Moving

One morning before the start of summer vacation, Sean's mother told him to tidy up and pack his belongings. "I'll pack your clothes," she told him. "While you pack up your books, paints, and other things. There are already some cardboard boxes in your room.'

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" asked Sean, following her into the bedroom and looking at the boxes. "I would have brought some. There are plenty outside the supermarket near the school."

"These were given to me at the supermarket. Oh, they're already unoccupied," she said as Sean lifted the nearest one, checking that it was empty.

'Fine. I'll do that,' Sean said. "So we're moving in soon?"

"Yes, the day after tomorrow. You won't be able to be at the end of term, but you won't mind, will you?" the mother commented to him.

"You mean Friday is my last day of school?" Sean removed the boxes to clear a path to his bed so he could sit down. You could have told me," he said. "I have to say goodbye to people, you know."

"I'm telling you," his mother said reasonably. "It doesn't take two days to say goodbye, does it? You don't need to bother about that."

"Why are we going to pack my things first?" asked Sean. "There's not that much and there's other stuff around the house, shouldn't we start with that first?"

Don't worry about that. Mrs. Smith will come to help me tomorrow."

Sean remembered what Richard Smith had said a few days ago. "My mother will help you pack your bags." He felt annoyed with himself for not saying something immediately, it was probably too late. But it was worth a try. "I can help you," he said. "We can do it together."

"You're going to be at school and you just told me you wanted to say goodbye."

"I can go at lunchtime. Mom, we can do it together. I don't want Mrs. Richard touching our things." Richard Smith's mother - going through things - telling Richard what they had found - Richard at school telling everyone in a big way, 'My mother says they have things that are very worn out and they don't have money to buy things that need to be changed.' The image was intolerable.

Sean's mother came over to sit next to him on the bed. She wore her expression of distress. It was clear she was feeling the pressure too, but she managed to keep her cool. "Everything has to be a problem for you, doesn't it?" she said. " You know you have to wrap everything carefully so it doesn't break and then put it in storage boxes in the right order - I don't doubt you'd do your best, but there's no room for anyone else - and she volunteered first."

Sean kept quiet and went on with the work he had agreed to do. His room looked very strange as he finished, but not as strange as the rest of the house when he got home from school the next day. It was very dreary. There were no curtains on the windows or decorations on the shelves, and in the center of the room were four large wooden boxes, filled with items wrapped in newspaper. But what caught Sean's eye most were the rectangles of lighter colored paint on the wall where pictures had once hung. Moving into the kitchen, he saw empty cabinets, doors wide open. Someone had done a thorough job.