Fiona’s story….
“I did it!” Fiona called out, slamming the door to the small cottage where she lived with her mother and father.
Fiona’s mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What did ye do, mo leanbh?”
Fiona raced up to her mother, waving the certificate in her hand. “I won the math contest today at school!”
“Oh my! What an amazing feat! Why didna ye tell me that ye were doin’ this? I would have come to the school!” Helena Reid asked, bending down to take her daughter into her arms for a congratulatory hug.
Fiona wrapped her skinny arms around her mother’s neck, her happiness complete. “Because Daddy told me that math was for boys.” She pulled back and squinched up her nose. “The boys are dummies. They didna know how to do some of the math problems, mathair!”
Helena laughed. “Ye dinna listen to your father, mo leanbh. He’s just a crazy man who doesna know any better!” She laughed and hugged Fiona again. “I’m so proud of you!”
“What’s going on?” Duncan Ried asked, taking off his wool coat and hat, dumping them onto the sofa and forgetting about them. “What’s my little lass up to today?” he asked, moving to kiss his wife and forgetting that Fiona was there. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
Helena rubbed her hands together, worried now. “Well, we have chicken soup. But that’s the last of the chicken” She glanced over at Fiona, who was listening intently to the conversation. “I’ll figure something else out.”
“Ye do that, love,” he replied, then took a heaping bowl of the soup, carrying it into the tiny family room to eat and leaving the remainder for his wife and daughter.
Fiona saw the concern in her mother’s face and placed a reassuring hand on her mother’s arm. “Donna worry, Momma,” she told her. “I’ll be really good at math and will be able te find a good job. I’ll bring home money for us verra soon!”
Helena smiled fondly at her tiny daughter, fighting back the tears. “Ye’re such a love!” She would go out tomorrow and find more work. They just needed enough money to get through the week. Oh, if she’d only listened to her friends and not married that good for nothing jerk!
Then her eyes fell to Fiona and her thoughts vanished. If she hadn’t married Duncan, then she wouldna have this sweet angel. Fiona made everything better. No matter what stupidity her husband concocted, Fiona was the light in her life.
Callum’s story…
His feet hurt. His arms hurt. Even his nose hurt! Every part of his body hurt! He’d just spent the last eighteen hours hauling every heavy from one end of a construction site to the other. Anyone who didn’t want to lift something called out to him and told him to carry their burdens to whatever corner of the building they needed the materials.
It actually hurt to lay down.
Okay, maybe it hurt because he slept on a sleeping bag that was laid out on a concrete slab.
He was also hungry. Unfortunately, there was no money for food today.
“You look like crap.”
Callum opened his eyes to glare at the other guy sharing a corner of this forsaken warehouse.
“Go to hell.”
Marco chuckled, then tossed something to him. It landed with a thud on the concrete next to his sleeping bag. Because it sounded like food, he opened his eyes and looked at it.
Canned stew?
He hated stew. But at this point, he was too hungry to care what it was. He dug into the bucket that held all of his personal items until his fingers wrapped around the can opener. With careful precision, he opened the can of stew. He didn’t need a spoon. He was too hungry. Instead, he tipped the can of stew open and let the gelatinous junk clunk down into his mouth. He barely took the time to chew, his stomach hurting too much to care how the food was received.
When the can was empty, he reached in with his finger, trying to get just a few more calories from the juice on the sides of the metal can. When there was nothing more to eat, he sighed and leaned back on his sleeping bag. Closing his eyes, he tried to settle his stomach. Beef stew might be the best canned food in terms of nutrition, but it still wasn’t tasty. His stomach churned for about twenty minutes before finally settling down.
While he waited for his stomach to calm down, he calculated the amount of money he’d earned today. He’d worked eighteen hours at ten dollars an hour. The foreman paid him cash, so there was no need to factor in taxes. He looked around, wondering what he’d do with all of that money come pay day on Friday. Just a few more days.
Friday arrived and the foreman slapped a wad of cash in his hand. “You did a great job this week, Callum. Just…get rid of the accent, okay?” he suggested. “I don’t know where it’s from, but it sorta freaks out the others.” He slapped Callum on the back and walked away. “See ya Monday. Don’t spend all of your loot in one place.”
Callum stared at the cash. He’d worked more than sixty hours this week. That should be six hundred dollars. But when he counted it out, he discovered that he had six hundred and fifty dollars. The foreman had given him and extra fifty bucks? Why?
Callum didn’t care. He walked off the construction site and contemplated his options. In the end, he knew exactly what he needed.
A half hour later, he looked around at the warehouse. “You hungry?” he called out.
Moments later, four other heads popped up from various corners of the garbage filled space. Four sets of hungry, wary eyes. He lifted the bag of burgers and fries in the air. “No soda, but I got burgers for everyone.”
Four sets of eyes looked at each other, not sure if they should trust such an unexpected boon. The four other people living in the space stepped out carefully. Step by step, they approached the large bag of food.
“It’s okay. I didn’t poison anything.” He laid out the five cheeseburgers on a large, rusted metal plate. He had no idea what the metal plate might have been used for in the past, but it would be their makeshift table tonight. Then he dumped all of the fries into the bag and tore off the top, creating a makeshift “bowl” of fries. “Have at it,” he said to the others.
Each of them found a “chair” made of something and brought it closer to the metal plate. Angela, Kasim, Dash and Marco stared at the cheeseburger, then at Callum. He knew what they were thinking. “Each of you helped me out this week.” He tilted his head towards the meal. “Thank you.” Then he took a bite of his burger, devouring the delicious if non-nutritious meal, savoring the flavors. His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see the others as they unwrapped their cheeseburgers, but he heard it. He also heard each of them moan with appreciation as they dug into the food.
“Oh, this is the best!” Angela sighed.
There were several muffles of agreement. Finally, someone looked up and said, “Hey, I thought you had some sort of Scottish accent. But you’re words sound American now. Why is that?”
Callum shrugged. “My boss said that some of my co-workers didn’t like the accent. So I’m trying an American accent now.”
Marco shook his head. “They’re idiots. You should keep the accent.”
Dash didn’t agree. “Get rid of it,” he interjected. “It is too distinguishable. People will remember an accent. If you’re trying to hide from the world, then you don’t want to be remembered.”
Kasim agreed, speaking up without his usual accent as well. “He’s right. If you need to disappear, then the less you stand out, the better.”
Callum listened to their advice. He’d been living on the street since he was fifteen. Right after his parents had died on a car crash, the authorities had tried to take him away, put him into a foster home. He’d resisted, hence why he was here, living in a warehouse to survive.
But he’d do better than this. He would…he wasn’t sure, but working in a construction site, he knew that he could do better. That night, before falling asleep, he pulled out the book he’d stolen from the library. He’d teach himself the information that he needed. Somehow, he was going to make it. He wasn’t going to live in a warehouse for the rest of his life. He knew that the others here in the warehouse studied as well. All five of them wanted to get out, to make something of their lives.
Maybe if they worked together, they could teach each other what they needed to know. College. That was his goal. He’d get into college, get a degree in finance and…and…?
He’d buy up properties and fix them up, then sell them for a profit. Yes, that’s what he’d do. And he’d be better than all of the others! After that, he’d never eat any kind of stew again in his life!
