The Lost Sheep - Short Story

Behind the apartment building, where Abigail Winthrop-Beck has lived all her life, there is a small dark cobblestone alleyway. When she was a young girl, she would watch some teenagers necking under the cover of darkness and it would make her toes and tummy tingle uncomfortably. The building has a rusted staircase in back, leading up to the 4th floor. That's where the landlord has an office.

Abigail lives on the 5th floor now, though she raised her family on the 3rd. From her kitchen window, where she sits for hours each day, she can look down and see the lives of the people in her neighborhood unfolding. In the 40 years she has lived here, Abigail has seen so many people come and go. She has seen changes in the neighborhood. She has seen marriages end and lives begin anew. She has seen heartache and happiness. She has gained and lost so much. She has seen weddings, births and baptisms, lots of baptisms.

Most of the folks in Abigail's neighborhood are Catholic. She is one herself, though she hasn't seen the inside of St. Francis's Parish in over five years. That's what happens with religion sometimes. You just stop attending services one day...no real reason...and then you forget and then it is five years later. Abigail wouldn't even consider going back now. She'd be too ashamed to see Father Russell and Deacon Frank. They probably thought she was long gone from the neighborhood, though she hoped if they did think that was the case, they'd have at least asked around about her. That wasn't the case, though. She stopped going and they never came around. Of course, they were probably up to their eyeballs in new parishioners now. What with all the new, larger families moving into all the surrounding buildings. Plus, there were all those baptisms to perform and whatnot. Babies were always around this street.

Abigail stood up and went to the fridge for a cold drink. She looked around and decided to have some lemonade that she just made this morning. She took a glass from the narrow cabinet above the stove and poured herself a nice, icy glass of the drink. She put her glass down on the old Formica table. She picked up her wooden spoon and stirred the steaming and boiling pots making sure her sauce and meats wouldn't burn and stick. Mmm! Everything smelled so good! Dinner was going to be a hit. All her mother's old recipes revisited today.

Returning now to her post by the window, her icy cold lemonade in hand, she looks down again and sees the Martinez boys racing up the block in between the parked cars to catch up to Mister Softee. She laughs. Those two cute little boys sure do give their mother Arquimedis a run for her money. Arquimedis is pregnant with her third. Another baptism is on the horizon.

Abigail strains her neck further out to see the shape of the ice cream truck that has been coming around her street for years. His familiar tune is playing and the children are running, or peddling on their bikes toward the Treat Master. She smiles, remembering her own races to the ice cream truck and how summertime seemed just like the best time of all!

Her life now was on a new page. It was different and still changing. There was hope in her, one that had been absent for a while. Yet, despite all the changes about to take place, she still called 345 Forrest Avenue home. But maybe one day even that might change! She wouldn't mind too much. This old five-story walk-up is rundown and crime-ridden now. The changes were subtle at first. Then, around the mid-1980s, it was as if someone put skates on at the peak of a hill and let go. Before she knew it, some of the buildings were turned into housing for the poor, which she laughed at since her family had never been wealthy and they lived in the building all their lives. The public and private schools in the area started having issues with crime, unruly children and parents who didn't do their share of disciplining them.

When her parents got married and lived there, the people on Forrest Avenue were all hardworking small families looking to move up in the world. Most were immigrants, though her own parents were 2nd generation already. Shortly after Milton and Judy Winthrop married, Abigail was born. A year later, her sister Cara arrived and then four years after that George had come. Both girls went to St. Francis's Catholic School for Girls. George went to Bishop O'Donnell Preparatory School for Boys. Milton often worked two and three jobs throughout their schooling just to keep up with the payments. Judy took in some sewing work to help out, but she was mostly at home. All three kids graduated from high school, which was a great thing for a family like theirs.

At first, Cara was a beauty and their pride and joy. As she grew, she was still beautiful, but also a sinfully captivating flirt. She was a constant headache for Milton and Judy, who were always after her to avoid a bad reputation and embarrass the whole family. She had the eyes of all the boys on Forrest Avenue, all except for Timothy. Cara teased and dated Allan and Frankie, Mike and Tony, Hank and Fausto, to name a few. For a short while, she dated adorable, blonde and freckled Billy Hurst, the son of the hardware store owner. But his mother hated Cara and soon put a stop to that. Billy was forced to ignore Cara whenever he saw her, but even Abigail could see it pained the boy to see Cara with other boys.

But Cara didn't even care about Billy or his feelings. What annoyed Cara to no end was that her beauty and charms were no match for Timothy. He was a shy boy who was unaware of his good looks. Cara would swoon at night to Abigail about his deep, dark hazel eyes and his dark, curly hair and his pinkish, smooth lips. Abigail would try to study through Cara's school-girl crush stories. Cara would complain to Abigail, while she studied, that something must really be wrong with Timothy if he could resist her.

Rolling her eyes, Abigail responded one day. "Not every boy is going to fall for you, Cara. My goodness! You are so incredibly self-centered. Besides, Timothy is two years older than you are. Maybe his problem is that he doesn't like snotty little girls like you!" Cara was never one to give up having the last word and tried to hurt her sister with her response. "Well, maybe if any of the boys ever gave you a second glance, you wouldn't be as bitter as you sound Abigail!" That set the tone for the kind of off-kilter relationship the sisters had from that day forward.

Still Cara tried and tried to win over Timothy. She would send him notes with other boys in his school. He would never respond. She bought him a chocolate bar once, with her allowance money, only to see him give it to his little brother unopened. Some days, as he walked home from school, a book in his hand and his face in the book, she would hop off a parked car she was on, still in her school uniform and shake her hips as she walked in front of him to ask him something ridiculous, like the time or comment about the weather. One day she blocked his way home, sucking on a red lollipop and asked him point blank, "Are you into boys, or something? How come you don't like me?" Usually, he would answer whatever it was, politely and keep on walking. That day, his face got red as blood and he stepped to the side and raced home. As he raced home, he recoiled at the vulgar nature of her statement and vowed never to speak to her again.


At St. Francis's, Abigail was the nun's favorite of all the students. She was studious and smart, though never the picture of beauty. Her brown hair lacked shine or bounce, like Cara's and she didn't have a clue how to apply make-up, when the time came. She was thin and without curves and her breasts weren't as big as Cara's. When she wasn't in the secure comfort of her school uniform, she preferred long, checkered skirts and button-down tailored shirts that were big enough to be her father's. Meanwhile, her little sister was shaped like a figure 8 and wore every bit of clothing like someone poured it onto her body. She looked like "a painted up showgirl," her mother had said once. And though Mrs. Winthrop didn't mean it as a compliment, Abigail was terribly jealous of the comment.

Though Abigail was shy and simple, she was very well liked at school. She had lots of girlfriends, but as they started to grow up and become interested in boys, their time together shortened. Each girl making one excuse, or another so they could secretly meet their boyfriends and Abigail usually left to cover up their deeds.

Right before graduation, as all of the girls in her class giggled about the prom, and their dresses and the boys from Bishop O'Donnell's school with whom they would dance, Abigail felt terribly uncomfortable and alone. She hardly knew any of the boys, except from her sister's escapades behind their building, or the ones dating her friends. Besides, she'd die before she got up the nerve to ask any of them to a dance.

When her mother casually asked her if she wanted to go down to Samuel's Department Store to buy a dress, Cara responded for her. "She doesn't need a dress, Mom. She doesn't even have a date. She is the school nerd and everyone knows it." Abigail gave her sister the evil eye. Their mother looked at her eldest with such painful sadness, Abigail had to look away. She knew Cara was evil, but right then she wanted to stomp on her head!

Abigail went to school the next morning convincing herself that the silly dance was beneath her and that she was better off not going. But during science class that day, Abigail looked out of her classroom window down onto the street and blinked several times to adjust her vision. Down below, in a burgundy tie, white collar shirt and grey slacks, was Timothy, blocking his eyes from the sun looking right up and waving a small, red wilted rose at her. Her heart raced and she went completely deaf, seeing only the nun's lips moving as she pointed the long, wood stick onto the blackboard. The blur of the next 20 minutes for Abigail were insufferable. The minute her science class was over, the girl raced down the staircase, carefully holding her skirt down and nearly leapt out onto the street through the school's two front doors. It was lunchtime and she usually went home for lunch, so it wasn't like any of the nuns would miss her.

When she got to Timothy, she still couldn't believe her eyes weren't deceiving her. She tried to appear calm, but the rise and fall of her chest was obvious from trying to catch her breath. "Hi!" She said to him a bit too eagerly. "Hi," he responded, his nerves evident in the shaking of his lower lip. "You're Timothy Beck, right?" He smiled widely and the crinkles by his eyes looked so cute to Abigail, she almost reached out to touch them. "Oh, um..this is for you," he said, handing her the poor lilting flower. "It is!? I mean, thank you. Thanks, Timothy. What's it for?" He looked confused for a second, then he cleared his throat and spoke. "Well, I was wondering if you would do me the honor and be my date for the prom next week?"

Abigail tried to stay up, but she felt the nausea build and the bile rise in her. She was going to pass out, she thought. This was it. She would go down like a house of cards. Don'tfalldown!Don'tfalldown!Don'tfalldown!Don'tfalldown! She was steadying herself, repeating this in her head. She leaned on the iron post holding up the No Parking sign on the street in front of her school. She tried to conjure up some of the charm and chutzpah Cara had, but it was all lost on her. Besides, she'd look like an idiot trying to pull off a sexy pose! She couldn't be cool in front of this boy now, even if she was sitting on a block of ice. Oh well, she thought. I'll do my best.

"Yes, Timothy! I would love to go to prom with you. Thank you!" The boy seemed as relieved as she did and a bit shocked at how genuinely grateful she seemed to be asked. The funky, awkward pair stayed there for a minute longer, then he offered to walk her to her house.

Needless to say, when Cara found out about Abigail's prom date, she was livid! She wanted Timothy for herself! She said so to Abigail, to George and to her parents at the dinner table. Shy, this girl was not. She ranted about how long she had tried to win him over, until Milton Winthrop put a stop to all of it. In the bellowing voice he saved for special occasion such as this one, he said to Cara. "Now you listen here, Cara Marie! Your sister is going to her prom with this young man. He asked her, not you!" The sting of his words made Cara flinch in her seat, but he wasn't done yet. "You have no right to ruin this for her. She never says a thing to you about the many boys you traipse through here under her nose! Perhaps this young man asked her because he is looking for something more serious, not the romps in the hay I hear about you!" Judy Winthrop put a hand to her mouth and tears came to her eyes as her husband continued. "Yes, don't think your mother and I don't know what those boys say about you?! The whole of Forrest Avenue talks about you! Well, we all know! Now you march to your room and wait for your punishment, young lady! Now GO!!!"

Everyone was frozen around their dinner table. Cara's tears were already streaming down her ruddy cheeks. Abigail's heart was beating fast. George, as usual, just kept on eating. Cara stood up, scarping the chair's legs on the hardwood floor. Without a word, she walked back down the hallway to the room she shared with her brother and sister. She went in and shut the door. She was grounded for weeks and swore never to forgive her sister.

The prom arrived quickly. Abigail and her mother had had a whirlwind of a week rushing to Samuel's for a dress and to the Bargain Bucket for heels and gloves. Judy Winthrop helped her clumsy daughter apply some rouge and lip gloss and had done up her hair and sprayed it until it was rock solid. When Milton passed by the room where Abigail and her mother were getting ready, he stopped. His smile widened as he saw his eldest girl all made up like a lady. "Well, now, Abby. You sure are sight. You look very pretty, honey! Just like your mom on our prom night!" Abigail smiled at her dad and tried to keep from crying. "Thanks, Daddy!"

When all was said and done, the doorbell rang. Milton opened the door and there stood Timothy Beck, shaking in his penny loafers. He had on a tweed jacket that was a little too big. It probably belonged to one of his older brothers. The Beck family had five boys all together. Timothy had an orchid in a clear holder and held it out to Mr. Winthrop. "Hold on there, son. I think that's for my daughter. Come on in." The young man inched in to just inside the threshold and waited. He was handsome and well groomed for the dance. When Judy passed by, she was pleased. "Hello, Timothy. I'm Judy, Abigail's mother. You look so handsome. Timothy felt the burning rush of embarrassment cover his whole body. Then, he looked up the hallway and there, walking uncomfortably in a beautiful mint-colored dress and a pair of light beige heels, was Abigail. Her small, dainty hands had on white gloves and a tiny satin purse swung back and forth from her wrist. Her hair was done up and she had on make-up. She was beautiful!

Timothy sucked in a breath and realized he'd made a slurping sound out loud. Judy and Milton looked away, as if they didn't hear him. He looked embarrassed enough! It was a joy to watch the pair of awkward kids make small talk. Timothy pinned the orchid to her dress. Then they took a couple of pictures with Milton's old Instamatic before the kids left for the dance.

As they walked out of the building on Forrest Avenue that evening to their prom, Judy and Milton hanging out of the window seeing them off, something told Abigail this wasn't a casual kind of date. Upstairs, she knew Cara was looking out of their bedroom window bitterly, but she didn't care. Three years after that night, she became Mrs. Abigail Winthrop-Beck.

All these years later, as she sits by the window, Timothy's soft snoring in the other room, she smiles. Her parents spent all their married days here raising all three kids and watching the grandchildren pour in, until they passed on. After she married, she and Timothy moved into an apartment below and had their kids, Marty and Tara. When their kids grew up and went away to college, they gave up their three-bedroom and took her parents' empty apartment, since it was smaller. When her brother George had graduated high school, he went on to join the military and then he married a girl from Georgia and settled there.

And Cara...Cara had it the toughest. After Abigail's prom that year, she became even harder to control. She dated guys for the sake of dating, even though she knew some just wanted to feel her up and others just wanted to claim they did. The guys she brought home got rougher and rougher looking. One guy, who claimed his given name was Oak Tree, showed up to the Forrest Avenue home of the Winthrops drunk and high. Then he fell asleep on the sofa and had to be escorted out by Milton and George. At one point, Milton just refused to meet anymore of them and Cara was told to keep her sloppy business elsewhere.

By 16 Cara was pregnant and she wouldn't tell anyone who the father was. Milton and Judy sent her to stay with her aunt upstate, until she gave birth. Then she gave up the baby for adoption. It was a girl. She came back home and dropped out of school officially. By the end of that year, she was drinking and smoking. She lost one job after another, until Milton and Judy stopped giving her money. She moved back upstate with her aunt for a while, until the aunt got wind of her stealing and drinking and threw her out on her tail.

When Timothy and Abigail got married, Cara was back on Forrest Avenue with Judy and Milton, who wouldn't speak to her. Abigail asked Cara to be her maid of honor, but Cara refused. She missed the ceremony at the church, then she showed up drunk to the wedding reception. She almost ruined that, but her father escorted her home and locked her in their room. She lost touch with the family right after the wedding, though she would slip in and out at times to visit or ask for money. She wasn't at father's funeral, but she managed to sober up for her mother's. Each time Abigail or George tried to talk sense to her, she would walk away angry. Some people in the neighborhood claimed she had another two kids out of wedlock and was on government assistance somewhere, though no one knew for sure.

But over the course of the last 11 months Abigail had finally managed to keep a promise she had made to her dying father. She had peacefully reconnected with her sister via letters and telephone calls. Through their calls and writings they had discussed all of the difficult growing-up years, all of their fighting and anger and all of their past mistakes - Cara more so than anyone. It had all come down to today. Things were going to change. Abigail was certain enough from the calls they had shared that Cara had sobered up. She was certain there were children she had yet to meet. There was still a bit of understandable distrust and fear. She was certain her sister was still alone, though there was a casual mention of a brief marriage to a creep who beat her.

Cara didn't know, but George is to be a surprise too. When they were kids, she always got along with him and, since his move to Georgia, she has not seen him much. Abigail knew his being there would mean a lot to her. George and Stacey were in the other bedroom watching television. They had arrived last night and were just waiting. It was just the two of them, their kids too grown now to hang out with mom and dad. Still, Abigail thought, there would be plenty of times, going forward, for family gatherings on a greater scale. At least she hoped there would be...

Her thoughts were elsewhere when she saw her. It was hard to make out her face, but it was definitely Cara just walking jauntily up Forrest Avenue like she had so many times before. On each side of Cara was a kid, a teenager, really. One girl and a boy. They looked to be about 14 and 15 and Abigail wondered if they were Cara's own children, since she knew there had to be other, much older ones - or so she had heard. Still, she didn't care. Her sister was home! She just realized now how much she loved and missed her and suddenly she could not sit still.

Abigail felt buzzed, - like a little out of her mind. Was she prepared to let Cara back into all of their lives? Was Cara prepared to be a part of it? Abigail began to inch up in her seat trying to stretch out an arm to wave, but it was Cara who spotted her first. She looked up, almost as if she expected to see her sister hanging out of the fifth story window looking down. Almost as if all of this had already happened in some long-forgotten dress rehearsal. Cara looked older, much older than even Abigail. Her skin was blotchy and her eyes were small and wrinkled. Her hair wasn't the shiny brown it had once been, but a brassy, discolored, frizzy dirty blonde mess of too much processing. Her hips were wide and her clothing a bit frumpy, but it was still her!

Abigail brought a hand to her heart. This was all so much to handle at once and the tears rushed to her eyes and crested there and she laughed. She laughed because there was fear and joy crowding for attention in her and all she could do was laugh. She decided that she couldn't wait a second longer to acknowledge this long lost sister who made so many mistakes but who, like anyone who has ever had a place to call home, just wants to return to her loved ones.

Abigail yelled down, as her parents had done to her and her siblings so many times in their childhood. She yelled as she had done so often when she and Timothy were courting and when her own kids were growing up. The building on Forrest Avenue had withstood all their yelling and their fighting and their joys and their sadness over all these many years and now this.

Abigail yelled because to try to contain her excitement any longer was to risk bursting at the seams from the attempt. She yelled. "Cara! Welcome home!"