The Giveaway by Steve Rasnic Tem

"If you don't cut that out something real bad's gonna happen to you!"

Six-year-old Marsha dropped the second handful of mud she was about to smear on seven-year-old Alice Kennedy's party dress. "Like what?"

Alice made a thinking face for a little while. "Well . . . I might tell your daddy about it and he just might give you away!"

"Uh-uh," Marsha grunted. She proceeded to gather another handful of mud. Some of it spattered onto her shoes and she had to twist each foot just so to wipe them in the grass. It was hard to do that and still hold onto the slippery mud. Then she walked carefully over to where Alice was sitting making mud pies and raised both hands.

"Stop it, Marsha! I told you what I'd do! I'll tell and he'll just give you away!"

Marsha didn't understand why Alice didn't want her to smear mud on the dress anyway; it was nice and cool and besides, Alice's dress was already muddy from making mud pies all afternoon. But she was even more confused about this giveaway stuff. She'd never heard of that before.

"What do you mean, give me away?"

"I'll tell him you've been real bad to me, Marsha, and he'll give you away to some other family, or even worse!"

Marsha just looked at her in confusion. "Moms and dads don't give their kids away," she said seriously.

Alice looked up from her mud pie and smiled. "That's what your daddy did with your brother Billy."

"That's not true, Alice Kennedy; Billy died and went to heaven!"

"How do you know? Did you see him go?"

"Well, no. But Daddy told me he did."

"They have to say that, stupid! They don't want you crying and making trouble."

"Don't call me stupid!" Marsha watched her shoes squishing into the mud. "Why did they give Billy away?" she asked softly.

"I heard your daddy tell my daddy that Billy was too small and that he'd never be very big, ever. He sounded real sad about that. So I guess he just gave him away so he can get a bigger boy later on."

Marsha nodded her head solemnly.

"Know who else got given away?"

"Who?"

"Johnny Parker."

"I 'member him! He was like a grownup 'cept he had something funny wrong with his head made him want to play with kids all the time. But he went to a special school! My aunt said so and she's a teacher!"

"Well, he was gonna go to one of them schools, but they gave him away instead. Know who else?"

"Uh-uh."

"Shelly Cox. She kept breaking things and being mad and real mean and one night her daddy had them take her away."

"Who's them?"

Alice looked back over her shoulder at the backyard of her house. "I don't know for sure. Guess who else?"

"Who?"

"You, Marsha, 'cause you got my party dress all muddy and my daddy's probably gonna want to give me away so I'm gonna have to tell on you."

"Tattletale!" Marsha cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Crybaby!" Alice yelled, running toward her house.

Marsha threw a handful of mud after Alice in frustration. "Uh-uh," she grunted as she began the long walk home.

There were loud voices coming from the kitchen when Marsha got home. She could hear her mother crying, her father shouting. He sounded real mad. Marsha hated it when they had a fight. She sat down in a chair in the living room, picked up one of her books, and pretended to read. But she could only pretend because they were too loud.

"Can't you do anything so simple as enter a check properly, Jennie? I bet Marsha could do that and she's only six years old!"

"I'm sorry, Ted. I just forgot! Will you leave me alone!"

"If I let you alone we'd be broke within the month! Last week you took out the grocery money twice and caused six checks to bounce! And you say you don't know what happened to the money! You're driving me crazy, Jennie! I can't take it! I tell you I can't take it anymore!"

"I've tried to be a good wife to you . . ." Her mom started to cry and cough, and Marsha couldn't tell what she said anymore. She wanted to go in and see her mom, but she was too afraid. Her daddy was shouting louder than ever now.

"You haven't been a wife to me, Jennie, since Billy's been gone!"

Her mom was crying louder than before. Marsha could hardly understand her. "The doctor says . . . you know the doctor said I can't have any more!"

"You're lying, Jennie; you're lying through your teeth. I know that quack's nurse! You've been lying to me, lying all the time. You just don't want to, Jennie. You just don't want to!"

Marsha went upstairs until dinner. She thought her daddy noticed the dried mud on her shoes when she got up from the table, but he didn't say anything.

Marsha woke up with it still dark outside. Something told her she should go to the window. She was afraid, because it was real dark out there, but she thought she should probably go. She tiptoed as softly as she could, afraid she might wake up her dad.

A funny-looking car was parked out in front of the house. It was long and black, the longest and blackest car she had ever seen. And there was a long silver thing, jagged like lightning, that went from one end of the car to the other. This lightning was brighter than the streetlights and hurt her eyes.

The car windows were gray. They looked dirty. She couldn't see through them at all.

Marsha didn't want to see the big black car anymore, but she was more afraid not to see it. She didn't know why she was more afraid of not seeing it, but she was.

Marsha tiptoed down the stairs in her pajamas, scared to death that her father would catch her and maybe give her away like he had Billy. She went into the dark living room. The front door was wide open; she could see the long black car by standing in front of the open door.

She stepped carefully onto the front sidewalk and started walking to the car. She tried to be as quiet as a mouse like her aunt had told her once. She was scared of the car, but she had to keep walking toward it. She couldn't understand that at all.

When she got to the side of the car she held her hands up to her eyes and leaned against the window, trying to see what was inside. But it was too gray, too dirty, too dark. She started to walk around the front of the car and to the other side to look in the windows there, when the tall man stepped in front of her.

He was tall with black shadows all over him and he had a big white bow tie and a big white flower on his chest, but she couldn't see his coat, he was so black, so she didn't know how the flower stayed on.

The tall man bent over. He had no face, just a head full of white fog, like his face hadn't made itself yet.

Marsha began to cry in a soft voice, scared to death she'd wake up her daddy and he'd give her away for spoiling his sleep. But she couldn't help crying, and it kept getting louder and louder until she was sure he'd wake up and want to give her away. Her pajamas felt suddenly wet and warm and she knew she'd wet herself and he'd want to give her away for that too.

She turned around to run back into the house.

Two men with no faces were standing there, carrying a long thing between them. Marsha was so surprised she stopped crying.

For some reason she wasn't so afraid now, so she walked up to the long thing they were carrying to see what it was.

Her mommy was tied to the thing and she was looking up with her eyes all funny and her mouth open and oh she knew her mommy was dead oh dead dead dead!

She ran screaming into the house and they grabbed her and she was screaming and they put something into her mouth -

Only "they" was her daddy. He was sitting with her on the sofa now, looking all serious like when she'd done something real bad.

"You saw the car?"

She nodded her head tearfully.

"Your mommy went away in the car?"

"Ye-es," her voice broke and she cried a little.

"Okay, I want you to listen, Marsha." He held her chin up and made her look into his eyes. "Your mommy didn't do things right, Marsha; she wasn't good enough. So you know what happened?"

Marsha nodded her head solemnly.

"I had to give your mommy away. That's what happens to people who mess up, Marsha. You've got to do your best, do your best for me, all the time."

Again she nodded her head, but then her father was gone, as quickly as he had arrived, and she was all alone on the couch in the darkened living room. She looked out the window but there was nothing there. She knew everything was all over, then.

Marsha sleepily climbed off the sofa and stumbled around trying to find a light switch. She couldn't find one so she had to make her way to the kitchen in the dark. She would have cried then, but she really didn't feel like crying anymore.

The kitchen light switch was too high, so she had to work in the dark. It was hard to find the pans or the turner in the dark, but she finally did. At least the refrigerator light let her see the eggs, and she kept the door open afterward so she could see better.

She knew she'd better start her daddy's breakfast now if she was to get it finished on time. The stove and counters were real high for her, so it would take a long time for her to use them.

Daddy liked big breakfasts, and more than anything else in the whole wide world, she wanted to please her daddy.