Flashback...Hungry

Today was going to be a bad day. Feeling hunger clawing at his stomach he remembered that they had eaten the last corn-dog, they had been out of cereal for a week, and it was a Saturday on the wrong week. Raising his rail thin frame from the secondhand bed, and sheets that hadn’t been washed in months, he washed in the bathroom down the hall as well as he knew how. Looked in on his sister and brother sleeping still, thankfully, there was no crying.

There was no music, the first sign that today wasn’t going to be a good day. He stayed upstairs tiptoeing so as to make as little noise as possible. Government welfare housing wasn’t exactly sound proof, and a misstep could lead to a tirade of yelling, and then crying as his sibling realized there wasn’t a very diverse menu. If his memory served, and it hadn’t failed him recently, the pantry contained oyster crackers, and flour. Not much nutrition in that, but there wasn’t really anything a seven year old boy could do.

Staring out the window, at the vacant basketball court no nets, no rims. A children's playground, and a drug dealers stomping grounds. The sun had risen over the tree line, the woods that were forbidden, no one really knew why, but legend had it that was where the teenagers kissed. The thought of kissing was rather disgusting, especially a girl.

Feeding a 3 year old and an infant oyster crackers is less about actually feeding, and more about making it a game of pick up and feed you face. Dumping some crackers onto the cleanest section of table he could find, he watched as his three year old sister and two year old brother ate their carb laden breakfast. Snagging a few crackers here and there, he hoped the Schwan’s order had included more corn dogs than the last, and maybe something else for variety.

Jumping up and leaving the two little ones to their own devices, he hid the crackers and went outside, in search of that neighbor girl, and her mother with the carrots, grapes and sad eyes.