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.
David C. McLavic - 13. Chapter 13
The next morning while we were doing our morning chores the opportunity to tell Mom came up. As we started to milk the cows, “Davy, someone is in the hayloft. Look at this hay all over the floor. This isn’t normal, it looks like it has fallen in large bunches. Normally there is very little straw here. I wonder if one of the men was cleaning the loft?”
“Why would they do that?”
“They could be turning it so the hay on the bottom doesn’t rot. If it gets wet it will rot.”
The rest of the morning I thought about that. The amount of hay in the loft wasn’t that much. New hay would be added in a few months but there was plenty of room. Mom, that is where she stays. She would know about the loft and wouldn’t care if she made a mess.
“I am going to have to leave in a few days, but I’ll be back next summer.” I said that loud enough that if Mom was in the hay loft, she would hear me.
“Why do you have to leave? We have the rest of July and a few weeks in August before you have to go home for school.”
“I think Dad wants us home so we can prepare for school.” I didn’t want to tell him it was because Uncle Carl and Mom can’t get along. Not that I blame Uncle Carl for his attitude but I didn’t like his physical treatment of Mom. I was afraid he would kill her in his rage of hatred.
Now, if Mom was in the hay loft, as I suspected, she would know about Dad’s phone call. All I could do was wait until she approached me.
We were back from picking apples for Aunt Sara when I saw Mom standing in front of the porch.
“There’s your mom. I’ll bet she was in the loft and heard what you said.”
I was hoping for that. “David, what did your dad say?”
I told Mom about the train arrangements. She wanted to know if he said when the tickets would be available. I told her they would be available now. That smile, it was a wicked smile, I knew she was going to do something that would cause a problem for Uncle Carl.
“Carl, you need to tell your mom and dad that my mom has something up her sleeve. They should also know we would be leaving probably tomorrow morning.”
Carl looked at me with fear in his eyes. He was aware of the fights between Mom and Uncle Carl.
That evening at dinner, Mom told Aunt Sara we would be leaving in the morning.
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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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