1933 were dark times. Life was tough for the Loud family, but so was life for every other family. Banks closed, money was lost, and people were desperate. A numerous people were laid off from work, leaving families homeless and starving. The lucky ones managed to keep their jobs, only to have their income and paychecks reduced to dust.
Lincoln's mother and father were the lucky few. Lincoln's father was an office worker and his mother was a dentist. Since their pay was low, both had to work overtime. They would come home from work early in the morning, only to go back a couple hours later and be gone the entire day. This was their daily routine now. Exhausting and plain.
Most of the time, Lincoln felt like he didn't have parents anymore. They were too enclosed by their work, never stopping and spending time with the family like they used to. He couldn't blame them. After all, they had 11 mouths to feed.
All of Lincoln's sisters, including himself, ceased from attending school. They all managed to pick up small work in order to financially support their parents. Some Loud sisters did labor work around the neighborhood and delivered newspapers, others sold snacks and tutored young children. They only got a handful of silver coins for their work.
The children could barely buy bread with all the money they accumulated. With no other options, they stuck to eating only bread and canned beans. They sliced thin pieces and stashed the rest for later. Lily was the one that ate most, and rightfully so, because she was the youngest.
Then the Loud family created a system: the parents would pay for the home and all the bills. The children would pay for the food.
It took a lot of effort from the parents to keep the run-down house alive, but they managed by picking at their children's life savings.
The house lost its bright color and was now replaced by a despondent gloom. Most of the furniture and paintings were sold and so were the television and home phones. The only thing that they kept was the radio. The children begged their parents to keep it. They obliged. The radio was the most important source of entertainment.
Lori, Leni, Lola, and Lucy listened to the dramatic stories and tales of horror, letting their imagination take them away from the trying times and into a world of limitless freedom.
Luna listened to the jazz music that played every now and then, blasting the music to obnoxious levels. She brought Lily with her sometimes. Lily enjoyed the soft and romantic music, close enough to a lullaby, that would put the baby to sleep.
Luan loved the roles of the comedic actors that performed every night. She giggled and laughed at their imbecilic behavior and witty remarks.
Lynn and Lana were enthralled by baseball and the bombastic energy of the commentators. Both girls shouted in joy and excitement as their favorite team won another game.
Lisa mostly listened to news and politics. Lincoln tagged along with her the most, also being curious about the wellbeing of their country and economy. At some point, he heard that there was a growing tension somewhere in Europe. Something about a possible increase in hostility, people rioting the streets, destroying businesses and burning books, and it was all done under the leadership of one man.
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Lisa asked. Lincoln waited for her to continue. "One minute, everyone's happy; the next, neighbors are turning on each other in the blink of an eye." Lisa shook her head and sighed.
Lincoln wasn't too concerned about foreign affairs. He was more preoccupied with how life would go on at home. He hoped desperately for help, but the government seemed to neglect the cries of the people. "I'm sure it'll be alright," Lincoln reassured her.
He looked at Lisa and gave her a comforting smile. She didn't fall for it. Lisa looked at him with a hint of worry, then back to the radio. "We can only hope," she mumbled.
The sun began to set and the house grew quiet. Lincoln was lying down on his bed, reading a dusty comic book that he managed to buy off a homeless boy. He was flipping through the pages when his stomach growled.
Lincoln lowered the comic from his face and looked at his stomach. "What's up, boy? You hungry?" A low growl was his only response. He chuckled at his luck. "Alright, let's go see what we can eat." He patted his stomach and threw himself up with a grunt.
The boy made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, but was stopped by muffled voices. Lincoln looked around for the source as the conversation went on. He tracked it to his parent's bedroom.
Lincoln wasn't so keen on snooping around, knowing it'll only cause trouble, but his curiosity seemed more appetizing than food. He pressed his ear against the thin wooden door and listened in on his parents.
"I'm telling you, we are not selling this house." His mother stated.
"But we can't keep going like this, Rita." His father whined. "Look at us, we look like walking garbage, our clothes are filthy, we lost most, if not, all our belongings and we haven't had a good night's rest in forever."
His mother scoffed. "Then what would you have us do? Just sell the house and buy the cheapest apartment there is, like you said?"
"No." His father remarked. "Yes?" He groaned. "I don't know."
"Exactly, you don't know," She said. "but I know with a certainty that my children aren't going to live in those God forsaken Hoovervilles like a bunch of hobos." Her mother stated. "As long as I have a job and am making money, then this house isn't going under."
"Goddamit women, get it through your thick skull!" His father lashed out. "Money isn't growing on trees and jobs don't last forever."
"What do you mean?" His mother asked, baffled by his father's statement.
"Just because we weren't the first twenty to get screwed over, doesn't mean we aren't going to be the next that will." His father clarified. The room grew silent.
After a while, his father sighed and continued. "Look, honey, I wasn't serious about the whole 'selling the house' idea, but believe me, when things start getting tough, we need to have a bold and risky plan ready to ensure the safety and future of our children."
The room grew silent again. Lincoln pressed his ear harder against the door, trying to make out every sound. Lincoln was shocked when he heard his mother's gentle weeping. "I'm scared," was all she said.
"I know," his father said. "I am too."
A chill ran down Lincoln's back. He pushed himself away from the door and sneaked into the kitchen. His appetite was gone. He only craved for a quick escape from his parent's unsettling conversation. His heart sped up and his mind tried desperately to control the frenzy of worry that troubled him.
"Sell the house?" He considered his father's idea. He walked over to the dining table and pulled out a chair. He fell onto the wooden seat with a grunt. He buried his face in his hands and massaged his temples roughly. "No, we can't," he answered himself. He turned to the kitchen window and looked at the orange sky. He recalled all the happy moments his family had, memories of childish laughter and family bonding. "This house is too important for us to lose." He stated.
Lincoln was determined about keeping the house, but what can he really do? He doesn't make enough money to keep the house afloat. His newspaper-runs only made him less than a dollar and even then he spends it all on food.
Lincoln ruffled his hair in rage. He pushed back the chair, got up and made his way towards the house door. He was stressing himself out. He thought a small walk around the block would clear his mind from his troubles, but truthfully, he just didn't want to be in the house.