Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36393004-20181109225741

Note: Thanksgiving themed pasta that I just need an ending to. I will complete this this weekend, but I am curious to see what people think.

Nick curled up on a park bench and pulled at his jacket in an attempt to block the chilling wind. His body was cold and his stomach begged him for food. It had been a week since he had a real meal and it did not help that every store was advertising Thanksgiving dinner. He would lay and stare at the advertisements of freshly roasted turkey and dressing with cranberry sauce, his mouth watering at the thought. It had been six years since his last Thanksgiving but he could almost taste it. Nick had come so far from that loving home and now the streets were his residence.

When he could not take the ache anymore, Nick found his way to the local soup kitchen. If he had ventured there sooner he may have been in luck but the wares had been cleaned out by the homeless of the city hours ago and the doors had been closed. Nick’s feet shuffled down the sidewalk toward a small diner. He hoped he could find some scraps among the trash to settle the argument his body was having with his mind. His fingers plucked through rotting debris that most people would never consider consuming but Nick was desperate. His search distracted him from everything else.

A gentle tap on Nick’s shoulder startled him, most people avoided the homeless like the plague but at this moment Nick had been approached. He turned to face a rather well dressed young man with clean-cut brown hair and a tailored suit. The young man’s blue eyes seemed to twinkle a bit behind his cheery smile as he extended a gloved hand outward toward the far less clean man across from him. Nick shakily took the person’s hand and shook it, more out of reflex than anything. He had been raised to give a firm hand shake to anyone who offered. The idea felt sick when he pondered it.

“My name is Benjamin,” the young man said, breaking the silence.

“N-Nick,” the older man’s voice cracked.

“Looks like you could use a good home-cooked meal,” Benjamin’s teeth showed from behind an even bigger smile.

Nick’s eyes grew wide at the prospect of real food and his stomach growled in acceptance of the offer. Before he had truly thought of his choice, Nick was guided to a small car and asked to take a seat. As soon as Nick placed himself within the vehicle his body instantly felt warmer. The heat system poured warm air through the vents and it was like a little piece of heaven Nick had forgotten even existed. Benjamin returned to the driver’s seat and started down the road and away from the dark alley that Nick had called home for so long.

Benjamin looked up to his rear view mirror, “My family has a tradition, we each find someone in need and bring them home for Thanksgiving. This year you will be my guest.”

Nick nodded, half listening to the boy, “That’s nice,” he watched out the window as the city began to disappear as the car travelled further into the more rural area just beyond it.

After a thirty minute drive the car turned right onto a path that was beset by large oak trees. Even with all the leaves plucked from the branches they seemed ominous overhead. Nick stared up at the encroaching forest as the little car travelled deeper into them. Within a few seconds the trees opened up again to reveal a large clearing in the midst. Standing precisely in the center of this clearing was a large Victorian mansion that had so many lights upon it, it lit the entire area around. It was like a festival of lights in the middle of nowhere. Nick’s eyes scanned the beauty of it all as the car came to a stop at the back end of a large circular driveway. He looked up the expanse of steps that lead to an even larger set of wooden doors that were so intricately carved Nick knew it must have been expensive. His gaze only broke when Benjamin opened the rear door.

“Here we are,” Benjamin said with another smile, “Home sweet home.”

Nick stepped out without a word, his mouth hanging agape at the spectacle. He was guided up the steps and through the entryway. He found himself standing in a gigantic foyer with highly polished marble floors, the light from the chandelier above reflected on the stark white surface like stars. A tall gentleman approached Nick and reached for his coat. Nick allowed it to be removed and the man gently hung the tattered garment in a closet near the front door. When the man returned they were ushered into a large dining hall to the left of the foyer. The table sat a good two dozen people and each seat was filled except two. Benjamin greeted his family and introduced his guest before showing Nick to his seat.

“We are so glad you could join us this evening,” Benjamin’s mother stated with gentleness.

“Yes, it is so good to share this holiday with people who truly know what it means to be thankful,” the father replied with a much deeper tone.

“Thank you,” Nick’s voice came shyly, not sure how to take all of this in as he took his seat.

For every well-dressed man or woman there was a person of lesser dress to their side. Benjamin had been right, each family member had plucked someone from the street to share their Thanksgiving dinner. He wondered how he had never heard of such a thing. Certainly an act of such generosity would get some sort of media attention. He silently reserved to the fact that he would have to make sure these people were commended for their caring act. Each of the homeless around him sat eagerly awaiting their meal and within fifteen minutes of idle chatter the first course was brought to the table.

Plates of mashed potatoes with gravy, corn pudding, green bean casseroles, and the like were staged about the table and as they were served the needy dug in quick. Nick was no exception, his body almost acted of its own will as the portions were shoveled from the dinner ware to his waiting mouth. A young girl in dirty clothes finished quickly and asked politely for more. The hosts were eager to share their wealth of food with her and anyone else who asked for more. The second course included a perfectly roasted turkey, glazed ham, and dressing with cranberry sauce. Just the sight of it make Nick swell with excitement. The second plate when down as quickly as the first and his stomach was close to bursting.

A cart was brought, adorned in silver plating that reflected the light of the room around them. One by one lids were raised to reveal desserts of every imaginable variety. They had pecan pie, pumpkin pie, chocolate cake, red velvet cake, cookies, ice creams, puddings, and cobblers. Nick almost fainted at the thought of so much food in one place. His eyes rested on a steaming plate of apple pie. He licked his lips as a big slice was placed in front of him. His fork dug in and pulled free a hunk of spiced heaven that was almost as big as his mouth. He laid it delicately on his tongue and Nick’s eyes closed with joy. A tear even rolled down his wrinkled cheeks at the taste. All of them had filled themselves to the point of barely being able to move and could only hope this miracle could hold them over until their next meal.

As the plates were cleaned and the table cleared, the family that had hosted them all took their wine glasses. The father rose and smiled to their guests as he toasted to the family and their tradition. He gave a small speech about being so thankful for his family and friends like the ones they shared this night with. He then turned to his wife and the rest of his family and ask that everyone at the table give thanks for one thing in their life that they truly felt blessed for having. Each one took their turn, stating things like friends, family, jobs, security, and their mutual love. The father then asked their guests to do the same and received more meager replies like warmth, food, clothes, shelter, and a repeating statement of, “this meal.”

The father gave a hearty chuckle, “Well yes, of course!”

“Can we play the game now?” a small boy near the end of the table squeaked.

“Soon, we have to explain first,” the father replied.

The boy plopped in the mother’s lap and pouted, “Ok.”

“You see my friends, we have one more family tradition,” the father stepped to Benjamin and patted him on the shoulder, “It was Benjamin’s idea when he was younger and we have enjoyed it ever since.”

“Now that you are full and rested in your seats we are going to play a game,” Benjamin said while standing.

“Yes, the person who brought you will give you a choice and you must make it,” the mother said sweetly.

Nick had always liked party games and shifted in his seat a bit to see what this one would be. Benjamin rounded Nick’s chair and leaned down with that same smile. The rest of the family stood as well and stood by their guest. Nick listened intently as Benjamin whispered in his ear the choice he would have to make. Nick’s smile quickly faded as he pushed himself away from the table. His body shook as he slowly rose from his chair and looked around the room at all the frightened faces that had just learned the truth. The room almost started to spin at the notion of what he had been asked to do. All of them jumped as the doors around them were bolted shut and the younger guests began to cry for help.

“Yes, that’s right,” said the father, “You must either kill yourself or everyone else, those are the only two ways you are leaving this room.”

Benjamin placed a pocket knife in Nick’s quivering hand, “Good luck.”

The family disappeared out the remaining open door as the homeless inhabitants attempted to flee. They were shoved back by guards armed with sub-machine guns and instructed to remain in the room. Their only means of escape was slammed shut and the sound of clanking metal signified their entrapment. Nick stared around the room at half a dozen men, four women, and two children that could not have been older that fifteen. Each of them had been handed some sort of weapon, mainly pipes and chains. Nick seemed to be the only one to wield a knife and he hoped that would give him an advantage. He did not want to kill anyone but he wasn’t ready to die either. 