Roddy wiped a tear from his eye. He knew his dad had not been right in the head since his mother died and he got laid off from work. To cope with the pain he started drinking. These days he spent more time drunk than sober. Roddy had learned to fend for himself He cooked his own meals when he could find food in the house, washed his own clothes, and cleaned house while trying to go to school and hold a part time job.
If ever a young man felt unloved by everyone it was Roddy Cook. He drug himself to the bathroom to get ready. After a quick shower and dressing, Roddy went to the kitchen to find something to eat. When he opened the rusty refrigerator door the only thing he found inside was beer cans. Looking on the counter he found the milk jug left out and opened. One quick smell notified the milk had spoiled. Next the to the milk jug sat an empty cereal box from one of dad's late night binges. It looked like it would be another day at school with a growling stomach until lunch. At least he could be assured of lunch everyday on the free lunch plan.
As Roddy walked down the steps of the old single wide mobile home he suddenly remembered he had a test that morning. He told himself he would get up early and study the night before, but after work he had been too exhausted to study. He overslept and the dowsing of cold water had driven out any thoughts of the upcoming test until that moment. He rummaged through some papers trying to cram while he walked to school.
As the wind blew gently, Roddy caught a whiff of a pungent odor. He knew the odor came from him. He had showered but did not have any soap or deodorant. What little he made from sacking groceries could only pay for food. He often used hand soap in the school bathrooms to masquerade the body odor.
Once he arrived at school he had to face the gauntlet. A line of students waiting for the school doors to open began the all to familiar cat calls and relentless bullying. He tried to ignore their comments. He thought the old neurally rhyme about sticks and stones was not true. The words did hurt. A lot. Roddy rarely ever talked to anyone. He kept to himself. He did not have any friends and did not trust any of the adults around his life.
When he walked into Algebra class for the test the teacher looked at him scornfully. Rowdy knew he had a failing grade in the class but he honestly tried his best but his best was not good enough. One quick glance at the examination and Roddy knew he did not have a prayer to pass.
Dutifully he endured the remainder of his classes. In between classes he had to face the ridicule from schoolmates walking down the halls. All the while, his stomach growled louder and louder. He had not eaten anything since lunch the previous day. Lunch for the day was his favorite. Chicken Fried Steak. He tried not to appear too anxious as he received his tray. He found his usual isolated seat in the corner and sat down to eat. Just as he took his first bite something hit him in the back of the head.
When he turned to see what had hit him a group of football players began poking his food with their fingers, taunting him and pouring the entire salt shaker out on the food. With that the group left. All over the cafeteria others laughed at his plight. It was not the first time he had bene laughed at. One nibble and Roddy knew the food could no longer be eaten.
Sullen Roddy hurried out of the cafeteria to find an isolated spot to wipe away his tears. Too late. The same pack of ball players spotted him crying and their torment ensued. Finally he could not take anymore and skipped school for the rest of the day. He wandered around town waiting for his shift at work to begin. Several times he passed fast food establishments and wished he had a dollar to get something to eat. Anything to eat.
Eventually he found a picnic table under a shade tree. He decided to curl up and take a nap to take his mind off his growling stomach and to pass the time away. For the second time that day Roddy got startled awake. This time an intimidating police officer towered over him ordering him to move on. Roddy tried to explain his situation but the police officer listened unsympathetically.
Roddy collected his notebook and scuffled away. Time passed slowly before the start of his shift. His stomach hurt. He also felt weak and wondered how he would get through his shift to closing. Before clocking in he browsed the break room to see if someone had left any food behind. He found a partially eaten peanut butter cracker. He scarfed it down and then went to work.
A busy night made time pass by faster but it proved hard to sack people's groceries when he starved. One lady had a buggy load of food. Her spoiled bratty son insisted on a candy bar. She relented. Tempted Roddy slipped the candy bar in his pocket when nobody looked. Later the bratty boy pitched a fit causing a major scene over the candy bar. The flustered clerk gave the boy another one and Roddy pushed the groceries to their car.
Roddy waited anxiously for his break. When it came he took out the candy bar. By this time the chocolate had melted. He ate it like a wolf devouring the carcass of a kill. He even licked the wrapping to get the last drop. Lost in his thoughts a voice behind him startled him. It was the store manager calling Roddy to his office.
Roddy had no idea what the manager wanted. He was a nice guy. He had always treated Roddy fairly and given him extra hours when he could. He often asked how things were at Roddy's home. Most of the time Roddy lied and pretended things were fine. Mr. Howells was a good man but Roddy did not trust him anymore than he trusted his own father.
Mr. Howells shut the door behind Roddy and gestured for him to take a seat in front of his desk. The chair squeaked and Mr. Howells sat down looking at Roddy. At first Mr. Howells asked Roddy about things at home again. Roddy gave the same canned answers he always gave.
Mr. Howells then asked Roddy when he had eaten last? Further he wanted to know if he had food to eat back home. Mr. Howells pried too deep for Roddy's comfort. Next, Mr. Howells looked deep into Roddy's hollow blue eyes and asked him something way too personal. Mr. Howells asked Roddy if he had ever trusted Jesus Christ as his savior. Nothing could have been further from Roddy's mind. He had only been to church a half dozen times in his life and had felt judged for not having the proper Sunday clothing to wear so he never went back. In Roddy's estimation God had never done anything for him so he had no interest in doing anything for God.
The next question from Mr. Howells froze Roddy in his tracks. "Roddy, did you steal a candy bar tonight?'
"No. I did not." Roddy tried to remain calm. He had lied many times before and gotten away with it. Mr. Howells sadly shook his head. He then pointed to a computer screen showing video footage from the security cameras. The proof on the screen told the truth. The clerk saw Roddy take the candy bar and informed Mr. Howells. Mr. Howells then went through the security footage and found the evidence.
"Roddy, the store policy is clear on this issue. If you admit the truth we can work something out. So I ask you again, did you take the candy bar.?'
Stoically Roddy responded, "I already told you I did not take the candy bar. Why is everyone always down on me?" Angry he pounded the desk.
"Then I have no choice. I have to terminate your employment with us effective immediately. Your backpay will be mailed to you. Please collect your things and leave."
Angrily Roddy stamped out slamming the door behind him. He grabbed his notebook and headed home. Upon arriving he felt relieved that his father was not home. He usually frequented the bars at this time.
The candy bar had done little to satisfy his hunger pangs. Once again he rummaged around looking for anything to eat but found nothing. Not even a crumb. The events of the day came crashing down on his mind. The more he thought the more depressed he became. The more depressed he became the more hopeless everything seemed.
Recklessly he reached in the refrigerator and grabbed a can of beer. He did not like the way it tasted but it did soothe the hunger pangs in his stomach. If his father knew he sometimes drank his beer it would not be pleasant.
Outside he heard the puttering of his dad's truck pulling up. The front door opened and as usual his dad stumbled in the room drunk. The sight of Roddy holding a can of his beer drinking it angered the drunken father so badly he took a swing at Roddy connecting his fist with Roddy's jaw. The force of the blow sent both son and beer sprawling. A steady stream of profanity spewed from the drunken father's mouth.
Roddy ran to his room and locked the door. Soon the father stopped his cursing and then things got quiet. Later he heard his father snoring in the living room. Roddy had reached the end. The events of the day had pushed him past the tipping point.
With no hope and only pain added on top of pain Roddy formulated a plan. He went to his father's room and knelt down looking under the bed. There he found a 12 gauge shot gun. He then found a box of shells in a nightstand drawer.
He walked back to his room and loaded the gun All he could think was with one pull of the trigger he could end the pain. He contemplated writing a suicide note but then thought nobody cared. He felt alone. Trembling he picked up the loaded gun and looked at the barrel. He vacillated between putting it down and holding the barrel to his mouth.
In the end he could not think of one single reason to go on living. He tried. His father did not care. None of his teachers cared. He could not think of one single friend. Submitting to the despair he pointed the barrel toward his face and actually opened his mouth to the put the barrel in. The steel felt as cold as his heart. His fingers felt the way to the trigger. Once he located it he slowly began applying some pressure. "In a few seconds all the pain would be over," Roddy thought. Slowly he squeezed with his eyes tightly closed.............
The loud knock on the door caught Roddy by surprise. He pulled the barrel from his mouth and threw the gun on the bed with shaking hands. The knocking on the door grew louder. Roddy tried to pull himself together. He could not imagine who knocked on the door.
To his surprise on the front steps stood Mr. Howells with a sack full of groceries. Roddy's drunk father continued in his drunken stupor.
Mr. Howells began to unfold a hard to believe story. Once Roddy left his office earlier Mr. Howells had prayed for the troubled teen. His burden for Roddy increased throughout the evening to the point he felt he had get some food and make a personal visit. To sum it all up Mr. Howells relayed that he felt God had sent him there though unsure as to why.
Before the evening ended Roddy found hope in Mr. Howells' Jesus and had his old job back. Jesus averted what surely would have been another tragic tale.
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