campfire Creative >> Short Story >> Drama >> ID #1147501  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Moving On
Two poverty-stricken siblings are forced to leave their home for monetary reasons.
Rated:
ASR
by
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[Introduction]
Cody and his older sister have been living in the family house since their parents were killed last year. Last Tuesday, a notice was left on the door ordering them to pay up the past due rent in one week or vacate the premesis. Six days have passed and neither has any idea where they are going to go or what they are going to do.
Thomas    "Quit playing with your stupid cars and help me with the clothes," Cody's sister said to him before stomping up the stairs. She held a round plastic clothes-basket with both arms.

"I don't want to." He smirked and continued playing with his toys. "And anyway, why should I listen to you? You can't do anything. We're both gonna be homeless ya know."

She sighed and set down the basket. Moments like these reminded her of how much she still missed her mom. "Look, we're going to be OK," she said, enunciating the word going. Even when trying to comfort her kid brother, she couldn't resist correcting his terrible grammar.

"We're gonna be homeless bums." He started crashing his cars into each other. "Tomorrow I gotta play outside. This is my last chance to play in here."

She wiped away a tear. She opened her mouth to reassure him again but nothing came out. Ever since their mom and dad died, she knew her and Cody were going to be fine. Even after the landlord left that callous message on the door, she believed someone would come and help them out. Nobody came.

She picked back up the basket and climbed the stairs. On the final step she stopped and turned around. "You'll see," she said in little more than a whisper. She only wished she believed it herself.

writeone    At fifteen, Savannah felt like she was forty - at least, she believed she knew what it would be like. For a moment, she wondered about her own longevity. If she felt forty in her teens, would her body believe it was older than it really was and just give out early?

When she shook her head to dispel the negative thoughts, she nearly mistepped at the landing. After she caught herself, steadying the basket with one knee while she gripped the oak bannister with her right hand, tingles of adrenaline flooded her limbs.

"We won't be okay if I break my neck on these stairs."

At the top of the landing, the hallway split: the left side going into Cody's old bedroom, the right side leading into her room. She sighed and turned left, setting the basket on the hard wood floor outside Cody's closed door. She turned the knob and walked into the room.

It was bare and clean. White sheers covered the windows, muting the late afternoon light. Chunky cars in bright primary colors traveled across the painted blue walls. Savannah walked to the closet, just to take one last look to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything. The click when the latch caught again echoed in the room. She tried not to remember the rocking chair her mother once sat in, rocking Savannah's baby brother to sleep. She failed and swallowed hard to supress the tightness creeping up the back of her throat.

She closed the bedroom door, picked up the basket and headed back to her room. The double mattress lay directly on the floor; the crazy quilt draped across it, corners tucked, pillows fluffed. Savannah sat on the floor in front of the two old army backpacks she salvaged from her father's footlocker in the basement. She separated her clothes from Cody's and placed them, still folded, into the backpacks.

Her hands lingered on the backpacks, traced her father's name on the pea green strap and thought back over the last year.

Kids at Washington High School dropped out all the time. The school officials were too preoccupied with red tape, segregation issues and the influx of drugs to notice Savannah was gone. One month after her parent's death, Savannah lied about her age to obtain a job as a cashier at the Grab-N-Go Food Mart. Even with her employee discount, she struggled to keep food on the table. Clothes were easy. Savannah waited until one hour before the church bazaars closed up. She learned early the clothes went cheaper then since no one really wanted to lug the castoffs home again. But food ... now that was something else.

When she stopped receiving government checks from her father's veteran's plan, she had no choice but to sell off the furniture. Cody didn't seem to mind. He moved into Savannah's room and, with less furniture upstairs and down, he had a wider arena for his matchbox cars.

Two months ago, she ran out of furniture. That's when the landlord's letters starting coming.

Because of her pride, Savannah could not bear to ask for help; because of her love, she refused to lose her brother to foster care.

She put her hands on her denim clad knees and nodded her head at the slumped-over packs.

"So, that's it."

Supper for tonight would be canned tuna on bread. Her brother would get the two bruised apples she salvaged from the throw-away produce bin at work. She would go to the Grab-N-Go for the last time tomorrow and use two-thirds of her remaining check to stock up on food for the trip. Her aunt in Macon would take them in. At least, Savannah prayed she would.

Thomas    Of course they could always accept the proposal that old Mr. Richardson had made.

Savannah thought back to the night he showed up at the door with his look-at-me suit. It was dark gray, pinstriped, and pressed so smooth she wondered if it were merely painted on.

He carried his briefcase as though it contained one of his vital organs and he enunciated the beginning of each word as though he believed that he alone truly understood how to pronounce words. "Your situation has come to my attention," he said as she wondered if she were fast enough to slam the door and lock it at the same time.

"Our situation is fine," she responded, hoping she sounded convinced.

"That may very well be, but my sources suggest otherwise."

Sources? she thought. Who does this guy think he is? Our business is our business. "Well, your sources are wrong. My brother and I are just fine." She realized her mistake as soon as she said it. She could only hope that this upright couch wouldn't notice.

"You and your brother? So it is just the two of you then."

Dammit! I've got to get rid of this guy now "Look, Mr..."

"Richardson. Daniel J. Richardson the third." The way he said the word "third" made her cringe.

"Mr. Richardson. I'm sure you mean well, but my brother and I are fine. We're going to go live with our aunt."

Mr. Richardson tilted his head and squinted at Savannah. He didn't remember reading anything about an aunt. According to his notes, the kids were completely without family. "Savannah," he began. At the sound of her name, at the realization that this stranger knew an awful lot about them, she started to shake. "Lying is a very naughty thing to do. Especially for a young lady of your age."

"I'm not lying," she said and moved to slam the door. "And I don't need help from anyone like you." She slammed the door, fully expecting him to thwart her attempt. He didn't. She wondered if she'd been too hard on him. She wondered, but something about the man still made her shiver.

Luxe    The next day started out normal, Savannah's walked quickly to work, she wasn't worried about her brother, he was still in school. All morning she couldnt help but think about Mr.Richardson, how and why did he know so much about them? She wanted to stop to think and figure out some explination, but she had to be focused and on time for her job. That job was what would keep her and Cody stable. The wind blew and she drew her sweater tighter around her. The morning was like any other, people rushed in to grab a overpriced morning coffee and paper on their way to work. It wasn't in till noon that something happened. At first, Savannah barely noticed the girl. She stood out side wearing dark baggy jeans and a sweatshirt that was about 16 sizes too big, her head was bent towards the wind, blowing back her brown uncombed hair; she was counting her money. The girl stood 5'7" and was incredibly thin, as if she hadn't eaten in a few days, the over sized clothes only magnified how small she was for a girl of her height. When she walked into the store Savannah marveled at how confident and casual she seemed, but not cocky. Suddenly the door to the store was yanked open, and a boy even taller than her walked in.

"Hey, Vivian, tanks' full don't take forever." he said grabbing a pack of cigaretts and slapping them down on the counter. He pulled out some crumpled money from his pocket and paid for them with ones. But Vivian had disappeared,

"Hey! Excuse me young lady!" A worker called. Realization flooded over the boys face and Vivian made a mad dash for the door, as she zipped up her sweatshirt.

"Savannah stop her!" the worker yelled, out of fear Savannah hesitated. She got to the door in time to see a pickup truck pulling away, several kids were in the back laughing and leaning over the tailgate to help pull in Vivian and the boy.

"Thanks kid!" Vivian laughed. Savannah froze realizing she had just let that girl, Vivian, go with out a fight, she slowly turned to face the other worker, her boss.


© Copyright 2006 Thomas, writeone, Luxe, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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