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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1261526-A-Long-Way-From-Home
by Grimmy
Rated: 13+ · Other · Action/Adventure · #1261526
Sometimes, strangers have the best advice.
"Momma, can you make me lunch?"
It's three in the afternoon, the sun outside is blazing and I'm hungry. I haven't eaten at all today, been busy helping Papa outside picking avacados off of a large avacado tree. The green fruits (or veggies, I ain't sure which one it is) had to be picked and washed off. Papa did the picking, he's tall enough to reach farther up into them trees. I can just barely reach over the sink to wash em' off.
About lunch. I'm thinking about having a turkey sandwich with some mustard and tomatoes, and maybe a little lettuce, on top of whole wheat bread. Mmm, I can taste it already.
Besides, all this thinking about what to have for lunch is makin' my stomach growl even more.
"Momma," I whine, as she turns her back to me, talking wildly to someone on the phone. "I'm hungry!"
She doesn't reply, she's too busy chatting away. I can't ask Papa to make it for me, he don't know how to cook or nothin. Neither do I, or my lil sis. So Momma's got to make it. She's got to.
Four or five seconds later, I whine again. "Momma!" I say a little bit louder, tears swelling up in my eyes (it's odd, I don't wanna cry...I think). "I want to eat some lunch!"
I hear her murmur into the phone, "Hold on a sec, Margie..." And she turns towards me. She says angrily, and irritated (to say in the least), "Leave me alone for a half an hour, Jimmy! Make your own goddamn lunch!"
Though I'd often heard Momma say "bad" words before, she'd never said em' to my face. Usually she'd say them on the phone to other people. But never, EVER to me.
Momma wants to be mean to me by not making my lunch? Fine. I'll run away. That'll show her.
Tears jumped out of my eyes, and I dashed out of the kitchen. I hurry to my room, glance around for a bag, to where I find one of my older red ones, throw a few pairs of clothes in the bag, some of my favorite toys, and a few other things, including a few toiletries, as my toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. I zip up the bag, which is about half-ways full, and run out of the house.
I'm not quite sure where Papa is, but I make my way through the avacado trees. I don't see Papa, so that's a good thing. I'm actually making good time, considering there is a mile's worth of avacado trees. Though I'm running, I'm dodgin' the trees pretty smoothly. I haven't ran into a tree yet!
I clutch the bag onto the side of my shoulder as though wearing it if it were a school backpack.
I stop. A small cabin house I come upon, the house a nice little sanctuary for the residents. I grin, thoughts coming into my mind such as "Whoever lives here will probably let me stay here for awhile...who could say no to a cute little six year old boy who's run away from home?" and others like "What if they, besides saying no to letting me live with them, take me back to my real home?" I'm not sure what to do.
Suddenly, large, GIGANTIC dogs bark at me, their sharp teeth shining when the dogs open their mouth to growl at me. Scared, I back up, my fingers gripping onto my sack tightly. "Good dogs," I whisper.
A fifty or so old man walks out of his house, yelling, "Come on, Bubba, leave our visitor alone!"
My eyes bulge open in surprise as the dog backs off quickly, returning to his owner. "Good boy," The older man pets his dog.
The man looks up at me. "Ello," He says cheerfully.
"Hi," I reply, staring at his dog. "That dog almost killed me!" I exclaim.
Laughing, the man said, "Bubba? Hardly! He wouldn't even hurt a fly!"
I can't help but grin.
"So what are you doin' out here by yaself?" The man questions.
Okay, this is it. "I ran away from home."
With not a single expression on his face, the man inquires more. "Why'd you do somethin like that?"
"Cuz," I said, harshly. "Momma wouldn't make me lunch and cursed at me."
Chuckling once more, the man said firmly, "Now, boy, that ain't no reason to run away from home. Home is home. Yo momma was probably just in a bad mood. Ya should try to work things out with her, by going back. She's prolly worried sick 'bout you at the moment if she don't know that you wanted to run away."
"I didn't tell her," I say quietly.
"Well then," The old man said. "What are you waiting for?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never saw that man again.
© Copyright 2007 Grimmy (lilcookyball at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1261526-A-Long-Way-From-Home