Mums

This piece was inspired by the word “crispy”, provided by Sarah Little, of Chicago, IL.

“Bennie, I’m going to toss this out if you don’t come eat it right now.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Bennie rushed inside, and was about to grab his spoon, when he remembered that his hands were caked in mud. He detoured to the kitchen sink.

“Those cornflakes have to be completely soggy by now.”

“I like them soggy, Mom.”

“I can’t believe my son, the fruit of my womb, prefers soggy cornflakes.”

“Maybe I’m adopted.”

“You’re not adopted. Trust me, I was there.”

Bennie plopped down at the table, hands still wet, and began slurping his cornflakes. His mother, Hannah, looked across the table at him. How was he nine years old? When did that happen?

“So what’s the big project out there?” she asked.

“Digging up worms.”

“Digging up worms. Fun. What are you going to do with them?

“I don’t know. I found something else though.”

Hannah followed Bennie through the screen door, coffee cup in hand. It was still early, and chilly. The leaves crunched under her feet. Bennie grabbed up a yellow plastic bucket, and thrust it up at Hannah’s face.

“Wow, worrrrms”, said Hannah.

“I caught thirty-seven if you count the little ones.”

“I see. How about you show me the other thing?”

“Okay.”

Bennie ran to the back of the yard, and behind the shed. Hannah paused a moment, suddenly remembering what was buried back there.

“Oh shit.”

She carefully placed her coffee cup down in the grass, and walked toward the shed.

On the other side, Bennie was triumphantly holding something filthy above his head.

“Bones!” he declared.

It was a dog skull. Hannah knew this immediately, not because she was an expert in canine skeletons, but because her husband had buried it there, along with the rest of the dog, five years ago.

“Bennie, put that down, it has germs all over it!”

Bennie unceremoniously tossed the skull back into the hole. “ I think it’s a dinosaur! I think it’s a velociraptor!”

It was a golden retriever. Her name had been Chrysanthemum, or “Mums” for short. She had been a sweet dog, and Bennie’s best friend. Hannah and Bennie’s father had put her down when Bennie was about four and a half. They’d told him that Mums had left to go live on a beautiful farm. Rabbits to chase, and flowers to frolic in — the whole nine yards. So far, Bennie had never questioned that story.

“I don’t think it’s old enough to be a dinosaur, kiddo. Why don’t you leave it alone for now. You have to get ready for your soccer game.”

Benny, looked supremely disappointed. “Mom, I want to dig it all up! I wanna call the science museum!”

“Well…look, Bennie, let’s wait until your dad gets home before we do anything. Let’s get you in your shin pads.” Bennie just stared into the hole. Hannah walked up to it, and looked in. There were a few other bones sticking out.

A wave of disgust swept over her. Then sadness. She missed her dog. But more than that, she would have to teach her son about death today, and about how sometimes parents lie.