My parents were only together for a short time after I was born before they split up. Soon my dad found another woman; she became like a second mother to me and gave me a little brother. Cade and I are four years apart, growing up I only saw him and my dad on the weekends, holidays and vacations. I’m not sure, maybe because I didn’t have to live with Cade all the time and share my things with him 24/7 that we were closer than most siblings I knew. At the end of the weekend when it was time to go back to my mom’s house it was back to me to entertain myself since I was an only child with her. I liked having someone to play with, even if it was my brother. Of course there was a little sibling rivalry, I was a spoiled little girl and got away with most things and little boys can get on a girls nerve sometimes, we threw rocks and punches, but at the end of the day we really relied on one another, for entertainment, understanding, for friendship. I would do anything for him and I know he would for me too.
Cade has never liked his vegetables. My dad has always been concerned with eating healthy and organic. Even I, liking most fruits and vegetables, was a little sickened when it came to some of his concoctions. Chic peas, brown rice, baked beans, and spinach just to name a few of the things I remember hating. But Cade, well he disliked everything, he wouldn’t touch a vegetable no matter what it was. Many times he’s been left at the dinner table picking at his food, going to bed hungry only to raid the cupboards for snacks after everyone’s sleeping, not getting dessert or just finding some new and inventive way to dispose of unappetizing chow.
On this particular evening we had all sat down at the table, nervously waiting the unearthing of tonight’s dinner. Sweet smells were drifting through the kitchen, settling in the dining room where they were being heavily scrutinized by Cade and I. “It smells good, maybe its steak and potatoes.” Cade says hopefully, looking to me for agreement. “Smells are deceiving, but yeah I hope it is steak, something good for a change.” “I bet its liver or maybe a sickly soup filled with all sorts of foul things.” “Oh don’t be so dramatic, here it comes anyways.” Dad, being a man of few words, “Eat it while it’s hot,” insensitively depositing the large blue plates, overflowing with tonight’s nightmare cooking, in front of us. Brown rice covers the plate topped with cooked broccoli, peppers, zucchini, squash, caramelized onions, corn, pea pods, carrots, and chicken. It’s a stir-fry. To me, this wasn’t so bad, besides the brown rice that I hate. Cade on the other hand is eyeing the vegetables with a sick expression on his face, “Uggghh,” sighing displeasingly as he slowly begins to stab his food as if it were diseased. Since I like most of the things on my plate I try to get as much rice in every bite filled with the vegetables and chicken that I can stomach. Cade just picks out the chicken to find nourishment. Dad is eyeing us across the table, especially Cade. We are the last ones to finish, as usual, I still have a pile of rice left and Cade expectantly hasn’t touched his vegetables or his rice. “We could feed it to the dogs,” I suggest, doubting the whole possibility that Mya and Zeus would find this tasty, well maybe Mya because she eats anything. “No, I have a better idea, wait until he leaves,” Cade whispers, his face is filled with that monkey business look on his which tells me something is up. “I’ll be outside doing wood,” Dad calls out, “finish your dinner and no fooling around.” “OK so what’s your plan genius,” I say apprehensively.
“Oh you’ll see,” a very sly smile gracing his face. He gets up from the table and walks towards the sliding glass doors. I am suspecting that he’s just going to fling the food outside but surely he doesn’t think this is going to work, Dad will see him for certain. But no, near the edge of the doors the floor is sunken in on one side and apparently there is a small hole that Cade has covered with another small piece of wood to keep this hole hidden. Cade removes the piece of wood and begins to scrape his plate down into the hole. I am sitting in my chair watching all this and I can’t even believe it, “Gross! How long have you been doing this?” “I don’t know a couple, of weeks; it’s a great spot huh?” He says this as if nothing he is doing is out of the ordinary or amiss. I don’t say anything, for a little bit, and yeah I admit I was contemplating actually using this hidden garbage disposal that Cade has found in our floor. But no, I know better, this is definitely the wrong thing to be doing. I cautiously walk over to the doors and peer down into the hole, it is absolutely disgusting. Two weeks of old lunches and dinners that are going sour, molding, bugs are beginning to crawl over the waste and the stench is beginning to turn my stomach. I cannot believe no one has noticed the smell. I sit back in the chair and exclaim, “Cade, this is disgusting, I know Dad makes some pretty rank things sometimes but you need to stop doing this, were going to have rats and bugs all over the place. You need to stop.” “No, no, it’s fine,” He picks up my plate to scrape down into the hole when all hell breaks loose. My stepmother comes in the front door, without us hearing, she turns the corner into the dining room and catches Cade red handed, disposing of the remains of my dinner into “the hole.” (As it will forever be know) She absolutely freaked. Actually at first I don’t think she knew what was going on, “Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” Cade looked like a deer in headlights, he froze mid scraping. He knew at that moment he was screwed and his hole was on the verge of being discovered. I on the other hand stepped back a little, trying to distance myself from the explosion that was about to occur. Cade stands in front of the hole, trying to hide it, I guess when my stepmother pushes him aside, peering in at the decaying food. I thought she was going to faint, that or wring Cade’s neck. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS! THAT IS DISGUSTING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? GO GET YOUR FATHER, RIGHT NOW! THAT IS WHAT I'VE BEEN SMELLING! I know Cade was afraid, hell, I was afraid for him too. It was by no means over, it had just begun. “I’m not getting him,” Cade says with a twinge of boldness in his voice and he plants himself in the chair. At least he didn’t run he knows there’s no avoiding it. “FINE!” and she storms off outside in search of the disciplinary figure. We sit and wait in silence, Cade thinking about the judgment that’s coming and I, not wanting to make this any harder on him than it already is by saying “I told you so.” Dad steps through the doorway with my stepmother quick on his heels. He examines the floor and looks at Cade, I’m thinking to myself this is where the yelling starts but I was wrong. It’s worst when Dad says nothing because you know he’s really angry or disappointed. He pulls the trash can across the floor towards the hole, “start cleaning it up,” Dad says, you can hear the irritation in his voice which can only mean this is just the beginning of Cade’s punishment. “What do you want me to get it out with?” “Use your hands.” “Wwhat? Are you serious?” “Does it look like I’m joking around Cade?” “Yes sir.” Cade gets down onto the floor, slowly and reluctantly reaches his hands down into the hole, you can see the look of revulsion on his face, he picks up a pile of his rotting dinners and dumps it into the trash. “Good, keep it up, I’m going to the store, finish this and when I get back I’ll think of something else.” As soon as Dad is out of sight Cade practically runs to get a ladle to continue scooping so he doesn’t have to use his hands. I don’t say anything, instead I keep a look out, and no I didn’t help him remove his nauseating rotten food from the hole. I would do anything for him but that was way too much for me, I draw the line when there is a possibility of vomiting.
Cade has never liked his vegetables. My dad has always been concerned with eating healthy and organic. Even I, liking most fruits and vegetables, was a little sickened when it came to some of his concoctions. Chic peas, brown rice, baked beans, and spinach just to name a few of the things I remember hating. But Cade, well he disliked everything, he wouldn’t touch a vegetable no matter what it was. Many times he’s been left at the dinner table picking at his food, going to bed hungry only to raid the cupboards for snacks after everyone’s sleeping, not getting dessert or just finding some new and inventive way to dispose of unappetizing chow.
On this particular evening we had all sat down at the table, nervously waiting the unearthing of tonight’s dinner. Sweet smells were drifting through the kitchen, settling in the dining room where they were being heavily scrutinized by Cade and I. “It smells good, maybe its steak and potatoes.” Cade says hopefully, looking to me for agreement. “Smells are deceiving, but yeah I hope it is steak, something good for a change.” “I bet its liver or maybe a sickly soup filled with all sorts of foul things.” “Oh don’t be so dramatic, here it comes anyways.” Dad, being a man of few words, “Eat it while it’s hot,” insensitively depositing the large blue plates, overflowing with tonight’s nightmare cooking, in front of us. Brown rice covers the plate topped with cooked broccoli, peppers, zucchini, squash, caramelized onions, corn, pea pods, carrots, and chicken. It’s a stir-fry. To me, this wasn’t so bad, besides the brown rice that I hate. Cade on the other hand is eyeing the vegetables with a sick expression on his face, “Uggghh,” sighing displeasingly as he slowly begins to stab his food as if it were diseased. Since I like most of the things on my plate I try to get as much rice in every bite filled with the vegetables and chicken that I can stomach. Cade just picks out the chicken to find nourishment. Dad is eyeing us across the table, especially Cade. We are the last ones to finish, as usual, I still have a pile of rice left and Cade expectantly hasn’t touched his vegetables or his rice. “We could feed it to the dogs,” I suggest, doubting the whole possibility that Mya and Zeus would find this tasty, well maybe Mya because she eats anything. “No, I have a better idea, wait until he leaves,” Cade whispers, his face is filled with that monkey business look on his which tells me something is up. “I’ll be outside doing wood,” Dad calls out, “finish your dinner and no fooling around.” “OK so what’s your plan genius,” I say apprehensively.
“Oh you’ll see,” a very sly smile gracing his face. He gets up from the table and walks towards the sliding glass doors. I am suspecting that he’s just going to fling the food outside but surely he doesn’t think this is going to work, Dad will see him for certain. But no, near the edge of the doors the floor is sunken in on one side and apparently there is a small hole that Cade has covered with another small piece of wood to keep this hole hidden. Cade removes the piece of wood and begins to scrape his plate down into the hole. I am sitting in my chair watching all this and I can’t even believe it, “Gross! How long have you been doing this?” “I don’t know a couple, of weeks; it’s a great spot huh?” He says this as if nothing he is doing is out of the ordinary or amiss. I don’t say anything, for a little bit, and yeah I admit I was contemplating actually using this hidden garbage disposal that Cade has found in our floor. But no, I know better, this is definitely the wrong thing to be doing. I cautiously walk over to the doors and peer down into the hole, it is absolutely disgusting. Two weeks of old lunches and dinners that are going sour, molding, bugs are beginning to crawl over the waste and the stench is beginning to turn my stomach. I cannot believe no one has noticed the smell. I sit back in the chair and exclaim, “Cade, this is disgusting, I know Dad makes some pretty rank things sometimes but you need to stop doing this, were going to have rats and bugs all over the place. You need to stop.” “No, no, it’s fine,” He picks up my plate to scrape down into the hole when all hell breaks loose. My stepmother comes in the front door, without us hearing, she turns the corner into the dining room and catches Cade red handed, disposing of the remains of my dinner into “the hole.” (As it will forever be know) She absolutely freaked. Actually at first I don’t think she knew what was going on, “Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” Cade looked like a deer in headlights, he froze mid scraping. He knew at that moment he was screwed and his hole was on the verge of being discovered. I on the other hand stepped back a little, trying to distance myself from the explosion that was about to occur. Cade stands in front of the hole, trying to hide it, I guess when my stepmother pushes him aside, peering in at the decaying food. I thought she was going to faint, that or wring Cade’s neck. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS! THAT IS DISGUSTING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? GO GET YOUR FATHER, RIGHT NOW! THAT IS WHAT I'VE BEEN SMELLING! I know Cade was afraid, hell, I was afraid for him too. It was by no means over, it had just begun. “I’m not getting him,” Cade says with a twinge of boldness in his voice and he plants himself in the chair. At least he didn’t run he knows there’s no avoiding it. “FINE!” and she storms off outside in search of the disciplinary figure. We sit and wait in silence, Cade thinking about the judgment that’s coming and I, not wanting to make this any harder on him than it already is by saying “I told you so.” Dad steps through the doorway with my stepmother quick on his heels. He examines the floor and looks at Cade, I’m thinking to myself this is where the yelling starts but I was wrong. It’s worst when Dad says nothing because you know he’s really angry or disappointed. He pulls the trash can across the floor towards the hole, “start cleaning it up,” Dad says, you can hear the irritation in his voice which can only mean this is just the beginning of Cade’s punishment. “What do you want me to get it out with?” “Use your hands.” “Wwhat? Are you serious?” “Does it look like I’m joking around Cade?” “Yes sir.” Cade gets down onto the floor, slowly and reluctantly reaches his hands down into the hole, you can see the look of revulsion on his face, he picks up a pile of his rotting dinners and dumps it into the trash. “Good, keep it up, I’m going to the store, finish this and when I get back I’ll think of something else.” As soon as Dad is out of sight Cade practically runs to get a ladle to continue scooping so he doesn’t have to use his hands. I don’t say anything, instead I keep a look out, and no I didn’t help him remove his nauseating rotten food from the hole. I would do anything for him but that was way too much for me, I draw the line when there is a possibility of vomiting.
These days Cade’s still a little hesitant about his vegetables, but he learned to like most things. And at least now he takes responsibility for himself, scrapping his leftovers, boldly, into either the compost or the trash. The dogs still get their “treats,” our refuse. My dad’s a lot less strict about our eating habits, I think he scared Cade so much that he ran stomach first into sweat treats rather than eating healthy, but he’s just now starting to realize, that type of food really makes you feel gross over time and you just don’t have enough energy. Anyways, we always have the memory of “The Hole” to think about and give us some laughs.
