Outline

Characters-
Dad- Garrison (Garry)- Mid forties, balding slightly in the middle of his head, eyes sunken from working long hours, married with one child, construction.
Garry's wife- Melinda- Reserved woman keeping a secret for her husband
Garry's son- Charlie- Nine years old, animal lover with an unexpected take on just how to keep a pet
The Pet- To be named

Setting- off a long winding dirt road in Burham, Nebraska, small grey house set in the trees. Gardens kept by Melinda scatter the yard in her attempt to keep things looking nice. A brown, hand built shed stands quietly in the back yard, at the edge of the treeline.

Outline-
Introduction to characters, setting up examples of life in their family.
Introduce the darker side of Garry, introduce Pet
Reasons for Pet
Family reactions to Pet
To be continued...

Melinda knelt beside the neatly arranged rocks placed earlier that morning in her smallest of three gardens. The last remnants of dew seeped through the weave of her long skirt and onto her pasty skin. She wiggled a bit as her feet began to go numb, clipping the vegetation simultaneously. It was a decent garden, about as decent as it should have been, considering it was the one she had built to represent her son, Charlie, just over nine years ago. She had been satisfied with the variety of plants she had selected, but over the years, as one began to wilt and another began to dominate, she had grown far less pleased with the arrangement. It wasn't that she was a high class gardener by any means, simply keeping up these three gardens to celebrate her family. She just wished this one had done better. Dull garden gloves wrapped around frail hands that seemed to clip all on their own, snipping first the large, cumbersome branches before moving on to the more fine detailing that came with trimming the smallest. She wiggled over yet again to get at the plant at a better angle, and from around the plant noticed her son gazing at her from the back porch. He smiled at her halfheartedly, knowing that his mother only went at plants like that when they were very out of sorts. She made an attempt to smile back at him, but that attempt was lost as Charlie laid his head on the railing. Melinda knew he would soon be running after her with tears, splinters speckling his cheek. She sighed, and resumed her clipping. As she made the last round, getting to the one side of the plant she had not yet cleaned up, she noticed two footprints in the damp soil, and in between them, a heart carved into the ground with a stick that lay not a foot away. She tilted her head back up to see him on the porch, this time with a smile he would not miss, but he had left. She shifted her knees onto the prints and continued snipping.
          Melinda stood, a bit dizzy, and admired her work. No longer did the Chokeberry outdo the Barberry, and it was all she could do to hope that the Barberry could reclaim it's place in Charlie's garden. She peeled the damp gloves from her hands and laid them beside the shears. Charlie reappeared on the back porch, and swung himself on the railing, hanging off of it much like a young chimp would from a mangled tree in the amazon. Melinda made her way to her son, and patted his head.
            "Thank you for the garden Mom," he grinned at her, the teeth on either side of the front most ones leaving gaping holes in his tiny mouth.
            "It needed some sprucing up," she replied, glancing back at the Chokeberry. She shook his hair from in front of his eyes, and made her way up the steps onto the porch. With a heavy sigh, she slumped into the wicker chair that had forever been called Her's.
           "Charlie," she started, "would you please bring me a glass of water?"
           At once, Charlie swung himself back up onto the porch, his bear feet coming down hard on the damp wood, and he scurried into the house.
           "Charlie, little man!" boomed his husky father from the dining table, his wide smile surrounded by this hair was smeared with melted butter.
            Charlie eyed the corn, fresh on it's cob and held in his fathers plump fingers, and made a leap to land in front of the burly man. Charlie looked at the ear of yellow corn for a moment, thinking that perhaps his mother could grow something like this, wishing she would. He then looked up into his fathers dark grey eyes and grinned so that his own eyes were pushed closed by his rosy cheeks. His father held out the corn, and Charlie nibbled from end to end, his face accumulating butter like his father's. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and then wiped his sleeve on the much larger sleeve of his dad. He giggled, and dashed into the kitchen to get the water for his mother.
            On the edge of the sink, along with the washed dishes and multiple canisters of spices, was a plate of steaming corn. Three more ears were stacked into an elongated pyramid, looking just as delicious as the one his father had been eating. Charlie finished filling the small glass with water, and hurried to turn off the tap and dash out to his mother. As soon as that was done, he scampered back inside, and sat down with his father and his own ear of corn. (write some about dinner)
            (After dinner) His father stood up, and started for the sink to rinse his hands, Melinda followed, taking Charlie's plate as she went.
            "Charlie," his father summoned, "will you please feed the animals now, I didn't get around to it earlier, they are probably expecting something."
            Charlie nodded, grabbed the last ear of corn from the plate, and jogged bare footed out the door and down off the porch. The backyard was a simple plot of grass, a stream that ran through the far edge of the lawn, and a shack that his father had built sometime ago, before Charlie had been born. The chickens came waddling up to his small feet, and he danced around to avoid being pecked. His thin fingers grabbed a few kernals from the cob and spread them around the grass. The chickens immediately began to bob their yellow heads to the ground in search of the late meal. Charlie turned to face the shed. He felt bad, because his father's pet could not come out and be free like the chickens, but those bad feelings soon ceased as he realized that it would get the rest of the corn and be happier. He reached up as tall as he could at the side of the shed, just barely pushing the corn through the tilted open window. It was the only window on the shed, and Charlie could not understand why his father had not put more in. He heard his father's pet scurry around inside, and begin to gnaw on the cob.  'Good boy', thought Charlie as he petted the side of the shed in as comforting a way as he could. He turned and ran back to the house, swinging up under the porch rail and thumping down onto the wood with damp, bare feet.
            Melinda stood beside the sink, her soft hands circling plates with hot, soap water. Charlie approached her silently and threw his arms around her thin waist, making her startle and begin to laugh as she spun about and flicked fingertips of dripping fluid into his grinning face.
           "Daddy's pet said thank you for the corn, Mom," Charlie said, his grin growing. Melinda's eyes slowly retreated from her son's, and her face flattened as her hands slowed in their circles..
           "Did he really?" She asked rhetorically, her voice serious and nearly afraid.
           Charlie skipped a little ways away from her and dug his toes into the carpet just on the edge of the kitchen linoleum. "Well, not really, animals can't talk, silly," his innocence amused her. She did not want to let Charlie see her concern, and smiled weakly at him, her brown eyes suddenly heavy.
            "I think Dad is going to town, you should take a trip with him."
             Charlie's face brightened, he nodded quickly and dashed out to find his father in the front yard, admiring the work Melinda had done on his son's  garden. His hands were folded, thick fingers twisted together and his eyes gazed slowly around, lost in some sort of thought. He heard patting feet, and shifted his eyes to see Charlie charging at him with his endless grin. Garrison unclasped his hands and spread his arms out to embrace the small boy.