The rumble came again only louder. It wasn’t the old geezer
tossing him out, it was Ben’s stomach. Four days, it was four days ago his mama
had left him at the station.
She left him behind, telling him to sit and wait. She would
be right back with the tickets. They’d go to Virginia to live with his aunt. Mama never
came back from the ticket booth. Her carpetbag was gone. All Ben had was his
small pack and the Bible she gave him.
Dawn was breaking. He needed to get out before the old man
really did catch him. Quietly, Ben made his way to the street and around the
backs of the buildings. Maybe he could find a scrap of something. Anything he
was so hungry.
His insides felt like they were shriveling up as he stopped
at the rain barrel by the inn. Cupping his hands he took a few long drinks to
try and fill the void.
As he splashed water on his face a scent drifted down the
alleyway. Ben’s stomach clenched with hunger as the scent filled his nostrils
with one of his favorite things in the world.
Fresh baked bread was somewhere close, very close. He
sniffed at the air and turned down the alley. He followed the smell, stomach
growling loud enough to make the stray dog napping in the shade raise his head.
Ben stopped at the window there they were. Three fresh baked
loaves of bread. The steam was still rising off the tops. His tongue licked
along his bottom lip as he took a step forward to get a deeper breath of it.
Something hit him on the back. Mr. Grove the owner of the
inn shook the broom he’d just walloped Ben with. “Get, you urchin. Take your
filthy self back to the gutters.”
Didn’t he recognize him? His mama had done some work at the
inn. “Mr. Grove, sir… “
Before Ben could finish the broom was raised again. He
raised his little skinny arms and ran back down the alley.
The innkeeper satisfied the boy was gone went back to
sweeping the stoop.
Ben sat behind a barrel and rubbed his lower back. He could
still smell the bread. It made his mouth water. If he didn’t eat something soon
he’d turn to dust and blow away.
He could feel it in his hands warm with a crispy crust and
soft fluffy inside. It would melt in his mouth as he took a bite.
The sound of the inn’s back door closing made him open his
eyes. Mr. Grove had gone back inside. There wasn’t anyone in the alley.
He crawled on his hands and knees to sit under the window so
he could smell the bread. His belly ached to the point of tears now. Ben was so
hungry. He could take it. There were two more loaves. They surely wouldn’t miss
one.
No, he couldn’t take it. He didn’t have no money and
stealing was a sin. Ben’s mama always told him to be good. Be a good boy and
grow into a good man. He couldn’t do that if he stole. That would make him bad.
Lifting his face up, he could feel the warmth from the fresh
loaves. If he didn’t eat soon he wouldn’t make it past the age of eight to
become any kind of man.
Stomach tight with hunger Ben raised his arms up and grabbed
the edge of the cheesecloth. Slowly he pulled it toward him.
Mrs. Grove called out to her husband startling Ben. He
jerked his arms back and hugged his knees waiting for the innkeeper to come
back with the broom. Nothing happened.
Mrs. Grove went back to humming.
Sitting there had become torture, he didn’t want to make his
mama angry. What if she came back and found him with the stolen bread. She’d
have his hide for sure.
Ben looked up at the loaf. It had been four days since he
saw his mama last at the station. She wasn’t coming back, no one was going to
help him. He had to help himself.
He stood stomach aching and growling as his breath panted
with fear and excitement. Before he could change his mind again Ben reached out
and grabbed a loaf of bread. He took off running as fast as he could behind the
buildings.
Turning a corner he ran to the ladder of the livery loft and
climbed up. Hiding behind a stack of hay bales he hugged the loaf to his chest.
It was still warm and smelled so good. He was panting still from his run.
Waiting for someone to catch him.
When there were no shouts he began to relax and looked down
at the bread. Ben licked his lips as his fingers dug into the crust and it
apart. Steam flowed out as he pulled a hunk of the soft white fluff into his
mouth.
Tears rolled down his face as he ate. His belly hurt from
not having anything this solid in so long then it started to feel full. That
feeling was the best thing he’d ever felt. He wasn’t a good boy anymore. Maybe
he wouldn’t be a good man but he wouldn’t be hungry again.
God! reading this hurt so much, it got me thinking of all the stray kids that are filling the streets these days now that the economy in my country has taken a turn to the worse. I actually contemplated Hunger as my poem title for the day but changed my mind, apparently because you did a better job with it :)
ReplyDeleteBlog: I Will Never Give you UP
Link: https://haneenwrites.blogspot.com/2018/04/the-last-voyage-hope-atozchallenge.html