𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐒𝐇// 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐗𝐎𝐂

𝐱𝐢𝐱. ✭ 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 (𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋)

THANKSGIVING, 1975; CHANCE

Background Music
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-American Pie by Don McLean-
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"So, bye-bye Miss American Pie." Eddie and I sang along with Don McLean's record as we started on the hefty work ahead of us. We, two stupid kids, decided that we would make Thanksgiving all by ourselves.

Why not? None of the adults were putting in any effort and we wanted Thanksgiving just like how all the other kids got it. Mama was snoring on the couch in the living room, drool wetting the side of her mouth.

"Sweet dreams, Mama," I murmured into her forehead after giving it a little kiss. "I'll make you a big ol' pumpkin pie to enjoy when you wake up."

Petting her mess of hair, I wistfully looked at her. I wanted Mama to join in on the fun and cook with us but I knew better than anyone how grumpy she would be if I got her up. Even if it was for Thanksgiving.

Daddy was off at work. There had been some drunk driving incident and he was called in immediately. Curtis Summers, the teenager that lived in the trailer across from us was involved.

Peaking the shuttered windows I could see his mama on their front porch. She was sobbing, her face red. Using a hanky, Mrs. Summers continually wiped away her endless tears.

Curtis ended up being alright. His car was totaled but besides a fractured elbow, the boy was just a little shaken.

"Come on, Chance." Eddie tugged me off of the couch I had been using to peer out of the window. "Stop looking. You're gonna make her sad if she catches you staring."

Eddie's mama, Ruth Waters was her maiden name, died in a car crash herself. She had gotten sleepy when she was at the wheel and drove off with her eyes closed. The car hit a tree, branches smashed through the windshield, all the way into Eddie's mama.

Eddie's daddy, the elusive Nicholas Munson, was behind bars doing God knows what. Only when Eddie was little his Uncle just told him that his daddy was gone hiking in the mountains and he'd be back someday.

"Here's your mama, Eddie." Stumbling around with an urn I had carried from his trailer, I asked. "Where do you want her?"

"Put her on the table." He said over his shoulder, tying an apron that drowned him around his waist. "And put Dad next to her. That way they can both watch us while we cook."

"Okayyy." I nodded, placing a framed photo of Eddie's daddy next to his wife's ashes. Mr. Munson looked like he had been stuck out in the wilderness for a month in his picture.

He had Eddie's face shape, although it was mostly disguised by his wild tangly beard. He gave the photographer eyes of daggers, splitting open anyone who dared to glance at him.

I had seen pictures of Eddie's mama and she looked much different. She was beautiful, with the golden ringlets that curled all the way down her back. I suppose that's where Eddie got his hair from. Ruth Munson also was significantly younger than Eddie's daddy. Much younger.

The Munson couple had met when Ruth was in high school. Eddie's daddy wasn't. Maybe that's the reason why he went on his hiking trip. Eddie was born during his Mama's senior year. He was even in her graduation pictures. A little cherub baby she had scooped up in her arms.