Waitin' by the Front Porch Swing

"Family Time"

 

Every so often Mama took us on a family picnic down by the creek. Today was just such a day.

It was already nine thirty Saturday morning and boy, was we ready to go…

While Mama worked in the kitchen getting lunch ready, we got our t-shirts, sneakers and cut-off blue jeans on. When everything was ready we grabbed the goodies and off we went.

We just couldn’t wait for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, sodas and good ol’ homemade brownies for dessert! Mama always brought along somethin’ special for our old dog, Rags; today, it was a couple of pieces of leftover sausage from breakfast.

Rags was your typical mixed mutt with mottled brown fur and big brown eyes. He walked with me most everywhere I went and kept me company when Matt and Brody weren’t around. Heck, he even slept on my feet at the end of the bed! He’d been doing that for the two years since Daddy died.

We walked outside and he was in his usual spot; waitin’ by the front porch swing. “Come on, boy!” I called and Rags came runnin’. Down the back yard in a line we headed to the trail at the edge of the woods. “Look at the size of that squirrel!” Matt cried. He loved huntin’ and that one was definitely eatin’ size. “Too bad we’re fishin’ and not huntin’!” Mama said, playfully.

As we rounded the corner at the end of the trail, there it was. Since we’d had a pretty wet summer the creek gushed along steady. Mama opened up the blanket and spread it out on the ground while I walked down to the creek with Rags by my side. “Don’t go too far!” Mama called. She always worried for nothin’. I had put a new collar on the Rags right before we left and he was pawin’ at it like it was uncomfortable. I knelt down and loosened it a tad and he took off to the water, free as a bird. He’d splash and play with the crawdads when we were at the creek like he was still a pup, but we figured he was about nine years old now. Matt said that was about four hundred and fifty in dog years. Since Matt was pretty good at math, I reckoned he was right. Matt and Brody walked up on the hill and tossed the baseball back and forth.

Mama sat on the blanket just soaking up the sun for a bit while we played. About one o’clock or so, she started setting out the food. When she’d finished, she hollered, “Let’s eat, boys!” You’d a thought we hadn’t eat in a month of Sundays the way we crowded on that blanket. Matt had an appetite like a horse so Mama always fixed him three sandwiches.

While we ate we talked about what was going on at school. I always loved to poke at Brody about his girlfriends… who was it this week? Gwen or Sarah? Me and Matt had to join in a rousing chorus of “Sara and Brody, sittin’ in a tree…” “Hush up, boys. Leave your brother be!” Mama chided. But she couldn’t help but chuckle a little at Brody blushin’.

Then Matt told us how he saw Brody holdin’ hands with Barbara Carter behind the gym while Brody leaned out of Mama’s site and drew his finger across his neck. I’m not sure if he meant “Shut yer mouth!” or “I’m gonna’ kill you later”. Probably both.

We finished up lunch and sat back washing the brownies down with what was left of our sodas when Mama remembered the sausage she brought for Rags. “Go get the dog so we can feed him.” Mama said. So I ran back down to the creek yelling, “Come here boy! Come here boy! You wanna eat?” “Strange”, I thought. “He usually comes runnin’ soon as I call.” As I got down to the edge of the creek I walked up and down callin’ for Rags. That’s when I looked down and noticed somethin’ blue floatin’ at the edge of the creek barely peekin’ out of the water. When I waded out just a bit and reached over to pick it up, I realized it was Rags’ collar.

“Rags! Come here, boy!” I just started hollerin’ his name over and over anxiously. Mama and the guys heard me callin’ and ran down to ask me what was wrong. “Mama, I found this in the water.” I was soaked as I held out the collar and Mama took it from my hand. “It’s alright, son. We’ll find him. She looked away but I could see tears well up in her eyes. She just started searchin’ and callin’ for Rags.

We all went up and down the creek and through the woods for the rest of the afternoon callin’ and lookin’, hopin’ and prayin’ we’d find him, but we were soon runnin’ out of daylight. We were all exhausted from the search when Mama finally said, “We gotta head home boys. We’ll look again tomorrow.”

 

But she knew Rags wasn’t comin’ back. I think we all did.

 

Funny how maturity soaks into a boy’s chest at times like that. Rags walked with me, ran with me and played with me since I could remember. And I couldn’t help but think about the day I said goodbye to Daddy and how I cried. Then I thought about the tears in Mamas’ eyes when I handed her Rags collar.

I wanted to cry for me and I wanted to cry for Rags, but I wanted to be strong for Mama.

…so this time I didn’t cry.

Author's Note

Added Back

Reviews

[Jenny Davis]

Aw, I am so sad right now...poor Rags! I know how our pets can be just like one of our friends or closer...great chapter, you told this really well! Also, the ending paragraph about maturity soaking in was REALLY, really good....I'm sorry you lost him :( Great write though :)