The Town Whispers: Season 1

Chapter 9: The Last Birthday of Peggy LaPonte

The night Mildred had brought home her swaddled bundle, was the night a dark cloud fell over the home. You'd like the death of a father, and husband might have been the moment of no return, the moment when the LaPonte family was irredeemably damaged, or perhaps even before that when Mildred had been driven mad, and walked out into a nightmare bog to confront that which she really had no words for beyond God.

But no.

It was the night that Mildred had brought home her swaddled bundle, that the destiny of the LaPonte family reached an apex point from which it would never return.

Mark LaPonte was dead. He'd be dead for sometime in fact.

Without his meager income, Peggy, and Tom had begun to feel the sting of hunger more often. Tom was older and able to fend for himself, whether that meant stealing, or loitering near a friends kitchen while heavenly thick scents wafted through the air, Tom would be able to survive if things were truly dire. But he still felt the sting, when there was nothing for breakfast, or nothing for lunch, or those less than pleasant days where the threat of the cold and the rain, that seemingly fell unendingly outside, seemed like more of a hassle then the hunger did.

This was the pain of hunger, that a forest god of some past primordial age, locked in the husk of an oak tree, had promised Mildred her children would not feel.

And yet they did.

The two siblings had made an unspoken truce, to ration what was left in the home, and share the burden. It would have been easy for them to go and ask someone in The Fort proper for food, but that was embarrassing, and if there was one thing the LaPonte children inherited from their father, it was his unearned pride.

Either way, Peggy and her older brother Tom weren't too worried yet, there was still a fair amount of food in the pantry - dry foods, and preserved foods, as well as that nasty, disgusting jar of jerky that sat on the counter in the kitchen, that the two siblings had been nibbling at. They could eat well, and they could satiate that hunger, and numb that pain that screamed from the bottom of their gut.

But if they did, they knew they'd go hungry when it really mattered.

Being hungry while you're busy is easy Peggy came to find. As long as she was moving, she only remembered she hadn't eaten that day half the time. Really, it was as good of an excuse as Peggy could have to stay out of the home.

Even on the rainy days the excuse of being too hungry to sit still, for Peggy, more so then tom, was enough to get her outside.

She'd bundle up, layering her clothes strategically, trying to keep the most heat in, and the most rain out, without looking like a big fat bear.

And then she'd dash out into the rain.

It was the nights though, when there was nothing to do, when it was too cold to roam, and explore, that were hard for Peggy. When she didn't NEED to eat, but her stomach growled and groaned, spasming, and sending electricity up her torso.

This isn't to say they never ate, of course Tom and Peggy would share some boiled potatoes, or a can of preserved peaches when life in the home became too uncomfortable to bear, and when they felt they deserved it, but they ate them sparingly, and they didn't eat everyday, and on the days they ate, they didn't eat every meal.

And as terrible of a thing as being hungry is - it wasn't all bad, not for Peggy at least.

Tom lay in bed, he'd had another nightmare, and now the sound of his little brother wailing in the night kept him awake. Tom felt the burning itch in his skin, as frustration bubbled inside of him.