Eddie
By Bridgette M. Crosby    

  The morning was brisk and beautiful. Brilliant dewdrops clung to the thirsty Kansas grass and soaked the bottoms of Eddie’s tattered overalls. The wetness sent a shiver up his bare back, and goose bumps covered his small, dirty arms.  He clutched the front pocket of his overalls carefully as he jogged through the field towards the old stone farmhouse.  This morning he had wanted to surprise his mama and had gotten up extra early.  He had carefully opened the old wooden door, quietly sneaked out of the house, and slipped out into the gray mist of morning. He had thrown his arms thru an old gingham shirt and started to run toward the river.

After quietly crouching in the reeds for what seemed like hours, he had finally spied a crane sitting near its nest and had watched in awe as the beautiful bird stretched its wings and lifted itself gracefully in flight.  He crawled toward the nest in anticipation, ignoring the biting chill now cutting through his wet clothes.  He reached the nest just as the sun crowned on the horizon, filling the cool mist of predawn with the golden glory of morning. Eddie paused and stared down into the nest as the riverbank suddenly became a raucous concert of songbirds, each trying to show up the other in the midst of Mother Nature’s morning concert.

He could not believe his luck. There, not twelve inches in front of him, were the most beautiful eggs he had ever seen.  Light yellow and at least six inches across, one egg rested gently against the other.  The golden glow of dawn made it seem as if the eggs themselves were emanating the light.  Eddie trembled.  How long had it been since he had eaten an egg, or anything besides peaches and watermelon? Two, maybe three, weeks?  Mama had refused to butcher her last laying hen in the hopes that she would start producing again, but the hen had disappeared the day before last without a trace.

Eddie licked his lips and focused on his mission. He tenderly reached into the nest and picked up an egg.  The warmth soothed his cold fingers, and he wrapped both hands around it, savoring the moment.  He cradled the first egg against his chest and tried to open the bib pocket of his overalls so as to put the egg into it.  The egg was too large, so he knelt on one knee and tried to slip it into his side pocket.  The egg barely fit, and he had to stretch the wet material before the egg would slip inside.  Gently, he reached down and picked up the second, larger egg.  He peered at it closely and rubbed it against his rough cheek.  A large smile spread across his dirty little face as he felt the smooth texture and warmth of the egg. Eddie realized the second egg would not fit in any of his pockets, so he cradled it in his hands and carefully began to pick his way through the reeds, up the riverbank, through the grass, and across the dusty fields.

  “I knew I shoulda taken Fidelius’ boots afore I left this morning,” he mumbled to himself.  Shoes these days were hard to come by, especially since the drought had wiped out the crops long before harvest. Money was scarce and times were tough. Eddie was used to making do without shoes, but sometimes he secretly wished he could get a pair of lace up boots like his brothers’. Sometimes it seemed like Fidelius and Jerome got everything new, while Eddie got the hand-me-downs and the beatings. Whatever the case, Eddie had long since learned that belly achin’ wasn’t worth the beatin’.  As he neared the farm, the cuts and scrapes on his feet became unbearable.  Every step became harder than the last, and, finally, he slumped to his knees and took a break. Ever so carefully, he set the beautiful crane eggs in the grass and stretched his legs out.  He pulled up one foot and then the other and began to rub them.  Bits of mud and blood had mixed together to form a sticky oozing mess, making the cuts from the grass sting and burn even more.

Sucking in his breath, he stood and blurred the pain from his mind. He had to make it the rest of the way to the farmhouse. Suddenly, there was a movement inside the screened porch.  A second later Eddie’s older brother Andy pushed open the squeaky wooden door and ran down the steps.  “I hate you! I’m leaving and I’m never coming back!” the boy yelled as he quickly ran toward the dusty road. Eddie watched as Andy wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve and continued to run down the road.  Eddie crouched and waited. He had the eerie feeling that something bad had happened. Anticipation knotted his stomach, and sweat drenched his body as he realized the meaning of Andy’s angry shout: Andy was leaving and never coming back. Eddie’s heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. Should he go with Andy?  What about Ma and the girls? Why didn’t Andy wait for him like they planned?