Charlie! Shouted Martha, as she watched her son run towards the hills. Frightened, not by the sound of gunshots, but, knowing what it's like to lose a family member. She chased after him, screaming and yelling, but little Charlie kept on running. The harsh memories of the last time Martha held Bobby, Charlie's father, in her hands had her shaking in fear, thinking the most savage thing might happen to poor little Charlie who she "thought" couldn't handle himself well, due to his age. Charlie was about 7 at the time.
"Mother! Mother!"Charlie began to shout as he ran back towards his mother, who was so tired and breathing heavily, sitting on a tree stump. She saw him coming out of the distance, something in his hands. "What the ...?!" She thought. Staring steadily as if she was trying to turn her eyes into a binocular, wondering what Charlie had found. "It's a duck, Mother!" He shouted with a proud smile as he held carefully a mid-sized duck with a shotgun pebble stuck in its right wing making it unable to fly.
"Dad said one day I will be the man of the house mother! So this is our dinner... I really miss him!" He said softly with tears in his eyes. Martha, herself holding back tears, held poor little Charlie and said, "he would be proud of you honey, I'm quite certain." Charlie nodded as if in agreement and wiped his tears. Martha took the duck and they both headed home to start dinner.