Biting the Hand That Feeds You
For such a high tone New England town Bentley had a few problems. The town Fathers turned a blind eye to up the hill away from the waterfront where all the money was. This was the part of town where the mills had been. After shipping money dwindled, the mills came with their sizable immigrant populations to work in them. First it might be French, then Irish or Polish, then the Portuguese. It was the same all over New England. Each group came to work in the mills churning out cloth or rubber shoes or metal parts of things. Each wave left it's imprint on the town. Then manufacturing moved South and left the empty mills behind.
There was a long span of emptiness before the condo craze came along. The glass windows got broken, pipes froze, doors got pushed in. But Bentley was too busy turning the waterfront upscale to be worried about the old mills. Tourists and condo dwellers never went east of Woodlawn St.
One cluster of buildings had fallen particularly far into disrepair and because of it's easy accessibility it was no longer vacant. Homeless people had discovered it and moved in. Not enough of a population to even be noticeable. There were no houses right nearby. Nobody wanted to live near the mills. Besides once they got in they could go way back away from the street side, through the maze of rooms to the very back. There weren't as many broken windows there and it was warmer. Plus people didn't see the barrel fires so they could fix something to eat and then roll up in their blankets and sleep. Pretty good.
Those hiding out there didn't know that they were not alone.
There was another problem that Bentley tended to ignore. It's ever growing number of feral cats. Not the polite kind of pampered house pet, but in many cases their off spring. Summer people and kids from the college had a habit of getting a cat and then leaving it behind after the season or after graduation. With no one to care for them, they reverted to their feral nature and learned to take care of themselves. Not being "fixed" they multiplied greatly and Bentley had numerous colonies all throughout town. The colonies ranged anywhere from 5 or 6 members to 20 or 30. It's a hard life and the average age span was around five years. Those in the neighborhood of the abandoned mills moved inside after the local teenagers broke out the windows with their baseball bats. Life was a little easier then.
At least they had shelter from the elements and a nice old lady who lived down the road religiously came morning and night with tin pie plates of food for them. They started living longer. Their numbers grew. Pretty good.
When the homeless people came they hid. And watched. After the people fell asleep the cats would creep out of their hiding places and eat whatever scraps of food were left. Little by little they grew bolder and once in a while they would show themselves. Being basically soft hearted, the homeless people took to sharing their food with them. This went on through the fall. Once in a while someone would even wake in the night to find a cat or two curled up next to them sleeping. Some of their kittens became quite tame and were good company. Everyone was reasonably fat and happy.
Then winter set in. It was a bad one. The temperature dropped low early in the season and stayed there. Most of the homeless people stopped riding the bus out from the city and stayed the winter in the city shelters. They didn't have as much freedom but it was warmer. Only a couple of the old die hards vowed to hold out up in the mill over winter. They trucked in extra blankets and food and a little something to keep the chill off. But by mid January rations were growing slim. The cats weren't getting enough to eat. They reverted to hiding in the shadows watching.
A couple of Northeasters dumped foot after foot of snow around the mill. Inside supplies had run out except for some mad dog 20-20.
With the Spring came more condo people. The town Fathers decided it was time to expand up the hill- running out of room on the waterfront.
"I think we should get rid of those old mills on Fulton St. and build. More tax money coming in."
A team went up the hill to check out the situation. The town planner and his favorite construction guys. They pulled open a metal door. "GEEZE What a smell!" "What died in here?"
Their question was soon answered. They found the body of an old woman picked clean. Her bony hand was extended nearly touching a rusted metal pie plate.
furthur to the back they found more bones also clean and shiny.
In the shadows some big Toms sat grooming themselves.
"Hmmmmm foods here."
There was a long span of emptiness before the condo craze came along. The glass windows got broken, pipes froze, doors got pushed in. But Bentley was too busy turning the waterfront upscale to be worried about the old mills. Tourists and condo dwellers never went east of Woodlawn St.
One cluster of buildings had fallen particularly far into disrepair and because of it's easy accessibility it was no longer vacant. Homeless people had discovered it and moved in. Not enough of a population to even be noticeable. There were no houses right nearby. Nobody wanted to live near the mills. Besides once they got in they could go way back away from the street side, through the maze of rooms to the very back. There weren't as many broken windows there and it was warmer. Plus people didn't see the barrel fires so they could fix something to eat and then roll up in their blankets and sleep. Pretty good.
Those hiding out there didn't know that they were not alone.
There was another problem that Bentley tended to ignore. It's ever growing number of feral cats. Not the polite kind of pampered house pet, but in many cases their off spring. Summer people and kids from the college had a habit of getting a cat and then leaving it behind after the season or after graduation. With no one to care for them, they reverted to their feral nature and learned to take care of themselves. Not being "fixed" they multiplied greatly and Bentley had numerous colonies all throughout town. The colonies ranged anywhere from 5 or 6 members to 20 or 30. It's a hard life and the average age span was around five years. Those in the neighborhood of the abandoned mills moved inside after the local teenagers broke out the windows with their baseball bats. Life was a little easier then.
At least they had shelter from the elements and a nice old lady who lived down the road religiously came morning and night with tin pie plates of food for them. They started living longer. Their numbers grew. Pretty good.
When the homeless people came they hid. And watched. After the people fell asleep the cats would creep out of their hiding places and eat whatever scraps of food were left. Little by little they grew bolder and once in a while they would show themselves. Being basically soft hearted, the homeless people took to sharing their food with them. This went on through the fall. Once in a while someone would even wake in the night to find a cat or two curled up next to them sleeping. Some of their kittens became quite tame and were good company. Everyone was reasonably fat and happy.
Then winter set in. It was a bad one. The temperature dropped low early in the season and stayed there. Most of the homeless people stopped riding the bus out from the city and stayed the winter in the city shelters. They didn't have as much freedom but it was warmer. Only a couple of the old die hards vowed to hold out up in the mill over winter. They trucked in extra blankets and food and a little something to keep the chill off. But by mid January rations were growing slim. The cats weren't getting enough to eat. They reverted to hiding in the shadows watching.
A couple of Northeasters dumped foot after foot of snow around the mill. Inside supplies had run out except for some mad dog 20-20.
With the Spring came more condo people. The town Fathers decided it was time to expand up the hill- running out of room on the waterfront.
"I think we should get rid of those old mills on Fulton St. and build. More tax money coming in."
A team went up the hill to check out the situation. The town planner and his favorite construction guys. They pulled open a metal door. "GEEZE What a smell!" "What died in here?"
Their question was soon answered. They found the body of an old woman picked clean. Her bony hand was extended nearly touching a rusted metal pie plate.
furthur to the back they found more bones also clean and shiny.
In the shadows some big Toms sat grooming themselves.
"Hmmmmm foods here."
posted by minniepeckham at 11:06 AM
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