Throwaway People

Thanksgiving

Green Acres, Haverhill Road: 4:48 PM

Little C. went down and looked along the edge of the canal. He knew he was safe. Little C. had seen Jim meet up with Patty. They had eaten at the sub shop and left. There had been a Sheriff car patrolling the parking lots, he had left too. Little C. found his gun laying in shallow water. He picked it up. He would dry it off later.

Little C. had traveled down to the corner of Forest Hill and Haverhill. He had seen Jim and Patty go down Military towards the Fresco. He knew that the two of them went down Cresthaven towards Haverhill. People were speculating they had a camp near John I. Leonard High School. It may even be on the grounds somewhere. He wanted to get there and hide before they did, so he could find out where they were camping.

Little C. hid in the woods of a empty lot. There he cleaned his gun with his shirt. Drying it off. Little C. had taken the bullets out of the chambers. Cleaned them off. Tore off a little chunk of his tee-shirt, used a twig to push it through the chambers and the barrel. Little C. wished that he had oil. He would have used it on the old revolver.

After Little C. had pistol whipped Bobbi, he had taken the money he had stolen from Bobbi to get some crack. He took out the baggie now and took out his pipe. The crack would give Little C. the edge he needed. This time he would get the drop on Jim.

That was when the big dog showed up. It was the biggest dog Little C. had ever seen. Little C. dropped both his pipe and his revolver. As he struggled to pick up the gun the monster dog barreled into Little C.. Knocking the drug addict on his ass, then flat onto his back. The dog lowered it's drooling muzzle to Little C.'s face.

Little C. closed his eyes. Waiting for the dog to maul him. It was during this time that Jim and Patty went down the canal to the opening that led them to their camp. Once they were safely into the woods the dog disappeared. Leaving C. lying on his back with his eyes closed.

It wasn't until C. had the nerve that he saw there was no dog standing over him. If there ever was one. He got up and brushed off some sand. He picked up his pipe and revolver. Little C. continued to wait for Patty and Jim to show up. Little C. kept an eye out for the dog as well. He wouldn't be startled by it again. Little C. promised himself that he would kill it the next time it showed up. He could hear the dog moving in the woods.

It wasn't until later that night that Little C. decided he was tired of waiting. He got up, put the revolver in his waistband. He had long since smoked his crack. He was strung out. Little C. decided he would walk between the fence line of J. I. Leonard and the canal that ran next to it. Little C. would look for gaps in the fence that would allow Jim and Patty to slip through.

Greenacres, Florida: November 24th, 9:30 AM

As usual the adults were up before Kitty got up. With a gas operated range top and oven the cooking of a Thanksgiving meal was an easier task. This Thanksgiving meal would win no prizes. It was pre-sliced turkey breast. Powdered mashed potatoes, candied yams made with brown sugar and mini-mellows, green beans with canned ham, boxed stuffing. The gravy came from a jar. Dessert was eggnog and pumpkin pie bought at the Fresco.

On some unconscious level the smells of this primitive Thanksgiving dinner stimulated Kitty's mind. Kitty dreamed that she was laying on a carpet. It was a living room of a apartment with a attached kitchen. Similar to the camp's mainroom. She was watching T.V. with Winnie watching a parade. Mommy was in the kitchen. Humming some song. The smells of a Thanksgiving meal drifted into the living room.