Two Blocks from Slab Town - Thirsty
by Saturna Brown
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Two Blocks from Slab Town
Thirsty
by Saturna Brown


Posted: 19:12 May 10, 2008


     You cannot run away from a weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand? (The Amateur Emigrant, Chap. 4)

Two Blocks from Slab Town
     It was Saturday afternoon. Joey and I were at the railroad tracks hunting for gold. The tracks ran parallel to our home along side a creek. We scanned the number of rocks between the wooden planks, believing we would find a chunk of gold. Instead, we found interesting-looking rocks. I began stuffing what I saw in my pockets. Once when we reached home, the rocks would go into an old lard can under my bed.

     Strolling into the back yard, Mike was using a file on an old penny. I asked him what he was doing.

     Not bothering to look up, he continued working on the penny. “I’m going to turn this penny into a dime, so I can get a soda.”

     I turned around looking at Joey seeing if he read my mind. He did!

     We were thirsty and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Since Mother was busy ironing clothes for her customers, we headed back outside and drank from the hose. After turning off the faucet, I knew Mother was going to ask me to do something.

     “Cissy,I need you to get the clothes off the line.”

     “Okay, Mother.”

     I ran over to one of the two clothes lines and began removing the wooden pins. Gently, I folded the clothing, sheets and towels into a large woven basket while handing the clothespins to Joey. Mother had sewn a cloth bag onto a wooden hanger to put the pins in. I thought it was ingenious, because one could slide the bag along with you while removing the items from the line. Joey had fun tossing the clothespins into the bag, while I completed my chore.

     Mother did not like to wash and iron other people’s clothing along with their sheets and towels. But, it was the only job she knew where she could stay home. She never thought about asking Mike and Kyle to help out with the expenses, such as the electricity and water bill. They spent most of their money on clothes, games and sports stuff.

     After bringing in the basket and setting it on the kitchen floor, I noticed Mike had left. Rushing into the bedroom, Joey and I shared, I locked the door. No one knew my secret hiding place. Reaching under my bed, I dragged the lard can out. No sooner had I began taking out the rocks, I sensed Joey would be at the door.

     “Let me in,” he stammered.

     “No! I’ll be out in a minute.”

     I dumped the rest of the rocks on the floor along with two pennies.

     When the banging stopped, I knew what he was up to. The knob began to move. I threw the rocks back in the container. I jammed the lid on and pushed the container back under my bed. I rushed over to my jewelry box on the dresser.

     The door opened. Joey ran in holding a butter knife he used as the key.

     “You’ve got some money don’t you?”

     “Yes!”

     I showed him the two pennies.

     Jumping up and down and laughing. “I knew it!”

     “Let’s see if we can do what Mike did,” walking towards the opening.

     When we entered the kitchen, I noticed Joey sneaking over to the silverware drawer putting the knife back. Mother was so busy with her ironing, she did not notice.

     Running to the shed, I found Father’s box of tools. Opening the rusted, black box, there it was ‘as pretty as you please’ lying right on top. I picked up the file. I began filing away on one of the pennies, just like I saw Mike do. When it seemed thin enough, I started on the other one.

     “Mother," I called through the screen door. “Joey and I are going over to Jan’s.”

     “Okay, but in an hour, supper will be ready.”

     I was not sure what she was planning on fixing, since she had been working all day. It was probably left-over rice and beans from yesterday’s meal. At least it was better than grits and gravy or the collard greens and fat-back one our neighbors had given us.

     “Why are we going over to Jan’s?” asked Joey trying to keep up with me as I walked down the tracks made by Father’s car.

     Jan was a year younger than me, while her younger brother, Carl, was a year younger than Joey. They lived across the street to the left of us. Their father was employed. Everyone assumed they had money, because he owned several hunting dogs kept in a pen. One had to have money to feed those dogs.

     Instead of turning left towards Jan’s house, we went right running down the road towards the highway, hoping Mother did not see us. There were several roads we could have taken, but that meant walking through part of Slab Town. Nope, not today. I wanted to keep the two thin pennies I had in my pocket. Walking along the highway was safer and the route would bring us to the Spar Gas Station.

     Upon arriving, I saw the two vending machines. The tall one was for sodas and the other for candy bars.

     Boldly, I walked up to the soda machine and took out one of the pennies. Placing the penny into the slot, it would not go in.

     “Try the other one," Joey whispered.

     I did. Well, I guess our effort had been in vain. I was about the say something to Joey, when I saw how tired and thirsty he looked.

     I decided to try another tactic for getting one of those bottles of soda. It’s called, ‘open-the-glass-door-and-pull.’ Since the shape of the bottles were different, maybe I might get lucky. I began trying every flavor, starting with the number one choice, orange soda. I yanked…nope. I tried coco cola…nope. Next, was grape soda…nope.

     Joey began to whine. “Let me try.”

     I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined him pulling the bottle out.

     He pulled and out it came. It happened to be a root beer.

     “Do it again,” I said urging him on.

     He managed to pull the last one. I was going to have him try another flavor, but stopped when a customer at the gas pump began walking towards us.

     Joey and I looked at each other. We knew what we had to do. RUN LIKE THE WIND!

     Another true story from the book, “Two Blocks from Slab Town,” will be published in three weeks.

     Check out Saturna Brown’s website: alieninthekitchen.spaces.live.com.





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