A Tale of Deception

Months later, spring was ending as summer drew near with the sun taking longer to across the sky, and daily temperatures climbed.

  As morning dawned, an early breeze was gently flowing through her open window, giving her curtains life. Reluctantly Ann threw back the covers, and got up. She had to put in the effort, the time, and the work to keep her hope of financial rescue alive.

  After showering, she dressed, and stood in front of the mirror, to finish her makeup. Reviewing her reflection, she could see nothing there to encourage her. Dark circles hung under her soft, sad eyes, with worry and exhaustion easily seen on her face.

  It’s so hard to have faith Lord, when you’re hungry, worried and in need of help, and nothing seems to be changing.

  Forlornly she turned off the light, as she walked down the short hall to the kitchen.

  I know it’s faith that keeps hope alive, Lord, but it’s flickering.

  Breakfast was waiting for her when she walked into the clean, little room. It was her mother’s habit and desire to rise early and prepare what little they had. Emma enjoyed keeping the apartment clean and trying to support Ann in as many ways as she could.

  Ann thought again how comforting it was to have her there.

  She really does love us, Ann realized with tenderness for her.

  This morning’s breakfast consisted of a half slice of toast. The absence of jam made the thin spread of butter evident.

  At least the coffee’s hot, if you can call this watered-down brown liquid, coffee.

  “Good morning, Mom,” she said, trying to give her mother a warm smile as she hugged her. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Just fine dear,” she responded happily.

  Ann observed the absence of a lunch bag.

  Nothing for lunch, again. Thank goodness Marty can eat at school, but what is she going to do this summer?

  “Marty, are you ready for school?” Ann called to her daughter down the hall.

  “Just a sec, Mom… almost ready,” Marty’s voice came from her room.

  Sitting down at the table, Ann sighed, one of many escaping her lips nowadays. As she talked with her mother, munched her dry toast, and sipped her hot liquid, she noticed her mother’s hands trembling.

  Among all the worries she carried with her that day, the one about her mother’s health floated to the surface. What could she say? She had asked before about it, but Emma would only say, “I’m just fine dear.”

  What can I do? She probably needs to go to the clinic, but how can I take her? Even if I can convince her to go, how can I afford it? Welfare will only cover part of the costs. And if something should happened to Mom, to any of us, how could I live with the guilt of not providing for them?

  Ann again turned her heart to God, praying for His assistance.

  Marty entered the kitchen, stuffing the last of her school books into her backpack, and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Homework all done?” Ann asked absentmindedly, knowing it was done. Marty loved school and learning new things.

  “Yep,” Marty replied as she looked at the scant piece of bread, then longingly at her mother, with a final glance for Grandma.

  “I’m sorry dear, there isn’t any milk either,” Emma responded sadly to Marty’s look.

  “That’s okay,” Marty replied softly. But it was hard to concentrate at school and listen to the teacher, when she was so hungry.

  “Gotta go,” Ann said, standing in exasperation. “You can eat your toast in the car,” she informed Marty in a softer tone.

  “See you tonight, Mom,” Ann said as they left the small home.

  What in the world are we going to do? Is there even anything for dinner? Is Mom even eating? Is that why her hands tremble? Does she have something for lunch?

  Ann agonized as she descended the stairs to her car below. Unlocking it, she turned to look back at the apartment uneasily.

  I’ve got to know if she’s eating. She’ll make herself sick, if she doesn’t. I’m going to find out tonight.

  And it’s time I look for some help, she thought with resignation as she drove out onto the street.

  We can’t go on like this. I don’t know if I can qualify for aid if I’m working, but I’m going to find out. I’ve got to do something.

  At the school parking lot, Ann reached over and hugged her only child. She watched her daughter run up to her friends.

  Marty turned, waved good-bye, and then joined the flow of students walking toward their classes.

  School will be out soon. I’m glad Mom is there to take care of Marty for the summer, but that doesn’t solve the lack of food, or the question of a place to live. What must I do, Lord?

  Ann pulled out of the school parking lot and drove toward Mica, to her work, and her possible prospects, without any solutions.

 

  Mica