“GET BACK HERE!!!”
The scream rang through the night like gunshots. I didn't see who it was but I could guess. Mrs. Rosemary Piper. She had about thirty-seven cats and had lived in the same house her whole life. She was widowed six years ago and that was when she had started her collection of cats. Besides cat collecting she also gardened. She mainly grew roses but in the past two years she had taken to growing tomatoes also. She always had more than enough tomatoes but she never used them. She would pick them when they were ripe, but 90% of them would rot in plastic buckets on her front porch.
The only reason I had heard her yell was that I was walking though the park and she lived right on the edge of it. I was out walking Charlie, my dog because I couldn't sleep. Like the good neighbor I am I want to check on her. Not that she deserved it. She never smiled or acknowledged me when I saw her.
When I got to her house she was threatening to call the police on a boy of about ten or eleven.
“Is something wrong Mrs. Piper?” She hadn't seen me approach and was a little startled at first.
“What are you doing out so late?” She snapped at me.
“I was just walking Charlie and I thought I heard you scream. Is everything okay?
“No! This little vandal was stealing my tomatoes,” she said it as if the boy had tried to kill someone.
“Can I talk to him?” I asked hoping to find out something more from him.
“You can try,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I took the boy aside, far enough away so that Mrs. Piper couldn't hear our discussion.
“Hi, I'm Mrs. Piper's neighbor. My name's Cameron.”
“I'm Timmy,” he replied without making eye contact. He seemed to like Charlie though, and was looking at him like he wanted to pet him but was afraid to ask.
“Go ahead,” I said, “He won't bite you.” Timmy reached out to pet Charlie on the head and instead got a handful of slobber. I saw Timmy's face light up just a little as he pet Charlie. “So, Mrs. Piper says that you were stealing her tomatoes,” I said, trying not to pry and make him uncomfortable.
“I guess so,” he said.
“Why?” I asked him. No more beating around the bush. I had to know.
“I was hungry,” he replied, plain and simple.
“Did you not eat dinner?” I asked him, teasing just a little.
“ I don't have a home,” he said as if it were nothing, all the time petting Charlie.
“Where do you live?”
“In the park. In the tunnel of the jungle gym.” When he said that my heart broke. I had to find this boy a home.
“Will you watch Charlie for a sec' for me?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he seemed a little reluctant but kept petting him. I went over to talk to Mrs. Piper.
“Mrs. Piper, did you know that Timmy doesn't have a home?” I wasn't trying to make her feel bad but she took it that way.
“So that makes stealing okay? Don't try and guilt trip me into letting that little thief off the hook,” she said.
“I'm not Mrs. Piper. I'm only saying that he was hungry. He wasn't stealing for fun. He was just trying to fill hes belly,” I said hoping to chip away some of the hard outer shell of her heart. I knew that she had a heart because her late husband was the nicest old man I had ever met. She was just lonely and bitter. She needed a friend besides her thirty-seven cats. That was when it hit me. Timmy could be her friend. “Instead of calling the police maybe he could come and help you weed your garden to make up for taking the tomatoes. Calling the police won't do any good. He'll end up in and out of foster homes, or worse he'll end up in juvie. At least if he's helping you it'll give him something to do and he won't have time to get in trouble,” If I couldn't appeal to her heart then maybe she would listen to reason.
“You think I should give him a job?” This time she didn't act like it was unthinkable. She was considering it. I had broken through.
“Yes. Plus, it'll help you out. You'll have someone to help you around the house,” here's where I had to play my cards just right, “Or you could even just give him somewhere to live instead of paying him,” I said it in a quiet voice and leaned slightly away in case I got an explosive reaction. Something in her face had changed though. The tenseness was gone and I could see her eyes. Before, I was too scared to look at them. I watched as her aged blue eyes contemplated the pros and cons of letting this little homeless boy live with her.
“Well, I guess I can't let him go back to living in the streets,” I knew I had won when she said this, “Maybe we'll see how it works out.”
A year later Mrs. Piper and Timmy are inseparable. Timmy loves her like she's his mother and Mrs. Piper loves him like he is her son. They even take Charlie for walks every now and then.
The scream rang through the night like gunshots. I didn't see who it was but I could guess. Mrs. Rosemary Piper. She had about thirty-seven cats and had lived in the same house her whole life. She was widowed six years ago and that was when she had started her collection of cats. Besides cat collecting she also gardened. She mainly grew roses but in the past two years she had taken to growing tomatoes also. She always had more than enough tomatoes but she never used them. She would pick them when they were ripe, but 90% of them would rot in plastic buckets on her front porch.
The only reason I had heard her yell was that I was walking though the park and she lived right on the edge of it. I was out walking Charlie, my dog because I couldn't sleep. Like the good neighbor I am I want to check on her. Not that she deserved it. She never smiled or acknowledged me when I saw her.
When I got to her house she was threatening to call the police on a boy of about ten or eleven.
“Is something wrong Mrs. Piper?” She hadn't seen me approach and was a little startled at first.
“What are you doing out so late?” She snapped at me.
“I was just walking Charlie and I thought I heard you scream. Is everything okay?
“No! This little vandal was stealing my tomatoes,” she said it as if the boy had tried to kill someone.
“Can I talk to him?” I asked hoping to find out something more from him.
“You can try,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I took the boy aside, far enough away so that Mrs. Piper couldn't hear our discussion.
“Hi, I'm Mrs. Piper's neighbor. My name's Cameron.”
“I'm Timmy,” he replied without making eye contact. He seemed to like Charlie though, and was looking at him like he wanted to pet him but was afraid to ask.
“Go ahead,” I said, “He won't bite you.” Timmy reached out to pet Charlie on the head and instead got a handful of slobber. I saw Timmy's face light up just a little as he pet Charlie. “So, Mrs. Piper says that you were stealing her tomatoes,” I said, trying not to pry and make him uncomfortable.
“I guess so,” he said.
“Why?” I asked him. No more beating around the bush. I had to know.
“I was hungry,” he replied, plain and simple.
“Did you not eat dinner?” I asked him, teasing just a little.
“ I don't have a home,” he said as if it were nothing, all the time petting Charlie.
“Where do you live?”
“In the park. In the tunnel of the jungle gym.” When he said that my heart broke. I had to find this boy a home.
“Will you watch Charlie for a sec' for me?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he seemed a little reluctant but kept petting him. I went over to talk to Mrs. Piper.
“Mrs. Piper, did you know that Timmy doesn't have a home?” I wasn't trying to make her feel bad but she took it that way.
“So that makes stealing okay? Don't try and guilt trip me into letting that little thief off the hook,” she said.
“I'm not Mrs. Piper. I'm only saying that he was hungry. He wasn't stealing for fun. He was just trying to fill hes belly,” I said hoping to chip away some of the hard outer shell of her heart. I knew that she had a heart because her late husband was the nicest old man I had ever met. She was just lonely and bitter. She needed a friend besides her thirty-seven cats. That was when it hit me. Timmy could be her friend. “Instead of calling the police maybe he could come and help you weed your garden to make up for taking the tomatoes. Calling the police won't do any good. He'll end up in and out of foster homes, or worse he'll end up in juvie. At least if he's helping you it'll give him something to do and he won't have time to get in trouble,” If I couldn't appeal to her heart then maybe she would listen to reason.
“You think I should give him a job?” This time she didn't act like it was unthinkable. She was considering it. I had broken through.
“Yes. Plus, it'll help you out. You'll have someone to help you around the house,” here's where I had to play my cards just right, “Or you could even just give him somewhere to live instead of paying him,” I said it in a quiet voice and leaned slightly away in case I got an explosive reaction. Something in her face had changed though. The tenseness was gone and I could see her eyes. Before, I was too scared to look at them. I watched as her aged blue eyes contemplated the pros and cons of letting this little homeless boy live with her.
“Well, I guess I can't let him go back to living in the streets,” I knew I had won when she said this, “Maybe we'll see how it works out.”
A year later Mrs. Piper and Timmy are inseparable. Timmy loves her like she's his mother and Mrs. Piper loves him like he is her son. They even take Charlie for walks every now and then.
(Picture from: www.fotosa.ru)
2 comments:
What a great story! Did you write this?
Yep, yep!
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