Deamons

Chapter 5 Let the Abuse Begin

Let the Abuse Begin

Blup, blup, blup, the big wheel peddle trike with black hard plastic wheels rolls by. The boy is three now and he has some good times. He loves his little dog. During the hot summer his parents managed to bring a wading pool home from the store by shoving it in the backseat with him. It may have been small but it was huge to him. The father goes to work early and the mother likes to sleep in. He has learned to feed himself and the little dog in the morning by breaking into the fridge and stealing away sticks of butter and raw hotdogs for the pair to feast upon. If his life was bad then he did not know it.

He is outside watching the neighbor kids ride their big wheel trikes. His parents cannot afford one. He wants just one turn on that slick rumbling ride. "Can I try?" he asks. "NO! get your own," the little rider answers grumbling by. The boy stands there watching red cheeked with blonde almost white mop top hair flipping back and forth when he rotates his head watching the boys ride by. The boys eat the attention up. It appeals to the them to have something someone wants. Luxury at three is having what someone else wants in the neighborhood.

Rejection is at the orbs of the eyes feeling the walls and lopping the scene up like a hungry dog. Envy is right by him. Still a small deamon he tippy toes up to orb of the eyes so he can see what is going on. He is drawn in by the action of these boys. "We want one of those bike things like the punks have!" Envy squawks.

He makes his way over to where Anger likes to hang out. Halfway between the gifts and deamons in the great hall. "Well?" Envy questions. "Well what? They're kids," Anger answers. "Smack the smaller one! Take a ride on that thing! Let's get this thing rolling here," Envy whines. Anger turns around and gets caught by the look in Hope's eyes. His expression is so blank. There is nothing there for him. Anger does not fit in with the gifts. Not wanting to be like the deamons, he goes down. Down deep in the bowels nestling himself as best as he can in there wanting to just waste away.

Hope holds vigil. Strength teaming with Courage manages to push Rejection and the other deamons away from the orbs of the eyes so Hope might see out. Inside the house looking out the window is the boy's great aunt. She witnessed the boys reveling in having more than her nephew. She never married and worked hard her whole life. She is fuming at what she sees. If my brother was alive he would not stand for this, she thinks. "Starke!" she opens the door and calls out. He runs in then she orders the father to take her and the boy to the store where you, "purchase those thingy majiggy's," and that's what they do, in fact, she insists they buy the best one they had. When they go back and for many days on the boy loves riding. Hope makes riding a symbol that sometimes good things come when you just look around for a little help, and in the child another gift emerges from the experience. Kindness, which was only able to come to be with the absence of Anger.

Time passes and the first day of big kid's school is at hand. The boy has grown and is larger than most his age. His mother started working at a nearby grocery chain. One particular mom who often comes through her line has a boy starting big kids school at the same time. "Starke is so big. I think he must have grown almost four inches since now and the start of kindergarten," the lady comments. "Does he get his size from his father?" His mother taps away the keys with one hand as she moves the groceries past her. It is the day and age when stores have cash registers that needed a person to punch in the prices of everything. The best cashiers have most of the groceries memorized and do not need to look up prices making their lines move much quicker. People pull their carts up and assess which cashier is the quickest. A fast checker can move a much larger line through in the time it takes a slower checker to move just a few. "No, I don't know where he gets his size from," his mother answers as she swiftly slides the products by. "Well it must be nice having such a large boy. I am so worried about Amos getting picked on. Hmm. Hey do you think you could get Starke to watch over him?" "12.98, 5.76," his mother wanted to beat out the lines next to her and was hardly paying attention. "Oh what? Huh, sure I will ask Starke to do that for you." "Oh, really that would be so wonderful. Are you sure?" "Oh yea, he can do that for you. All rung up that's a hundred and twenty-eight dollars and fifteen cents."