Leaves of Fall

There once was a young boy. He was a good young boy, and everyone expected he would grow to be a good man some day. He was a good boy, but his family was poor.

Every fall as a young boy he would take his father's rake, and pile the maple leaves in his family's yard into large piles for composting into the family garden. When he finished with his family's yard, he would walk through the small town with his rake, knocking on doors, and offering to rake their leaves. This was the fall in which he started to become a man.

Often he would be told no, but he knew where all of the older people lived, who found raking leaves to be a difficult job. He also knew where the widows lived. One of those widows was Julie Boddabing, with her two daughters Sue and Sammie.

The young boy had seen Sue at school, but Sammie was older and her didn't see her very often. Sue was a pretty girl, but always with a sad look on her face. She seemed to be hiding a Horrible Secret that she was scared to share with anyone.

The boy walked the street, first stopping at Mr. & Mrs. Pinkles house, who were both very old and their children lived far away. He mowed their grass all summer, and knew they would want him to rake their leaves.

He stopped at the house of the widow who lived next door, who wasn't so old, but was always nice to the young boy, and sometimes gave him lemondade when he was out mowing the Pinkles' lawn. She couldn't afford to pay him money, but she had a fresh baked batch of cookies, so he agreed to rake her lawn for a dozen cookies.

He went around the corner, to the grand old Victorian home of Mrs. Swan. He mowed Mrs. Swan's lawn sometimes, but not regularly. There were already two other boys raking her leaves.

Down the street, he stopped at Mrs. Oak's house. Mrs. Oak was a widow, with two daughters who were both widows and five granddaughters, who all lived on the same block. Mrs. Oak paid him to rake all three lawns.

The day was starting to grow dim, but across the street was Miss Boddabing's house, with its oak tree and maple tree shedding their leaves on her lawn, burying it in a smothering blanket. He had given several strangers directions to Miss Boddabing's house that summer, and a few this fall. The young boy knew that you can't leave oak leaves on a lawn or the grass would die.

He knocked once. He could hear voices inside. He knocked again. There was a small bell hung by the door, and he pulled the cord, a small clang announcing he was there.

Sammie Boddabing came to the door, dressed in something that made the young boy feel strange tinglings. "Yes, you can rake our leaves, but we have no money. I will have Sue come out when you're almost done."

The young boy started raking leaves toward the back of the house toward the alley. The first pile of leaves was nearly as high as his chest. He went back, and started again on the other side of the house. He saw Sue watching him from the second floor window as he got close to finishing.

He heard the back porch screen door bang shut as he was putting the two large piles together into one huge pile suitable for burning. He turned around, and Sue was walking down the four steps to the small, cracked, sidewalk that led back to the alley.

Sue took his hand and pulled him close to her. He hadn't been this close to a girl before, not since the changes had started to come upon him. She pointed to the pile of leaves, and tugged him to it. She dived in, only her feet showing. He heard her voice say come in here with me, and the young boy did.

Her face was hidden by the gloom, but he could still see the sad lines around her eyes. She told him Sammie told her to take care of him for raking the leaves, and she touched the boy in a way he had never been touched before.

"No Sue, this is my gift to you. Have a nice Thanksgiving. Please don't do this to anyone else until we're older."

Julie and Sammie Boddabings moved that winter, just before Christmas. Sue had gone to live with her grandparents somewhere far away just after Thanksgiving. The young boy never heard from Sue again, but he hoped the rest of his life that his gift had helped her.