Chasing the Sky

Chapter 1- Sweet Innocence

His bare feet pounded upon the soft bed of the open field, he laughed for no reason except for the joy of living, and he collapsed onto a bed of blossoms, staring up into the endless blue sky. It stretched out over the plain, and he couldn't help but think about how everybody else in the world looked at the same sky as he did. Humphrey closed his eyes and felt the warm embrace of the air around him, which smelled the wonderful smell of dirt and grass. The long, tall grass waved to Humphrey as a cool breeze swept by, tingling his toes through the holes in his old, tattered shoes. It combed loving fingers through his matted, ungroomed hair. And Humphrey couldn't help but wonder how anyone could be depressed on a day like this, and here he was, living during the Great Depression.

Nobody in America noticed the crystal clear skies, or the felt the warm embrace of the wind. All they noticed was the stock market and what everybody else had to say on the heap of paper that landed on their front porch during breakfast. Humphrey didn't understand why anybody would want to read so many words when they could be doing so much more. Reading was hard, and Humphrey was always snickered at by the other children when he was called on to read aloud at school. The only part of the newspaper he cared about were the funnies, which his father always gave to him once his eyes were unglued off the articles.

Humphrey thought about things as he laid there, things such as Cowboys and Indians, and Soldiers who fought in war, and how hungry he was at the moment. His mind drifted off into a little boy's fantasy, and he didn't even realize his mother calling him in for lunch.

"Humphrey, if I have to holler for you one more time, you won't get any lunch at all!" Mrs. Carter scolded, "Oh, where are you anyway?"

Humphrey responded by lifting his head above the grass, so that Mrs. Carter could see him. "I'm coming, Mama." He yelled back at her.

He walked back to his house as slowly and solemnly as possible, so that he could soak in every last bit of sunshine. He opened the weathered back door to a busy kitchen; boiling water, potato shavings, corn husks, and flour spilled all over the eroded floor. Mrs. Carter was dashing from stove to sink to table, and turned around to face her son at the sound of the screen door closing. Her hands were on her hips and she looked down at him with a disapproving face.

"Now Humphrey, you got me worried sick when I couldn't find you out there. I thought maybe an animal got to you or something."

"I'm fine, see mama?" Humphrey reassured her.

"Yes, I see. I - I just don't like it when you're out there by yourself all day. A nine year old boy like you ought to spend more time with his father or reading or - I don't know, maybe playing with other children his age?"

"Mama," Humphrey whined, "I like playing by myself."

"It can't be healthy for a boy. Now go wash up and help me set the table."
Once the food was prepared and the table was set, Mrs. Carter, Mr. Carter, Humphrey, and his siblings, Mable, Emily, and Joseph, all sat down around the dining room table for Sunday supper. They joined hands and said their prayers.

"Our Father which art in heaven," Mr. Carter said, "Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever."

They all said together, "Amen."

Humphrey was the first to dig in. He forked in mounds of mashed potatoes, gnawed away at the corn-on-the-cob, and even after the meatloaf and beans, he had managed room for seconds. Only mid-supper had he glanced up at once, only to realize that everyone was staring at him, amused.

"Honestly, Humphrey!" Mable, the second oldest child, giggled, "How are you so skinny?"

It was true, too. No matter how much he devoured, he never seemed to gain weight. He was short for his age, lean and somewhat wimpy, and had a fragile frame. He had dusty, sandy hair, and eyes that traversed from a raging ocean to a quiet summer night.

Joseph, the eldest of the four children, practically choked on his corn, laughing at Mable's comment. Emily, only a few years older than Humphrey, sat quietly as usual, watching and listening.

"Children," Mrs. Carter interrupted, "leave Humphrey be. He can't help it if he's a growing boy."

"Um-hum!" Humphrey agreed through a mouthful of beans.

Mr. Carter chuckled, "He's just like his old man."