Mom turned to
face me and tugged at my shirt and picked me up and set me down on the bench
that faced the city. She looked me at me for a whole minute and kissed me on
the forehead. There was something in her eyes that told me all was not well and
we were not there to meet my daddy.
“Wait here and I
will get you something to eat,” and with that she turned and walked away. I
watched her walk around the building where we had just come from. I sat there
for a long time waiting – waiting for her to return but she never did. My
stomach started to growl as I stood up and looked all around for my mommy. I
ran to the building were we had entered the park but she wasn’t there. The
hotdog vendor was still making hotdogs but she was not there either. I ran to
the end of the block and looked in all directions but she was nowhere to be
found.
I began to cry
as I called for my mommy, a mother who had abandoned me in the heart of one of
the largest cities in the world. I cried as I walked back to the park and the
bench where she left me. I was so hungry but I quickly forgot about being
hungry, the fear of being left alone began to fill my little body. I knew no
one. I sat on the park bench and cried for what seemed like hours until I had
no tears left. My hunger returned as I watched the people walking up and down
the street. They seemed not to notice me and the ones that did turned their
heads. My head was pounding from the crying and not
having anything to eat.
"Is there
something wrong with me? And that is why my mommy left me?" I kept asking
myself. I desperately tried to think back to see if there was something I’d
done, but couldn’t think of anything. Maybe that is why my father left. All I
know is . . . I miss my mommy.
It was getting
late in the evening when the sun went down behind some buildings and the
crickets began singing. My mommy had not returned and it would be dark soon. I
had never slept outside before and I was afraid of the dark. Mommy would always
leave the door open and a light from the kitchen would shine through into my
bedroom across the bottom of my bed. That kept the monsters away, you see, they
can’t come into the light. A man dressed in a gray shirt and pants walked with
a stool that he would place at the bottom of the light poles and he would light
the lamp on the pole and then move to the next.
There were lamp
poles located all through the park and my hunger was now replaced with thirst
and I walked deeper into the park in search for water. There was a small water
fountain and I scooped up handfuls of water, it cool taste quenching my thirst.
My stomach was full for now as I looked around. It had been a long day and I
was getting tired. I needed some place to rest so I could start looking for
mommy in the morning.
I found a
secluded spot up a small hill with several shrubs where I could hide. As I
approached the shrubs I spotted a small hidden trail leading back into the
center and sat down looking up to see the stars, but the light from the city
blocked out the stars. As I sat there, I was shaking, not from being cold, but
from fear. I was so afraid and I missed my mommy and I must have cried myself
to sleep during the night.
*
* *
The next morning,
I awoke early to find bugs crawling on my jacket. I quickly stood and shook
myself free of the dirt and grass and when I combed my fingers through my hair
I felt something crawling on my hand. I moved my hand to look and screamed as a
spider crawled across my hand and I slung him off. I frantically looked for my
hat as I pulled my jacket off to inspect it for more bugs. Bugs didn’t bother
me, but spiders did, I was afraid of them. I hated spiders and I didn’t want
any part of them, nasty little creatures.
I bent down and
crawled back through my hidden access tunnel and knew the first thing to do was
find something to eat. I walked back to where the hotdog vendor was and asked
him for something to eat but he refused to give me anything, telling me to get
lost. I didn’t have to get lost – I was lost; I had been left.
I had never met
my grandparents. My mother used to talk about them. How they mistreated her
when she was growing up. But now, after thinking about it, that is the way she
treats me. I remember one time when we were in a store buying some groceries
and a lady in front of us made a comment about what I was wearing. It embarrassed
my mother and she told the lady to mind her own business. But when we reached
the woods on our way back to our house she put down the groceries and broke a
small limb off a tree and began beating me with the switch. I screamed and
cried but she didn’t let up. She continued whipping me until she gave out.
Through the cries I remember her saying something about embarrassing her. I
couldn’t understand why she beat me because of that; she was the one who dress
me that morning. Even through all the beatings I still loved my mommy. She was
the only thing I had and now I don’t even have that.
I
was so hungry and I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from when I
spotted a very large rat eating on something wrapped in paper. As I walked
toward the rat I spotted a couple rocks and picked them up. I held the rocks
up, inspecting them and chose the larger and put the smaller one in the other
hand. I moved closer but the rat was not intimidated. I shouted at him but he
only looked in my direction and then continued to eat. I knew right then and
there it was either the rat or me. I took careful aim and threw the rock
hitting the rat, rolling him over. He took off running, looking back at
me a couple times before disappearing into a storm drain.
When I knelt
down to inspect the bag I found three partially eaten pieces of chicken, a
drumstick and two thighs. The drumstick had already been eaten as well as one
of the thighs, but the other thigh had hardly been touched except where the rat
had been eating. I pulled that away and ate the rest. The drumstick had a small
piece of meat still on it, so I ate that and the ends off the bone.
I headed back to
the fountain to wash it all down with some water but somehow I got turned
around and realized I was lost. I had never been to this side of the park and
began to wonder around trying to find some water. I wanted to search for mommy
this morning but now I was lost and the further I walked the more lost I
became.
After walking
for what seemed like hours I came to a pond. I was so thirsty and its water
looked inviting, I lay down on my stomach and took a long drink. It was kind of
muddy and I could feel the grit in my teeth. I hated that feeling so I took
another drink trying to wash the grit out of my teeth but it only made it
worse. I tried to wipe my teeth against my shirtsleeve but that didn’t work. I
working up a good spit and tried spitting it out and that seemed to help a
little. I decided not to drink from that spot anymore. I made up my mind that I
would find somewhere else to drink.
As I continued
through the park I came to the edge near a street and could see the buildings
once again, but it wasn’t the same buildings where my mother left me. I was in
a totally different place and I stopped and looked up and down the street. I
didn’t know which way to go. There were people everywhere and they all seemed
to know where they were going but I didn’t. So I watched the crowd and decided
to follow the largest group up the street. The park was on my left and it was the
only place I felt any safety. I walked for some time when I noticed my stomach
was starting to hurt.
The pains began
coming more frequently so I found a small patch of woods when suddenly I became
very ill. I began throwing up the only thing I had eaten in the last two days.
Even though the day was warm I broke out in a cold sweat and I couldn’t take
more than a few steps before throwing up again. I don’t know how it was
possible but it seemed to me that I was throwing up more than I had eaten. How was that possible, I asked myself? I
continued to throw up until there was nothing left but that didn’t stop the
violent gagging.
I cried for what
seemed like hours until the sun began to set on the second day. I was weak,
sick and frightened and I had no idea where my mother was, would this nightmare
ever end?
Sometime during
the night I woke to a steady rain. I was soaked to the bone and cold and I knew
I had to find some shelter. My hair was matted to my forehead as I stumbled in
the darkness looking for some place to get out of the rain. I walked blindly
into the night with small limbs scraping against my face as I tried to find
someplace safe. Each limb dug into my face causing the blood to mingle with the
rain as it slowly painted my face red. I found a small tunnel and crawled into
it to get out of the rain but I was soaked and cold as I pulled my legs close
to my body, I shivered until I again fell asleep.
I awoke the next
morning and looked down and to my horror, there was a rat eating on my shoe. I
kicked it away and when it rolled to a stop it just sat up and looked at me, as
if it were debating whether to come back and finish the job. I shouted, “GO
AWAY,” but that didn’t seem to bother the rat. He looked at me for a couple
more seconds and turned, headed back into the tunnel and disappeared into the
darkness.
My stomach was
hurting and the pain replaced the hunger. I knew that I had to find something
to eat, but I wondered now if I would even be able to keep it down or not. I
brushed myself off and headed out into the sunlight. Its warm rays hitting my
face seemed to help my cramps that seemed to be fading. I staggered as I walked
out into an open field and saw the now familiar tops of the surrounding
building towering over the tree line. I could hear the sounds of city life as
the cars and trucks made their way up and down the street. The sounds of horns
blowing and cars backfiring filled the air as I made my way south.
I noticed a
mother and her daughter walking, heading in my direction and as they approached
the mother took the daughter by the hand and they made a wide berth around me.
Was there something wrong with me?
I thought to myself. I looked down and my clothes were covered with dirt and my
hands were black. I could only imagine what my face looked like. My eyes were
swollen from the crying I did last night. I felt ashamed, alone and frightened.
I continued down
the street until it split into two narrower streets. I took the one on the left
to what looked like a market street. The street was full of people buying
fruits and vegetables, clothing as well as hardware items. I made my way into
the crowd of people bumping into each other and slowly made my way further down
the street. The smell of food was overwhelming as I passed table after table of
food I had never seen before, but the temptation to take something was eating
at me. I had never stolen anything in my life but I had no money and I was
starving.
Would taking an apple be so wrong?
I thought to myself. They would never
miss an apple, I mean; it’s just an apple. As I walked past one of the
tables I reached out and took the largest apple that was next to me and kept on
walking. I took a bite out of it and as I started chewing the piece someone
behind me shouted to the merchant, “Hey, that kid just stole an apple.”
The merchant
shouted for me to stop, but I took off running with the merchant in hot
pursuit. My heart was racing as I dodged in and out of the crowd trying to get
away and I just about made it when someone in front of me stuck their leg out
and I tripped and went tumbling down the street. I threw my hands up in front
of me to catch myself as my face hit hard against the pavement. My eyes were
full of tears as my nose began to bleed. Blood trickled down my face as the
merchant stopped over me and began beating me with his belt across my back. I
rolled over and tried to shield myself but his belt cut into my hands as I
tried to protect myself. I began to scream and cry, but this did little to stop
my attacker. It seemed to give him great pride to beat me in front of all his
patrons. It was only after he tired that he quit his assault.
“Now, you want
that apple son?” He asked me, but I did not answer.
“Go ahead, you
can have it,” he said as he turned and walked away.
The belt hit me
several times across the face and a huge welt formed across my forehead. Blood mingled with tears ran down my face as
I picked myself up and headed away from the merchant. I walked past the apple
as it lay on the street, but as hungry as I was, I wanted no part of it. Now
only was I starved and beaten, I was humiliated. I don’t remember a time in my
life that I felt any lower. I made my way down the street two more blocks and
found a large box sitting against a building. It had an old rug lying inside
and I walked over to inspect the box.
I looked around
and there seemed to be no one paying attention to me as I crawled into the box
and covered myself with the rug, hiding myself from the world. As I lay there
crying I fell asleep once again, my dreams carrying me home. My mother was
making biscuits in the oven and I waited at the kitchen table as the smell of
fresh bread filled the room. My mouth watered as she handed me a fresh biscuit
and I bit down as the warm and inviting taste of the bread filled my mouth. I
reached across the table and pulled the butter and a jar of blackberry jam and
made me another. I felt at peace I was home, safe and full.
I jolted awake;
the afternoon sun was casting shadows on the street in front of my box. The
taste of the fresh baked biscuit lingered on my tongue as I looked out of my
makeshift shelter. For the first time since my mother left me I felt some
resemblance of safety. I watched an old, mangy dog trot by my box on his way
somewhere down the street. This piqued my interest; maybe, just maybe he knew
somewhere to get something to eat.
I climbed out of my
shelter, noting its location. I would return later to stay the night; it was
the only real shelter I had found so far. I was now getting weaker because of
the lack of food. The apple crossed my mind, as I followed the dog further down
the street, I wondered if it could still be lying in the street where I had
left it. I looked desperately for something to eat. It was becoming harder to
keep up with the dog as he continued to trot in front of me. I had to jog to
keep up the pace with the dog and I finally stopped, my hand on my stomach. I
was too weak to go any further when suddenly the dog stopped and made his way
through a wooden fence.
