Bean Shots

Missing Pieces (age 3)

The great expanse of sky loomed over the city of Moscow like a heavy woolen blanket. Thunder rolled in the distance, though the clouds held back their torrents for the time-being. The young Russian girl trudged on ahead, only a couple more blocks to go. She hummed a gentle tune despite being exhausted and out of breath, a brown paper bag of groceries in one arm and a tiny bundled toddler in the other. Small as he was, her arms ached, her muscles pleaded for relief, but she moved steadily on ahead...

One foot in front of the other.

The young mother, barely more than a girl, shifted to boost the little boy a little higher on her hip, steadying the bag of groceries in her other arm. "Almost there, baby..." she assured him between strained and tired breaths. "Almost there..." Her words were cut short by a sharp cough, and she slowed only enough to let it pass.

The small boy reached out and put his tiny, albeit very long-fingered hand against her lips.  "Okay, mama?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, baby." She smiled against his palm and made little kisses into his soft skin.

Anya's arm tightened around the bag with a crumpling sound as she passed a gathering crowd around a street musician. Just then, the bottom of the bag ripped open, and the items tumbled onto the sidewalk, despite her frantic attempt to stop the catastrophe. Lifting her face to the sky, she closed her blue eyes and sighed, her now free arm hanging loosely at her side holding the shredded, empty paper bag.  She didn't let go of her little boy as she crouched to pick up the simple items- a bag of potatoes, a cardboard carton of milk, a bag of apples, a small frozen chicken... and a box of strawberry Pop Tarts. 

"Pop Tart..." the little boy murmured, pointing a long, little index finger. His small voice sounded awfully concerned. 

"Don't worry, sweet Bean, your Pop Tarts are fine." Leaning in toward him, she planted a kiss on his round little cheek.  Then she removed her coat to use as a makeshift satchel and continued down the street toward the rather shabby-looking building with the cracked and decayed exterior. 

At last, she reached the door with the peeling paint and stepped inside the drafty building. A baby crying could be heard from an apartment within, and the floorboards creaked under her steps. She climbed two flights of rickety stairs and headed a short ways down the hall to a door with 3C on it in tarnished brass with rusty screws. Pulling a single key on a ring out from her pocket, she unlocked the door to a very small, very simple apartment with outdated furniture and old appliances.

It was mostly one big room, save for a little bathroom off to the right. A tiny kitchen was in the back right, and a bed on a plain metal frame was in the back left. To the immediate left was a drab couch and a chair with frayed upholstery. But brightening the room almost everywhere were small accents of color. Hanging on the wall above the bed was a construction paper chain. Flowers made from paper and straws peeked out from a cracked mug on the small metal and vinyl kitchen table. There were photographs tacked to the walls, and papers decorated with colorful crayon scribbles were hung prominently all around like fine pieces of artwork.

Anya exhaled in relief as she set Bennett down on the floor.  "Oof!  You're getting so big."  The cheerfulness in her voice masked the ache and the exhaustion for the sake of her son.

She moved to set the makeshift satchel of groceries on the table before turning back to Bean.  He was sitting on the floor tugging at his shoelaces.  He pulled off one sneaker and then the other, then stood and bent to pick them up and set them neatly by the door.

"Good job putting your things away."  Anya smiled at him as she crouched in front of him and unzipped his coat.  "You're so grown up."

Bean grinned as he turned so that she could pull his jacket off his arms.  Then he ran with little socked feet over to kneel down before a cardboard box against the wall.  On the front of it was painted in big, red letters, "Bennett's Toys" along with a big yellow sunshine with a smiley face.   There were also colorful drawings and scribblings made in marker all over the box, along with some stickers of stars and animals and flowers.

Anya sighed heavily as she sat down on the couch and dropped her head back against the cushions, closing her eyes.  She breathed in deeply a few times and felt the strain of the day on her lungs and muscles.  Working at a thrift store may not be the most labor-intensive job, but... she wasn't well.  And she'd known that for awhile now.

"Mama?"

"Hm?"  Anya opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at the little boy.  He was standing in front of her holding a puzzle box.  A few of the pieces were missing, so the thrift store wouldn't sell it.  They'd allowed Anya to take it, and many of Bean's toys had been acquired in the same manner.

"Will, um..."  He held out the box, the pieces clattering softly inside.  "Will you do a puzzle with me?"

"Of course."  Anya slid off the couch to sit on the floor against it, crossing her legs.

A hoodie string dangled from his mouth as Bean knelt down and emptied the box's contents onto the floor.  He'd done this puzzle before, but he didn't mind.  He started putting the pieces together, not technically needing Anya's help, but she participated all the same.

Finally, the picture was complete, save for a few holes where the missing pieces would go.

"All done!"  Bean triumphantly put his long arms outward.

Anya clapped her hands together a few times.  "We did it!"

"E'cept for the holes."  Bean's little finger poked at the exposed flooring where one of the puzzle pieces was missing.  His other hand held a hoodie string to his teeth.

Anya looked at him.  Then she stood up and moved over to his cardboard toybox.  She rummaged around before producing a container of Play-Doh.  She sat back down on the floor and opened it.  Bean's eyes watched her curiously as Anya took out a little ball of the blue putty and smushed it into one of the empty spots.  Then she took out another little piece and handed it to Bean, smiling.

Bennett grinned and copied her, pressing the Play-Doh into another space where a puzzle piece was missing.  He did this until there were no more holes.  It was a bit quirky to look at, and it wasn't what the picture on the box had intended, but it was still beautiful.  Missing pieces or not, the picture was complete and more than enough for the little Bean.