part twenty-four

…toby was 5, maybe 6, years old. he was a sweet, chubby little boy who liked to follow his grampa around on the farm, helping him feed the cows and move the hay in the barn. toby wore dark blue jeans tucked into his black rubber boots with the red ring around the top and a big bulky tan colored cable knit sweater to keep him warm. sometimes he wore a stocking cap but mostly he forgot it inside. the cold outside made his nose run alot so he often had that little kid, snot nose thing going on. he didn’t mind though ’cause he got to help grampa and be his little man. toby took care of the little girl so she wouldn’t have to spend time with grampa and she could stay warm inside. lots of times toby would find himself in the hay loft in the barn and not remember how he got there. the loft was big and quiet in that noisy, farm animal kind of way. there was lots of hay there and the wood on the floor was uneven and dusted with what he thought of as ‘hay dust’. it was a fun place to play when the other kids were there but when he was the only one, it wasn’t so fun anymore. if toby lay on his back in the loft, he could see the top of the barn sometimes. not always though. there were times he couldn’t see it no matter how hard he tried. when grampa closed the barn door, it got scary dark inside. noises seemed bigger in the dark. toby liked it best when the barn door was open. he wished the little girl would come into the barn with him but she was too afraid and he would never make her do it. grampa liked it when it was just him anyway because he was his bestest helper and knew just what to do without being told too much. the smell of a barn takes toby back to those days with his grampa. it’s not always a good thing.

to be continued

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4 responses to this post.

  1. Big hugs for Toby and for Traci. Courageous Toby and Traci.

    Reply

  2. Perhaps I saw the little girl in the clouds.
    That’s where the photos come from, you know.
    Maybe the clouds are all that is left.
    They are my Toby.
    They saved me from the psyche ward that was promised to me by my mother.
    Crying, neediness and fear were not allowed.
    Anger was not allowed.
    Only nothingness was permitted.

    {{{{{{{{Traci}}}}}}}}

    Reply

  3. Oh. Oh. Oh. 😥

    Reply

  4. Oh dear. Like this? I do not. Like you? I do. Very, very much.

    Reply

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