My parents and I sleep on the crates with cloth over them so they look like beds, so my little siblings have a better place to sleep; this helps my parents accept the situation better. My parents and I make some things worse for us so that my little siblings have it better. It’s been this way since 1929, when I was six. This all started 12 years ago.
I like to stay away from my family because it can just get awkward, with my siblings Sandra and Jem I’m supposed to act happy like there is nothing is wrong and this is how things are supposed to be, but with my parents I know how things truly are so being around them after the kids go to bed it gets really depressing. Mom cries a lot of the time because she feels ashamed that she couldn’t give use the life she always wanted and dad holds her when this happens but otherwise he doesn’t show much emotion and it looks like he mentally hurts himself because he can’t do much about our situation and he feels like he isn’t protecting his family. I feel like I get forgotten sometimes but I understand the situation so I never complain; I love my mom and dad and know they are doing their best with the horrible situation that we are in and I thank them for staying and keeping us. My friend Ellen, her parents sent them to live with some other relatives but they found out later that their mom sent them away because their dad had committed suicide and she didn’t want to tell them; she didn’t look like she knew what to do because women had not done much with taking care of a family with an actual laborious job.
I like to go for walks sometimes because we live in such a rural area that it can make it easier to forget that we are in bad times; at least, until my stomach begins to growl at me. I get up to go tell my parents that I would like to go for a walk and I go in to the kitchen, which is made up of a bowl in the sink so mom can clean dishes if we even happen to have any, a fridge with little to nothing in it, and a small table with three chairs for us kids. My parents were talking at the table but stopped as soon as I walked in and they looked at me. “What’s going on?’’
“Honey we need to talk to you about something really important.” My mom informed me. I walked over to the table and sat down with them, dad had turned his attention completely on me, “You know how that big war is going on across the seas?” my dad asked me.
“Yeah.” I said timidly because now I’m starting to worry because I’m really hoping that my dad isn’t going to tell me that America has joined the war and now he has to leave us, we are barely getting by with him and we would probably perish without him.
“We want you to know that if anything happens we may leave you in charge of the kids if Mom and I have to go somewhere. We don’t know if any of them will attack us but we need you to be prepared and need to show you where to go if anything does happen, okay?” I nod my head to show that I understand because I didn’t trust my voice, them talking like this really scares me because it sounds like they are talking about me protecting the kids for if they die.
After my parents showed me to a place in the basement and told me what to do if anything happened, they showed me where they have one bag of crackers has been stashed just in case we get really hungry. When we got done we went back up stairs and they asked to be left alone so they could talk some more, I asked if I could go for my walk and Mom nodded her head. Walking out side I see my siblings, “Sandra, Jem! You two need to go inside and get ready for bed. But don’t disrupt Mom and Dad they are talking.”
“But where are you going Elizabeth?” my eight year old sister asked with a quiet voice that one can barely hear.
“I’m going for a quick walk to clear my head, I will be in soon to help tuck you guys in, and I promise I won’t take long.”
“Will you tell us a story? I love it when you tell us stories!” Jem asked enthusiastically. I smiled and nodded, “Yes of course I will.”
They ran to the house and I started my short walk; I have a small memory of what this place use to look like, it was an open prairie with wild flowers going in random spots to make it look beautiful but now it looks like we are in a desert. As I passed my neighbor’s house half a mile away I saw Mr. Jacobs slump out of the house flowed by yelling, “Bill you better not be leaving us! Get your ass back in here and take this like a man! This is your family and you need to be here for it!”
YOU ARE READING
Daddy's Not Here
Historical FictionA young girl's heart stays strong for her family from in the 1930's.