“Dad, where are the yams at?” Frankie yelled up the basement stairs.
“Behind the peas, son!” Dad yelled back.
As Frankie walked to turn the light switch off, he looked over at his father’s terrible masonry job that he did right after Frankie’s twelfth birthday. Until recently, the basement had always been a place Frankie’s mother and father never allowed them in. The only things down there were various odds and ends, his father’s tools and the freezer next to the pantry.
Frankie flipped the switch, putting the basement back into darkness again.
“Jenny did Robert tell you what happened at school other day?” asked Frankie.
“No, he never calls me anymore,” said Jenny.
As mom was mashing the potatoes dad had cleaned and prepped for her, Frankie handed dad the yams he requested.
“Well, I met Suzy. She’s in my biology class. She also wants to be an X-ray Tech. She is so cool,” said Franky.
“Oh Frankie, another one? What happened to, um…what’s her name?” asked Jenny.
“Rebecca,” Frankie said somberly.
“Yea, what happened to her?” asked Jenny.
“I have no idea, she just disappeared. Everything seemed to be going great, then she just ghosted me,” said Frankie.
“She probably ran off with someone else! I never liked that girl!” said mom.
“Frankie!” yelled Robert from the living room, “Come here, I think this is the Lion’s year!”
“Ok, hang on!” Frankie yelled back.
“Better go and watch the game son,” dad said.
“Yea, ok,” replied Frankie.
It was Thanksgiving for the Goldsmith’s. A real family affair. All the kids were out-back with their father, Jenny’s husband, playing in the snow. Mom was trying to finish the pies, and Jenny was doing the usual “Wordle” on her phone. Robert was in the living room watching the game. The usual Thanksgiving chaos.
As Frankie went to sit with Robert, there was an abundance of chips, dips and cakes on the coffee table.
“They are killing the Bears,” said Robert happily.
“What’s the score?” asked Frankie.
“38-10. It’s going to be their year, I swear!” said Robert.
As Frankie kicked back watching the game with his brother, the kids were on the back deck taking off their snow gear and Robert started complaining. He was not a kid person.
The 3 siblings were all completely different due to being adopted, however, they were still solid in their bonds with each other and Robert always kept his opinions to himself.
My name is Frankie Goldsmith. I am here on Thanksgiving telling a story so screwed up, it’s hard to tell it without it sounding like a Criminal Minds episode. No seriously! If I was outside my head, I wouldn’t believe it myself. Let’s get back to it.
Frankie was in college chasing a degree as an X-ray technician. His sister Jenny was the oldest, being in her mid-30’s with 3 children. Her husband, James, was a salesman with a local company. He was a good guy who went to work, came home and enjoyed his simple and organic life.
“Everyone to the table, it’s time to eat!” yelled dad.
Everyone rushed to the table. Mom’s cooking was impeccable. This was one of three major meals cooked at the Goldsmith’s, that was “off the chain” delicious! The other two are Easter and Christmas/New Year’s.
All the food was great and unique to its holiday. As they gathered around and sat, Jenny’s twins, Lenny and Lucy started arguing.
“I want to sit next to him!” shouted Lucy.
“No, I am!” argued Lenny.
“Stop it you two! Olivia, you sit next to Paw Paw,” James said to his oldest daughter.
Lenny and Lucy seemed to argue about everything. We all settled into our seats and grabbed our neighbors’ hands so dad can say grace, which was one of our family traditions. As dad began, that’s when this story goes from 0 to 100 real quick!
“Father, as we gather here today, we give thanks to you…”
Crack! Boom! The front door exploded open and in rushed at least 30 police officers, fully armed and yelling for everyone to get on the ground. Two of the officers grabbed the children and rushed them out the hole where our parents’ front door used to be.
Now, let’s pause. You got to be wondering what in the hell is going on? Let’s back it up just a little bit, like 6 months. We will get back to it, I promise. First, I got to catch you up some so you understand what the hell is happening…
Jenny showed up around 10:30am, to talk to mom about the new outfits she purchased for Olivia. I was at the table studying for an exam I had later that week. Jenny chatted to mom about the clothes then she started to explain that she saw a TikTok about a cold case that reminded her of a reoccurring dream she had.
Mom’s face went blank, and she asked, “What did you do Jenny?”
“Nothing, what do you mean?” Jenny replied.
The room lost all its happy energy as I picked up mom’s vibes.
Oblivious, Jenny continued to talk about this TikTok and how she thought it was about her birth parents.
“Mom, you said the orphanage told you that my parents were very young and just left me there?” Jenny asked.
“Yes dear. Now, enough of this talk. I need to go to the grocery store. You two lock up if you leave,” mom said.
Something was definitely up to something. Mom appeared so rattled, as she was fumbling about. She left in such a hurry she forgot to grab her phone. Jenny came over and sat at the table with me.
“Frankie, I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell mom and dad,” Jenny said, with a serious expression.
I nodded and she asked, “Have you ever heard of ‘23 and Me’?”
“No, what’s that?” Frankie asked.
“They use DNA to find out your ancestral family tree. I sent off my DNA and discovered that I am from Northern Africa,” Jenny said.
“Ok, why the sudden interest?” Frankie asked.
“That is not important. What is important is that I found out who my birth parents were.” Jenny said.
“Were?” Frankie asked puzzled, “Jenny, what is going on?”
“Hang on,” Jenny got up and walked over to the counter where mom’s phone was and picked it up. She tried to unsuccessfully unlock the phone twice.
“What are you doing?!” Frankie yelled, “That’s mom’s phone! You are acting crazy!”
“I got to know for sure Frankie!” Jenny said.
Frankie paused a minute, sighed heavily and said, “try our birthyears.”
The phone unlocked and Jenny started to go through it, and it was all normal stuff.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jenny said quietly.
“Will you tell me what is going on? What did you think was going to be on it?” Frankie asked.
“Frankie, mom and dad kidnapped us!” Jenny blurted out, “There is no orphanage. My name is not Jenifer Goldsmith, it’s Ada Abimbola. My parents and I went missing 31 years ago.”
“What?! This can’t be true! Mom and dad would not do this!” Frankie yelled.
“Frankie, I researched it. It’s true. I talked to a detective, and we cannot tell them we know! We must act normally. The detective believes there are more children they kidnapped besides me, you and Robert. The police know and discovered who you are too.” Jenny said.
Frankie knew it was true. As hard as it was to believe, he could feel it. What now? This was all he could think. He walked over and sat on the couch and Jenny came over and sat next to him, knowing exactly what he was feeling. Betrayal, hurt and curiosity. Who were these people?
“Frankie, we must work with the police. James knows all about it, but we cannot tell Robert!” Jenny said seriously, “The police are watching mom and dad, they think they are holding another family now.”
“Can you meet with Detective Hunt? He will explain everything to you,” Jenny continued.
…Ok, now that you are all caught up, what now? Should I leave it alone and just walk away? No, you say? Alright, I will finish the story the best way I can, but it doesn't get better. If, you’re sure? Ok, let’s get to it!
Just as the 2 officers brought the children outside, dad jumped up and ran towards a cabinet. Pop! Pop! The police shot him just as he was reaching into the cabinet.
Robert kept yelling, “can someone please tell me what is going on?!” I yelled over at him to just do as they say. Mom got onto the floor, and it was obvious by her face that she knew exactly what was going on. The gig was up.
As I was lying on the floor, I looked over at dad and he was not moving, just bleeding out. I did not feel any remorse.
The officers handcuffed mother and led her out the door. They let the rest of us get up. Jenny, James and I took Robert over to the couch and told him what was going on. He just sat staring blankly, not saying anything.
Life seemed to come to a halt after that. Everything played out exactly like Detective Hunt said, except 1 detail. They never expected that one, overlooked detail.
The police took “dad” or Thomas Dunning’s phone and found evidence of everything. Information and photos of all the children they abducted, the ones they sold, the parents they killed. In the basement they found the remains of over 40 bodies behind the block wall, as well as a torture chamber. They also discovered multiple storage units spread across 7 states.
There was one thing that Detective Hunt could not figure out until this day, right now. As I tell this story, there is one more loose end.
What changed 18 years ago? Why did they change their M.O.? Detective Hunt cross referenced everything. Who was helping them abduct these children?
That is when I figured it out, well it was something I just felt. Do you want to know? Ok, I’ll tell you…
It has been about 6 months since the takedown. This was the weirdest affair Colorado had ever seen. Jenny, Frankie and Robert tried to move on, but it was almost impossible because their life was now on every news station.
Frankie tried moving, twice, with the same result. One day, Robert was visiting, and he and Frankie were talking, when it happened.
Something Robert said caught Frankie’s attention and he knew. The only way Robert could know that was if he was a part of it.
Frankie bought a gun for protection, and he tried to act normally as he went for it. He slid the drawer open, as Robert watched. Oh no! It was gone! Frankie looked up and Robert motioned him to sit down.
THE END or was this all an Obscure Recollection?
R.I.P. Michael Brent Haddix
I want to dedicate this one to my brother. At 6:30 pm Saturday my brother passed away. He had been battling liver failure for 2 years. Thanks everyone at Reedsy. You guys really are my friends and colleagues. I found writing and left alcoholism behind. This community has been my therapy to keep me away from this disease. I miss you already Michael.
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45 comments
Wow this was a whirlwind. Get structuring with the italiced keep ups. Great voice. Thanks for sharing
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Thank you. I started this one halfway through writing I got a call that my brother died Saturday night. He was 39? I had to finish. Thank you though. Writing has become my alcohol. I normally would have bought booze. I dove into writing and finished this and wrote over 4500 words on my new novel. Writing has become such a positive outlet in my life now. Thanks you guys here are so great!
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Wow, sorry to hear that. I'm glad the writing brings you peace 🙏
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Writing is very therapeutic, sorry for your loss. You will get through, keep Writing
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So sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing
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Thank you Giulio
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Donald, I am so sorry about your brother, you must be going through a really hard time. It's great that Reedsy has helped you through so much and the community on here continue to give support. Your story was so well told. Take care.
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An incredible story, Donald. I look forward to reading more of your work! I'm truly sorry for your loss—remember, you don’t have to grieve alone.
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Sorry to hear about your brother, Donald, may his memory be eternal. I found your story interesting, and certainly did not see that twist coming. Keep writing, I look forward to reading more from you.
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So sorry about your brother, and I'm glad that you have found writing. It really is a way of life. This was a very big story for a flash fiction piece. It almost seems like an outline for a much longer story with a lot of interesting elements to explore. Best of luck.
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Victoria, I write strangely and yes it’s a piece of a story. When I write I see everything at once. Every book or story I see its entirety. Like a movie in my mind. This one I saw more. In 3000 words it’s hard. I go to school for Creative Writing they have been teaching me a lot of structure. I am getting scalded daily for my grammar. I am working to improve. This months course is, Literacy Techniques and Story Development. We are dissecting storylines and paragraphs. It’s interesting. Thanks for reading!
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Firstly, I'm so sorry you lost your brother. Big hugs and prayers. I really liked your submission and I'm so glad that word weaving has helped you come through alcoholism. Keep on keeping on 🤗
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Thank you KH, I want to post the Eulogy I wrote. Michael Brent Haddix, who was he? He was my brother… What is it to be a brother? In Michael’s case, brother is many things. It is someone with a big heart, a fellow Christian, a hard-working man and for me, was a person who was always there for me, no matter what. Ask yourself, who is your brother or sister? I write this through deep thought and great reflection. It is all I will ever have now, reflection. Our lives have taken a new fork in our continued journey. I just want to remind you to...
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Ms. KH, I do believe this is the first time I have heard word weaving. I like that. It’s like a fancy way of saying “ making one with writing.” I wrote this cause of Reedsy. I might be weird but this place for me has become a brotherhood, or place of refuge. Thanks to everyone in here. I hope you do write one, a story. I will read it. You’re in the right place. This is a family here. The Reedsy family!
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Powerful story, with an important topic. My sympathies about your brother — we lost someone to liver-kidney failure recently, and I find writing is great for my peace of mind, and fun. Excellent work, Donald!
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Thx Martin!
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Love seeing the words “Criminal Minds episode” appearing in a story, Sorry for your loss, my condolences.
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Haha yea love the show. I have a book “Never” releasing you’ll love! Thanks.
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This story was good but lacked alittle focus. I reread it a few times but couldn;t keep straight who the children and who the adults were. I would like to know more about the family pre- illegal adoption and what happned to frankie and robert afterwards. In lieu of the circumstancs that you were writing this, it was very good. Condolences about your brother. It's good you have comfort in writing. Good writing comes from a deep emotional place. Will look forward to reading more. Thanks for taking time to read mine ! With all the stress an...
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Thanks. I always struggle here how to write a vision and end it.
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So sorry for the loss of your brother. So glad you found writing instead of alcohol. It helps. I liked your story, but I think it could be better told as a novel. It would give opportunity to punch up the relationship between Frankie and Robert which would make Robert's complicity even more painful for Frankie.
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It’s hard here to write it all. Thanks so much! Donnie
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I would read more and more of this; and, I’m sorry to hear about your brother, and proud of you for your growth and personal strength. Sending good vibes your way.
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Thanks Lila! Donnie
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I’m so sorry for your loss! Hope you are doing ok. Loved the story. You jumped around from different scenes very successfully. It was a very effective strategy. Nice work!
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Yea my mind is a NASCAR track! Always pit stopping! Thank you so much! Donnie
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Goodness this was an amazing story Donald and I’m sorry about your brother. Keep writing and we’ll keep reading!
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Thank you. Soo sorry for delayed response. I have been struggling here in this chapter of life. We bury him today.
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So sorry for your loss. Bless you for using writing as therapeutic. Excellent story twists. Thanks for liking 'Life Sentence'. Put up another chapter.
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Thank you Mary. You’re always a nice set of words to absorb. As a ray of sunlight. Sorry for not being vibrant myself. Been a little cloudy lately.
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Thanks for liking 'Telltale Sign'. Understandable.
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Despite the outlandish plot, the story touches on genuine emotions of betrayal, confusion, and the struggle to reconcile with a shattered reality. Frankie's narration adds a layer of personal reflection to the horrific events.
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Evelyn my dear! Thank you! Donnie
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I am so sorry for the lost of your brother Donald😔
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Thank you Evelyn this was a complete mess. I am a mess. He was my baby brother. I was supposed to go first. Thank you.
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We can’t blame God 🤲😩
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First, I'm sorry for the loss of your brother. I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. Second, I love the twists in the plot of your story!
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Thank you timothy
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Another great story! Loved it.
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Thank you KC it’s always a pleasure to get a review from you! You’re amazing
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Good take on the prompt, Donald.
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Thanks Rebecca. This one was hard.
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It is hard to keep churning out new stories every week.
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This one was real hard. Halfway through I got a call my brother had passed. I am a 20+ year alcoholic. So this is my therapy writing. Instead of losing it I wrote all day. You guys are my friends. It helps to speak to all of Reedsy. Everyone here is here as such. I appreciate all of you.
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Bless you. We are a good bunch on here. I have issues myself with alcohol. It doesn't take too much to push me off the cliff, and the death of a loved one must be doubly difficult for you to cope with. Keep writing and expressing yourself.
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