Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Box of Crackers - 1. Chapter 1
“Good night Mr. Atwood, unless you need me for anything, I’ll be going now.”
“Good night Mrs. Marlow, be careful, it’s very cold outside.”
“Pete, I’m leaving. I have all of the Altmeyer accounts up to date. I want to get to my sister’s before it’s too late. I’m not sure what the conditions of the roads will be once I leave the city.”
“Good night Dave, drive carefully and I’ll see you on Monday.”
Dave and I are partners in an accounting firm. After getting my MBA and Dave getting his law degree, we decided to open an accounting firm as partners. We have been in business for six years and doing quite well. I focused on accounting practices and I have my CPA, Dave focused on the legal side of accounting. Together, we have been successful in selling our services to a few small corporations, as an independent auditing firm, and several individuals.
I finished the report I was working on and decided I’d go home as well. I put the draft report in my briefcase, closed the office and left. I live in a fairly new apartment complex close to work. It takes me about twenty minutes to walk home, close enough and far enough to not feel like I was at work all the time. I stopped at the corner grocer to pick up a few items, turned out I had two shopping bags to carry, as well as my briefcase. I only had a block to go before I got home, so I gathered everything in my arms and left. When I got to my apartment building, I set down my brief case, punch in the door code and pushed the door open.
“Good evening Mr. Atwood”
“Good evening Andy, how has your day been?”
“It’s been good, too cold to be outside, glad I have this job. The weatherman said it was the coldest day in several years and might set a record. I’d hate for anyone to be out in this weather.”
Andy, got the elevator for me, punched in my floor number and said good night.
I live on the third floor by the elevator button but actual the sixth floor in the apartment building. Each apartment consists of two floors but the elevator only stops at every other floor. I like my apartment, it’s different and rather unusual. When you enter my apartment, you’re on the first floor, which includes two rooms and a bathroom. The next level up includes a kitchen, master bedroom, laundry room, a half bath and a large living-dining room area. I converted one of the bedrooms on the first floor to an office and the other bedroom to a guest room. I dropped off my briefcase in the office and was just getting ready to go upstairs when the phone rang.
“Mr. Atwood, there’s a kid here who says you dropped a box of crackers.” I looked in the two bags, and the crackers were missing.
“Andy, send him up I’ll meet him at the door.”
“Mr. Atwood, I think it best if you come down.”
I thought that was strange, I put the groceries in the kitchen and headed down to the lobby.
When I arrived, Andy pointed to a small kid holding a box of crackers. The kid had on a light jacket, a knitted cap that had seen better days and worn sneakers. If anything the kid looked scared and cold.
“Thank you for bringing my box of crackers. I didn’t realize that I had dropped it.” “
You dropped it when you were putting the code into the door lock. I was walking by and thought I’d bring it to you.”
I shook his hand and they were very cold. “What’s your name?”
“Bobby sir”
“Well Robert…”
“No sir, my real name is Bobby. My mother liked that name as it was what they called my uncle who was killed in the war.”
“Ok, Bobby it is. Where do you live?”
“Just down the block sir”
Now I knew there were no apartments just down the block. At that end of the apartment complexes was a public park. “Why don’t you come upstairs and have a cup of hot chocolate as a payment for your good deed”
He agreed and taking the box of crackers and his hand, we took the elevator to my apartment. When we entered the apartment, he took off his jacket, I hung it on one of the pegs next to the door. He had on a t-shirt, I knew if he was outside on a night like tonight, he’d freeze to death. He followed me upstairs to the kitchen. I had a small table in the kitchen where I normally ate my meals. “Sit here Bobby, I’ll fix a hot chocolate for both of us.”
“Sir, is there a place where I can wash my hands?” I pointed to the half bath. I could hear the water running, then he was back at the table. His eyes were red, he had been crying.
I placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of him, I sat across from him. As he looked at me I noticed the palest blue eyes I have ever seen. They were entrancing, then he took off his cap, he had the blackest hair that seemed to set off his eyes even more. I thought that this kid could be a model.
“Bobby, I was going to make soup and sandwiches for my dinner, do you have time to join me.” Bobby started to cry, “What’s the matter?”
“I have no place to go. I don’t want to go back outside, it’s too cold.” I open a few cans of chicken soup and started to heat it while I was thinking about what Bobby was saying. The kid was a throw away. I read about kids being put out on the street, this is the first kid I met.
“Bobby, if you like you could stay here for the night.”
I felt his arms around my legs as he hugged me. I’m tall at 6’6’’ and Bobby just reached my waist. I must have looked like a giant to him. “It’s ok Bobby, we’ll work something out.” There was no way I’d turn him out tonight. “Bobby, do you like grilled cheese sandwiches?” I know everyone likes chicken soup and the canned soup I buy is the top of the line, it’s the brand with the most chicken. Some brands are mostly broth and you need to go fishing for the chicken.
I led him back to the table and to his hot chocolate. “Grilled cheese?” He nodded yes and he began to drink his chocolate. The soup was almost ready when I made three grilled cheese sandwiches. I ladled the soup into two bowls, placed them on the table, cut the sandwiches in half and placed them on the table and made myself a cup of coffee.“Be careful with the soup, it’s hot.”
I sat there slowly eating as I watched Bobby. For some reason he drew me to him, was it the eyes or because this is the first street kid I have met. I never married, therefore, I never had any kids. Even if I was married, I wouldn’t be fathering any children, I’m gay.
It didn’t take Bobby long to finish the soup and two sandwiches. He was so skinny I wondered where he put it. “There is more soup do you want it” He shook his head no and rubbed his stomach. “Bobby, how would you like to stay the night as my guest?” He got out of his chair and threw himself at me. “I take that as a yes?”
He nodded his head and started to cry again. “How about you taking a shower and then you can sleep in the guest room downstairs. I took him to the shower, told him to put his clothes outside of the door and I’d wash them for him. “I’ll put some clothes here for you to wear while your clothes are drying.”
I showed him where the towels were and gave him an extra toothbrush. I closed the door and went to find some clothes for him to wear. I got one of my t-shirts and a pair of jogging pants with a draw cord at the waist. I laughed thinking what he would look like in these clothes.
Gathering them up, I took them down to the bathroom, outside the door were his clothes. I place my clothes there and went back up to the laundry room. As I put the clothes into the washer, I noted the sizes. If I feel like I do now, in the morning we’ll be going shopping.
I was watching the news waiting for the weather report when he walked into the room. I almost laughed, the t-shirt would have been enough, it hung to his knees and the neck was so large it almost fell off. “Come and sit here beside me, I want to see what the weather report will be for tomorrow.” He sat beside me as I put my arm around him drawing him closer. As I listened to the news, I looked at him, “Bobby, can you tell me why you’re on the street?”
He looked at me, “My dad said I was useless and told me to leave.”
How could any father look at this boy and tell him to leave? “Why did he say you were useless? You're a very considerate boy, anybody in your situation would’ve taken my crackers and kept them, you returned them.” I looked onto those blue eyes and could see tears. “Look Bobby, you can tell me anything. You're not going to sleep outside. There’s a warm bed waiting for you downstairs.”
He looked like he was thinking, could he trust this stranger or not. He thought his dad loved him but he was wrong about that. I could see the confusion in Bobby’s face. After thinking for a few moments I thought I’d try a different tactic. “I’d never throw away a child. I’ll probably never be a father, but I’d love to have a child in my life.”
“Why won’t you be a father?”
“I prefer men to women, I’m gay.” I watched Bobby’s eyes when I said that. He looked at me and I saw relief and then dread in the eyes. “Bobby, because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to have sex with a child. I like men not boys.”
The dread in his eyes vanished, I knew what he was thinking, sex for a warm bed. That thought must go through every homeless child’s mind tonight.
When the weather report came on, it wasn’t good news. The cold spell was expected to last several days. “Let’s get ready for bed, come and I’ll tuck you in.” I walked downstairs with him my hand on his shoulder. I pulled down the covers, he knelt by the bed and said a prayer.
When he was finished he said, "Thanks Mommy”. I tucked him in and wished him a good night. I left the door slightly open and the light in the entry way on.
Going back upstairs I put his clothes into the dryer, watched a little more TV until the clothes were dried. I called Mrs. Marlow and told her to take the day off. Then I called a lawyer friend and invited him to have lunch tomorrow at Luigi’s. My circle of friends and I ate there often, good Italian food and we’re appreciated by the owner. That may seem strange to those who don’t understand about gay acceptance. There are a lot of places that refuse to serve the gay community, and then there’s Luigi’s. The owner is a smart man, money has no sex and he was in a business to make money. By catering to the gay crowd, he was guaranteed a successful business. The gay crowd appreciated that and supported him.
Laying in bed that night, I kept thinking about Bobby. If I could get his father to sign the right papers, he could be my son. I think my heart took an extra beat at that thought. I couldn’t get his eyes out of my head.
- 35
- 30
- 13
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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