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The Boy with a Thousand Arms

Hunter Morrison



J Z Morrison Press on Smashwords

The Boy with a Thousand Arms
© 2013 by Hunter Morrison
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The Boy with a Thousand Arms

My mother used to trade me off to my uncle on the train. He'd meet the north bound train at the station, my mother would get off, me in my stroller, and they'd change drivers, just like relay runners passing on the baton.

After a kiss and a “I love you, Charles”, Mom would get back on the train and continue north to work. One day she left me like that and I never saw her again.

I was the mule, of course. Carrying the illegal drug of choice from our little leafy suburb to the Big City. Cocaine, prescription narcotics, weed, meth. Whatever Mom and the other suburban mothers could round up; it was quite a lucrative pool, trade, whatever. A cottage industry.

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