Tom the Turkey...a “Little One” story (M/f)
(c) 2000 by Sampast and Don A. Landhill
(Regular Disclaimers apply. Warning: This is a little upsetting to
children, of all ages, so be careful...LOL)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was all packed and getting excited. We were going to my Aunt and Uncle’s for a
few days and were gonna spend Thanksgiving with them. They lived on a farm and had lotsa animals. I had never been there, but when Uncle John
had visited last time he told me all about it.
Mommy made sure I used the potty before we got in
the car. She was always good like
that. I had some toys and books to keep
me busy, as it was a long ride. But I
was good; I didn’t want any trouble before we got to the farm.
“Daddy? Uncle John sayed he gots chickens, and a
donkey, and ducks and more. I so
excited,” I said, jumping up and down a little in my seat.
“I know, little one, we are almost there. Calm down,” Daddy said.
But I couldn’t help it. After all, I was just seven.
Daddy looked in his rear-view mirror and caught my
eye. “I think you will enjoy your visit
there, little one.” I just smiled.
As soon as we arrived there, Mommy helped Daddy
take our bags outta the car. I saw Aunt
Helen and Uncle John but I raced right past them on my way to see the animals.
Daddy watched me run and said, “Little one? Don't you want to say hello to the people
before the animals?”
“No, Daddy, I wanna see the animals,” I said,
still running.
“Samantha, that isn't very polite. You can see the animals in a minute. Please say hello to your aunt and uncle
first. Besides there may be farm rules
you need to know about.”
Rules? Oh
man, everywhere I went, there were rules.
I stopped short and came back.
“Oh, okay.” I went up to Aunt
Helen and Uncle John and gave them hugs and kisses. Then I looked at my uncle seriously and asked, “Are there farm
rules I gotta know about?”
He looked at Daddy and grinned. “Well, you do have to be a bit careful about
some things. Don't touch any of the
farm equipment, particularly the tractor and other machines. Stay out of the shed,” he said as he pointed
it out. “And don't try to get in with
the pigs; they can get very upset.”
My face lit up as I looked at him. “Pigs?
I LOVE pigs. Can I go see them
now?” Pigs were cool and one of my
friends from back home, Jannie, just absolutely loved pigs. She would be so excited when I told her.
Uncle John smiled and said, “Yes, but you have to
stay outside the pen, all right, Samantha?
Come with me and I will show them to you.”
“Oh, okay.
Bye Mommy, bye Daddy. See you
later,” I said, as I followed Uncle John to the animal pens.
But before we got to the pigs, I saw another
animal. “Wow, a turkey!” I
shouted. I ran right over. I had never seen one in real life before. It looked different than in books.
Uncle John smiled. “Yes, that is our Thanksgiving turkey. See how big he is?”
I nodded.
“Wow, he is big. What’s
his name?”
“We call him Tom: that's kind of a standard name
for turkeys.”
I nodded.
“Ohhhh! He's cute. Can I pet him?” I asked cautiously.
“Well, he mostly doesn't like people touching
him,” Uncle John explained. “You can
walk up slowly, but if he starts to gobble at you, don't try to get too close,
or he might nip you.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, taking a few steps closer to
the turkey. He really was big and I was
a bit afraid, so I just ended up smiling at him. “He’s really fat. Can I
help you feed him later? Maybe?”
“Sure, you can help me scatter his feed later on,
if you like. There are also ducks on
the pond over here. I understand you
like ducks. You can watch them, but
stay away from the edge of the pond -- it is cold this time of year.”
“Okay, Uncle John,” I said. I did love ducks. And I ran to see them. I
also saw the chickens, the donkey, a horse, and bunnies. I loved the bunnies. These were much bigger and fatter than the
ones I had at home.
The farm was so much fun. I woke up early every morning and helped
Aunt Helen get the eggs. I also helped
Uncle John feed the other animals.
Especially the turkey. I loved
Tom...he was so cute, in a turkey sort of way.
After a couple of days, it was my job to feed Tom. I loved it!
But one morning when I got to Tom’s pen, he wasn’t
there. It was the day before
Thanksgiving. I looked everywhere for
him. But when I couldn’t find him, I
ran into the house, yelling.
“Daaaadddddddddy!
Uncle Johnnnnnnn!”
Daddy peered out of the kitchen. “What is it, little one? What's all the
yelling about?”
I ran to Daddy crying. “Tom's not in his pen. I
went to say hi to him and feed him, but he wasn't there.”
Aunt Helen overheard me explaining to Daddy and
said, “I think Uncle John took the turkey out to get him ready for
Thanksgiving. He has to weigh him
before the big day.”
I clearly had no idea what she was talking about
and looked at Daddy for an explanation.
He looked at my aunt and then back at me and said, “You do understand
that he is going to be our Thanksgiving turkey, don't you? He is not a pet, little one.”
“What do you mean, Thanksgiving turkey, Daddy?” I
asked. I really had no idea what he
meant.
Daddy sat down on the couch in the den and pulled
me into his lap. Apparently he had
figured out that I thought Tom was a pet, and not dinner. He turned me to face him and explained, “You
know we always have turkey for Thanksgiving dinner, don't you? You loved it very much last year. Well, the turkey on our plate doesn't come
from nowhere -- it has to grow. The
bird gets killed and cooked to make the turkey dinner.”
My eyes became wide as I listened to Daddy. I looked at Aunt Helen and then at Mommy,
who had just come into the room. I
turned back and stared at Daddy. “We're
gonna EAT Tom?”
When all the adults nodded, I screamed,
“Noooooooooo!” I jumped off Daddy’s lap
and ran outside, crying.
Daddy followed me. I think he knew just how upset I was. He found me sitting on the ground inside Tom’s pen, crying.
Just then, Uncle John returned with Tom. “Samantha, please get out of the pen so I
can put the turkey back into it, until we are ready to clean him.”
I just looked up at Uncle John, the tears falling
down my face. I looked over at
Daddy. He said, “She just realized
where turkey dinners come from and she is a bit upset.”
Uncle John looked at me and said, “Ohhhh, I
thought she understood that.”
I looked up at Uncle John and said, “You’re not
really gonna,” I paused, as my breath caught, “*kill* Tom, are you?”
Uncle John ushered both me and Daddy out of the
pen. He put Tom down, closed the latch
and walked out. He looked at me, nodded
and said, “Well, Samantha, yes, I'm afraid I am. That is what he was raised for.
Everyone is ready for a turkey dinner.
This is a working farm, Samantha, not a pet show. You like meat, don't you?”
I was so upset.
“I did, ‘til I knew where it came from,” I said, sadly.
“Come on, little one, let’s go into the house,”
Daddy said, offering me his hand.
I looked up at Daddy and my uncle. Uncle John just shook his head and walked
away, wanting to finish his other chores. I took a deep breath.
“Daddy? Can I have some time alone with Tom before, well, you know?”
“If you want, I guess. But it may just make you feel worse. I'm sorry, Samantha, I should have made it clearer to you before
you started thinking of him as a pet,” Daddy said, sadly.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” I said, just as sadly. I watched Daddy walk away and head toward
the house. I looked down at Tom in his
pen. He was huge. And I had helped to feed him. If I had known, I would have starved him.
“I’m sorry, Tom, I didn’t know,” I explained. The turkey looked up at me. This time it was him that had no idea what I
was talking about. Then I had an
idea. I looked at Tom again and said,
“I not gonna let them make you into dinner, don't you worry!”
About an hour later, Daddy called me into the
den. I walked in and saw Mommy, Aunt
Helen, and Uncle John all sitting there.
I felt like I walked into the Spanish Inquisition.
Daddy looked at me sternly and asked, “Samantha?
Do you have any idea where Tom is?”
“Why, he’s missing?” I asked, surprised.
Daddy said, “Yes, he is missing, and don't give me
that innocent look. I know you too well
for that, and I know how upset you were about Tom. Now what did you do with him, Samantha?”
Darn, I was caught. I guess I knew it wouldn’t take them long to figure out Tom was
missing. It’s not like I could have
substituted him with a different turkey.
I had no other turkey.
“Do with him, Daddy? I didn't do nothing with him,” I explained, turning away from his
staring eyes.
But Daddy turned me back. “Are you *very* sure about that,
Samantha? You know haw I feel about the
truth. Did you open his pen and take
him out?”
I looked at Mommy, Aunt Helen and then over at
Uncle John. He was staring at me. I could tell he was a bit upset. “Well, ummm, well,” I began. “Daddy? If I say maybe I did open the pen,
will I be in trouble for lying just now?” I asked cautiously.
Daddy sat down in Uncle John’s big black recliner,
and pulled me in front of him. “I'll
tell you what, I know you are upset.
I'll start this conversation over.
But I want to hear the truth right away,” Daddy said. He paused and then continued. “Samantha, do you know what happened to Tom?
Did you let him out?”
Very slowly, I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I said. Then
added, “But he's safe.”
“I see.
And just where did you put him?
Where is he 'safe’?”
I knew I had to fess up. It’s not like I could have kept Tom hidden forever, anyway. “He's in the shed, where the farm equipment
is. I’ll show you,” I said, turning
towards the door.
“I think you had better,” Daddy said.
Uncle John and Daddy followed me to the shed. The door was open. Hmmm, I knew I didn’t leave the door open. We walked in and the shed was empty. Well, not completely empty but there was no
turkey. There was a big mess,
though. A bag of feed had been torn
open, and some farm equipment was on its side.
Uncle John ran in to fix things, and I slowly turned to see Daddy
staring at me.
“Young lady, did you latch the shed when you left
Tom here?” he asked.
My eyes opened wide. “Ummm, I don't remember, Daddy, he was just here a minute
ago.” I ran out yelling, “Tom, Tom,
where are you?”
I started to run, but Daddy grabbed me. “All right, Samantha, we will find him. I want you to go up to your room and wait
for me. You are in trouble, young lady.
You were told not to go into the shed, and you knew better than to let
Tom loose.”
I looked up into Daddy’s big blue eyes. Why was he being so mean? “But, Daddy, I wanted to save Tom,” I
cried.
“Go, Samantha,” Daddy said, pointing toward the
house. I looked and saw Mommy and Aunt
Helen standing on the porch. I ran to
them, but they offered me no solace.
Then I ran up to the room I had been staying in, threw myself on the bed,
and cried.
Daddy came up to the room about a half an hour
later. I was still crying. He came in, sat on the bed, and rubbed my
back. After a few minutes, he made me
sit up.
“All right, Samantha, you and I have some things
to discuss. Do you understand why I am
upset with you? Why you are going to be punished?”
I looked up at him. I knew it was futile to try to push off this punishment. I knew I had been wrong, but Tom was my
friend, and I had to try. But now it
was too late. Tom was either gone and I
was in big trouble, or they found him.
But I still was in big trouble.
I looked up at Daddy and said, “Cuz I letted Tom
go and I went into the shed, Daddy?”
“Yes, and that caused a lot of problems, and you
could have been hurt in the shed. And
besides, you were told that the shed was off-limits, weren't you?”
I nodded slowly.
“Yes, sir. But I didn't want
Uncle John to kill Tom, Daddy,” I cried.
“Well, I can understand that you were upset about
that, and we could have talked a bit more, but there are things in the world
that we don't like, but have to put up with.
There is no way for us to live, much less eat meat, without killing
other creatures. That's the way things
are. And this is Uncle John's farm, not
yours or mine, and you made a lot of extra trouble for him. So you are getting a good spanking, young
lady.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I wanted to say that I didn’t see anything good about a spanking,
ever, but thought better of it. Daddy
wouldn’t a liked that kind of humor.
I got up and stood in front of Daddy. “Daddy? I'm sorry I let Tom go.”
Daddy nodded and said, “Okay, I accept that. But you are still getting a spanking.”
Daddy pulled down my pants and panties and lifted
me over his lap. As usual, from nowhere
came a hairbrush and he started spanking me with it. {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!}
{Whack!} {Whack!}
“Owwww, Daddddy, not the brush! I'm sorrrrry! Waaaaaah!” I yelled. He
had just started and it hurt so much already.
{Whack!} {Whack!} “You were very naughty, {Whack!}
young lady. {Whack!} If we were at
home, {Whack!} I might have gotten out the ruler. {Whack!} You will not {Whack!} {Whack!} go places {Whack!} that you have been told {Whack!} to
stay out of.” {Whack!}
“Owwwwwwww, yes, sir! Waaah, I sorrrry!” I cried.
{Whack!} {Whack!} “And you will not {Whack!}
{Whack!} let animals out {Whack!} of their pens {Whack!} or cages {Whack!} or
other places {Whack!} without permission.
{Whack!} {Whack!} It causes a
lot of trouble.” {Whack!} {Whack!}
“Owwww, yes, Daddy!”
{Whack!} {Whack!} “I punished you once before {Whack!} for letting the puppies {Whack!}
out of their cages {Whack!} at the pet store.
{Whack!} Now you did something like that {Whack!} again. {Whack!} {Whack!}
I don't want {Whack!} to have to punish you for this or anything like it
{Whack!} again.” {Whack!} {Whack!}
“Owwwwww, DADDDDY! Okaaaay, I'm sorrrrrrry!” I said, crying hysterically. I was already upset about finding out Tom
was not just a pet, and now I had to deal with this very hard spanking.
{Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} “All right, little one,
your spanking is over. I forgive you,”
he said, helping me down off his lap.
I was sobbing.
“I'm sorry, Daddy,” I said, reaching back to rub my very sore bottom.
“I know you are, little one. Here,” Daddy said, opening his arms for a
hug. I ran into them and held on
tight. “I love you very much, little
one, no matter what.”
“I love you, too, Daddy,” I said, nestling into
his chest. I loved when Daddy put his
big strong arms around me and held me after a spanking. I thought about something. “Daddy? Do you think Uncle John will find
Tom?”
“Well, little one, he already found him.”
“Oh,” I said.
I was kinda hoping Tom had made it far, far away. “And he’s still gonna make him into
dinner?”
“Yes, little one.
I'm sorry that upsets you. Uncle
John has already killed Tom, and he is getting him ready for the turkey dinner
for tomorrow, now.”
Daddy held me tight. He must have known I’d be upset.
“I didn't even get to say goodbye, Daddy. I loved Tom,” I said, crying into Daddy’s chest.
Daddy just held me, knowing there was nothing he
could say that would make me feel better.
The rest of the day was busy, getting things ready
for tomorrow’s big dinner. I helped a
little, but basically I was in mourning for my friend. Everyone tried to be extra nice to me,
except Uncle John. I think he was still
a little annoyed with me.
The next day came and I helped Mommy and Aunt
Helen put the food on the table.
Although I remembered how much I liked turkey the year before, I took a
stand and refused to eat it. For once,
Mommy and Daddy did not get upset about me not eating something.
Thanksgiving was good, anyway. Aunt Helen made me macaroni and cheese. We all said what we were thankful for. I was thankful for having a nice, loving
family. But I was especially thankful
for getting to know Tom. He hadn’t been
my friend for long, but he was a nice turkey.
I was sorry about what had happened to him, but I did learn a lot from
my experience on the farm.
And it would be a while before I would eat turkey
again. At least I had chicken and
hamburgers. I knew those didn’t come
from a turkey.
The end.