Sewer Babies
By Goose
Note: I drew a picture of young Scott and Alex climbing a tree, and that gave me the
inspiration to write "Sewer Babies." The title comes from a conversation the two boys
have in the story. What Scott tells Alex is what my father once told my uncle.
Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me.
***
The two young boys stared up at the foreboding tree. The leaves were beginning to turn
shades of gold, and the autumn chill was in the air. Alex shivered.
Scott hugged his jacket closer to himself. "I told ya you should've brought a coat. Want
mine?" he offered. The fair-haired younger boy frowned.
"I'm not cold!" Alex protested, rubbing his arms and stamping his feet.
Scott smiled at his little brother. "Uh-huh," he mumbled as he pulled himself onto the
lower branches.
"Scott… Mama told us she didn't want us to climb that tree. She said we'd fall and get
hurt. We aren't supposed to climb this tree, Scott. Scott? Are you listening to me?"
"Mom's not here right now. And besides, I'm here. You'll be fine. Now come on!"
Scott urged.
Alex hugged himself tighter and shook his head, blonde hair flying up around his head
briefly like a halo. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna tell Mama."
Scott climbed higher and looked down at Alex. "You're such a baby!" he teased.
"I am not!"
"You are, too. A sewer baby."
"It's not true! Take it back!" Alex yelled.
"Make me," Scott taunted, scrambling higher still. Alex forgot his mother's warnings and
climbed after his brother. The chase continued until both youths had reach the highest
branch that would support their weight.
They enjoyed the view in companionable silence, before Alex remembered the reason for
the chase. "Take it back," he demanded again.
"Take what back?"
Alex fumed at his sibling's horrible short-term memory. "You called me a sewer baby."
"Oh. Yeah, I did," Scott admitted. "Well, you are."
"Liar," Alex declared, but in friendly tones. "What's that mean, anyway? Sewer baby."
Scott considered his next action for a few moments before turning to face his brother.
"I'm not supposed to tell you. Mom and Dad swore me to secrecy."
This had the desired effect as Alex's eyes widened in curiosity and anger at being left out
of secrets. "Please tell me," he begged.
"Well," began Scott. "I guess I can, 'cause you're my adopted brother, after all. See…
Pretty soon after you were born—in a sewer, remember—these bums found you and
turned over to the cops. The cops didn't know what to do with you, so they gave you to
the church. The preacher couldn't take care of you, because you stunk up the church you
smelled so much like the sewer. So, he stood on the corner and asked people if they'd
raise a stinky sewer baby. Mom was coming home from grocery shopping when the
preacher asked her to raise you. So she brought you home, cleaned you up, and swore me
and Dad to secrecy." Scott watched his brother's face as this information sunk in.
"That… That's not true!" Alex sputtered.
"Is so," Scott replied. "You just ask Mom. Ask her if you were adopted. She won't want
to hurt your feelings, so she'll say 'of course not, dear. Whatever gave you that idea?'
That's how you'll know."
Speaking of their mother… "Scott! Alex! Get down from that tree!" she yelled from the
ground. The startled boys almost fell, before regaining their balance and crawling down.
When they emerged from the top branches they saw their mother scowling at them.
"What if you had fallen out of there and cracked your skulls open? What would your
father and I do then, hm? Oh, honestly…"
Alex grasped his mother's hand, and looked up at her with large, worried eyes. "Mama...
Am I adopted?"
Caught of guard, their mother stammered the first thing that came to her. "Of course not,
dear. Whatever gave you that idea?"
Alex turned his wide-eyed gaze to his brother, who only smiled innocently in return.
By Goose
Note: I drew a picture of young Scott and Alex climbing a tree, and that gave me the
inspiration to write "Sewer Babies." The title comes from a conversation the two boys
have in the story. What Scott tells Alex is what my father once told my uncle.
Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me.
***
The two young boys stared up at the foreboding tree. The leaves were beginning to turn
shades of gold, and the autumn chill was in the air. Alex shivered.
Scott hugged his jacket closer to himself. "I told ya you should've brought a coat. Want
mine?" he offered. The fair-haired younger boy frowned.
"I'm not cold!" Alex protested, rubbing his arms and stamping his feet.
Scott smiled at his little brother. "Uh-huh," he mumbled as he pulled himself onto the
lower branches.
"Scott… Mama told us she didn't want us to climb that tree. She said we'd fall and get
hurt. We aren't supposed to climb this tree, Scott. Scott? Are you listening to me?"
"Mom's not here right now. And besides, I'm here. You'll be fine. Now come on!"
Scott urged.
Alex hugged himself tighter and shook his head, blonde hair flying up around his head
briefly like a halo. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna tell Mama."
Scott climbed higher and looked down at Alex. "You're such a baby!" he teased.
"I am not!"
"You are, too. A sewer baby."
"It's not true! Take it back!" Alex yelled.
"Make me," Scott taunted, scrambling higher still. Alex forgot his mother's warnings and
climbed after his brother. The chase continued until both youths had reach the highest
branch that would support their weight.
They enjoyed the view in companionable silence, before Alex remembered the reason for
the chase. "Take it back," he demanded again.
"Take what back?"
Alex fumed at his sibling's horrible short-term memory. "You called me a sewer baby."
"Oh. Yeah, I did," Scott admitted. "Well, you are."
"Liar," Alex declared, but in friendly tones. "What's that mean, anyway? Sewer baby."
Scott considered his next action for a few moments before turning to face his brother.
"I'm not supposed to tell you. Mom and Dad swore me to secrecy."
This had the desired effect as Alex's eyes widened in curiosity and anger at being left out
of secrets. "Please tell me," he begged.
"Well," began Scott. "I guess I can, 'cause you're my adopted brother, after all. See…
Pretty soon after you were born—in a sewer, remember—these bums found you and
turned over to the cops. The cops didn't know what to do with you, so they gave you to
the church. The preacher couldn't take care of you, because you stunk up the church you
smelled so much like the sewer. So, he stood on the corner and asked people if they'd
raise a stinky sewer baby. Mom was coming home from grocery shopping when the
preacher asked her to raise you. So she brought you home, cleaned you up, and swore me
and Dad to secrecy." Scott watched his brother's face as this information sunk in.
"That… That's not true!" Alex sputtered.
"Is so," Scott replied. "You just ask Mom. Ask her if you were adopted. She won't want
to hurt your feelings, so she'll say 'of course not, dear. Whatever gave you that idea?'
That's how you'll know."
Speaking of their mother… "Scott! Alex! Get down from that tree!" she yelled from the
ground. The startled boys almost fell, before regaining their balance and crawling down.
When they emerged from the top branches they saw their mother scowling at them.
"What if you had fallen out of there and cracked your skulls open? What would your
father and I do then, hm? Oh, honestly…"
Alex grasped his mother's hand, and looked up at her with large, worried eyes. "Mama...
Am I adopted?"
Caught of guard, their mother stammered the first thing that came to her. "Of course not,
dear. Whatever gave you that idea?"
Alex turned his wide-eyed gaze to his brother, who only smiled innocently in return.