She sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, looking out at gravel,  tall grass, and sherbet sky.

All the folks in town knew her business.  Gossip.  Lies. Women telling stories.  It was all fictitious.  The only truth was that William had left town. Left her with four kids, a fallow farm, and an empty bank account. The stout woman had no idea where her next dime was coming from. Kids were growing. Empty bellies growled at night. Next year, she whispered.  Next year.

John often sat on the front porch, too.  There was a hatred for his father,  but down in his soul, he wanted to be like him. 

He had heard stories of his womanizing and drinking. The young boy saw what it was doing to his mother. But still, he had that roving eye and wandering spirit about him. And, the more he saw mom cry in silence, the more he wanted to be like him.

The boy had dreams of leaving but never could. Eddie was going to have a family of his own. Start fresh. Go off to college and find a girl. That seemed to be his major. 

Selfishly, he had plans to leave John on the farm. After all, the youngest never spoke of his dreams. As far as everyone knew, he would stay and take care of mom. It was expected. 

As for the daughters, Eddie figured they’d be married with kids  by the time they were twenty-one. One did. The other had different plans.