{"id":10653,"date":"2026-05-30T16:07:27","date_gmt":"2026-05-30T21:07:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/?p=10653"},"modified":"2026-05-30T16:07:28","modified_gmt":"2026-05-30T21:07:28","slug":"squatters-and-vagabonds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/squatters-and-vagabonds\/","title":{"rendered":"Squatters and Vagabonds"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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By Patricia Crisafulli<\/strong><\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

June 1971<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The start of summer vacation meant bursting out of the back door, through fields of high grass and into deep stands of trees with heavy limbs and craggy bark. The Woods,<\/em> said with reverence that implied capital letters, spread its canopy of native hemlocks, maples, beeches, and oaks. Two-hundred-year-old stone walls did nothing to deter the three children, a sister and two brothers stair-stepped at ages eleven, nine, and seven. They wandered from what had been their great-grandfather\u2019s farm to neighboring land, knowing they would always be forgiven their trespasses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah, the oldest, wanted to make a map, but Jimmy, in the middle, could not wait so long. He snatched the paper and scattered the colored pencils. His sister gave chase, and the screen door slapped the frame. Johnny, the youngest, plodded behind, whining for them to wait, that he couldn\u2019t keep up, that he\u2019d tell Mom if they left him. Ignoring their little brother, Sarah and Jimmy jostled each other to lead the way, skirting the blackberry thicket and windmilling their arms against clouds of mosquitoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Reaching The Woods, they slowed their pace, knowing they were beyond shouting distance from the house, where their mother cleaned the same six rooms every day and from which their father left for work each morning and returned after supper was already on the table. Sarah scanned the loamy ground for wood violets and tiny mushrooms with caps shaped like a hat an elf might wear. Jimmy wielded a stick like a sword, yelling en garde <\/em>just like he\u2019d heard in a movie once. Johnny dogged their heels, asking where they were going and when they would go home. Jimmy told him to stop being such a baby, Johnny threatened to tell, and Sarah reminded them both that she was in charge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Only when they\u2019d scoured their part of The Woods did they return. Hot, sweaty and thirsty, they sat on the back steps and drank lemonade from tall glasses with glitter flakes in their plastic sides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Their father came home from the factory where he worked as a foreman, which meant he wore a short-sleeved shirt with a collar but no tie. \u201cCan\u2019t you kids find something to do?\u201d he asked, climbing the steps they\u2019d just vacated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, Dad,\u201d they chorused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou can\u2019t just sit around here doing nothing. When I was in the Army, they\u2019d string you up for less.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah headed toward the garden, Jimmy and Johnny in tow. \u201cShell shock,\u201d she whispered, repeating the words she\u2019d heard their mother say once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It was a conversation they hadn\u2019t been meant to overhear, their mother talking to their aunt, something about their father coming back from the Pacific and seeing the enemy behind every tree, even in his own backyard. Their mother was their father\u2019s second wife, they knew, though nobody was supposed to talk about it. She was twelve years younger than he was and spent much of her time cleaning invisible dirt and staying as quiet as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Crouched among the vines in the garden, Jimmy found a tomato that was pink enough to pick. They carried it to the house to ripen on the windowsill, but at the back door they heard their father\u2019s voice, loud and sharp. They left the tomato on the porch railing where it rolled off and got lost in the weeds.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 On Saturday morning, Sarah was sitting at the kitchen table eating Rice Krispies when Jimmy came out of the bedroom he shared with Johnny. They exchanged a glance as their father piled a forkful of eggs onto a triangle of toast and put half of it into his mouth. \u201cSarah, you\u2019re old enough to help around here,\u201d he said, still chewing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Their mother appeared at the table, coffeepot in hand, to refill his cup. \u201cOh, they both weeded yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Their father made a face. \u201cSeems to me Sarah could do that herself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Under the table, Sarah brushed her brother\u2019s leg with her knuckles. \u201cIt was hard,\u201d she said. \u201cSome of the weeds\u2014we had to use the shovel. Jimmy did that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Chair legs scraped as their father stood. \u201cOne of these days, you\u2019re going fishing with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jimmy pulled his napkin off the table and squeezed it into a tight ball of sweat-dampened paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat do you have to say to that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, sir.\u201d Jimmy said. \u201cFishing will be real good.\u201d He took the piece of toast his mother offered, spread thick with strawberry jam just the way he liked it.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They stayed around the house until mid-morning, helping a little, but mostly getting under foot. When their mother said they could go out, Sarah asked if they could bring sandwiches. They made three of them: peanut butter and jelly on store-brand bread that never stayed spongey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Once they reached The Woods, Jimmy headed in a different direction. Sarah grabbed his arm. \u201cWhere\u2019re we going?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSomeplace else.\u201d He pushed on. \u201cI\u2019m tired of where we always go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The Woods thinned from the thick growth of old pines. They crossed the remnants of a rail fence, now weathered and splintered, and entered what had once been farm fields and pastures, now filling with scrub bushes and spindly maples. Gravel scratched under their feet, the lingering hints of what had once been a road or maybe a long driveway. It led to a mound of grapevine and Virginia creeper with a brick chimney poking out of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s a house,\u201d Sarah breathed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaybe it\u2019s haunted,\u201d Jimmy said, curling his fingers into monster hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI wanna go back,\u201d Johnny whined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They skirted lilacs gone feral and hedges that swelled in height and girth. At the front they could make out four broken steps leading up past splintered posts of a front porch. They fanned out, the two older children walking toward opposite compass points with Johnny tagging along behind one, then the other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLook!\u201d Jimmy yelled, and Sarah came running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There, with sumac growing right out of its middle, rested an old car. They snatched at the berry bushes and vines that enveloped the doors and hid most of the roofless interior. Rusty springs sprouted from rotted upholstery, and every bit of glass was gone. But there was a steering wheel, and the children squeezed into the front, jostling for a turn in the driver\u2019s seat. Then they ate their sandwiches right there as if they\u2019d made a rest stop along the road.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Every day they gobbled breakfast, raced through their chores, plucked weeds out of two rows in the garden, slapped together peanut butter sandwiches, and promised to be back by dinner. No more wandering; they had a destination, which they reached before the sun stood directly overhead. Jimmy carried an knapsack, refusing to say what was inside, until they reached the old house where he produced a pair of garden clippers. They fought over who got to use them, but after twenty minutes of chopping away vines, Jimmy relinquished them to Sarah. They cleared the front, gingerly climbed the steps, and shouldered open the front door, letting out the acrid stench of rot and mouse droppings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cDare you to go inside,\u201d Jimmy said, pushing Sarah a half-step forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            She crossed the threshold into what had once been a parlor, the floral wallpaper faded into faint stabs of color. Jimmy followed close behind, Johnny hanging on to the bottom of his T-shirt. Something scrabbled overhead, and they reversed course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Beyond the house, they found a pile of boards, a broken window, and two bald tires. Jimmy wanted to bring one of them home for a tire swing, but Sarah argued that their father would ask where they got it. \u201cJust tell him we found it,\u201d Jimmy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A twig snapped behind them. Sarah turned first, her widening eyes telegraphing trouble. Jimmy gripped Johnny\u2019s arm and pulled him back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman wore a long, faded granny dress; her shoulder-length brown hair was mussed and matted. The man in jeans and a stained shirt scratched at his full beard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHippies,\u201d Jimmy whispered. These were people their father had warned them about in the same tone of voice he used for Communists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah held out the paper sack, the top bunched from being carried in sweaty hands. \u201cWe have sandwiches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman came closer. \u201cThank you.\u201d She smiled, showing crooked teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The three children sat on the ground, watching the two adults eat as if they hadn\u2019t had a meal in a long time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m hungry,\u201d Johnny complained, and Sarah told him to shush.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman pushed her hair out of her eyes. \u201cYou live around here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah said yes and Jimmy said no, their answers colliding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The man huffed out a laugh. \u201cWell, close enough. You know who owns this land?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The children shook their heads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou gonna tell if we camp here a while?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They shook their heads more vigorously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Then Sarah scuffed her Keds against the ground and rose to her feet. \u201cWe gotta go now. Our mother wants us to do something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSee ya,\u201d Jimmy said and grabbed Johnny by the hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They said nothing until they reached the stone wall and reentered familiar land. \u201cThey were squatters,\u201d Jimmy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhat\u2019s a squatter?\u201d Johnny asked, crouching on the ground as if his body now defined the word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSomebody that lives where they shouldn\u2019t,\u201d Jimmy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cNo, they\u2019re like\u2014vagabonds.\u201d Sarah savored one of the big words she liked finding in books.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Two days later, they sat outside, debating where they should go. They hadn\u2019t told their parents about what they\u2019d seen and who they\u2019d met, knowing that would only lead to their mother\u2019s worry and their father\u2019s lecture or worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThey seemed nice,\u201d Sarah said. \u201cThey said they were just camping.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Jimmy made a face. \u201cDad would skin us if he found out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Johnny picked a small stone out of the ground and tossed it into the grass. \u201cI wanna play with the car.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            It was decided, and they made five sandwiches instead of three when their mother wasn\u2019t looking and added a handful of Oreos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They headed straight for the house and searched the overgrown yard for signs of the couple. \u201cWe can leave their sandwiches in case they come back,\u201d Sarah said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            So, they left soggy peanut butter and Jelly and three Oreos in a paper bag in front of the house. They sat in the old car, which after several days had lost its attraction. Johnny climbed out first, wandering through the tall grass, singing to himself. Sarah and Jimmy stayed in the front seat, their hands off the wheel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t want to go fishing,\u201d Jimmy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah looked at him, squinting her confusion, until she said, \u201cOh, Dad. Maybe it won\u2019t be bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t want to kill things,\u201d Jimmy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou eat chicken. And hamburger,\u201d Sarah replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s different. Comes from a store. I don\u2019t think about it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThey\u2019re just fish. It\u2019s not like\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A piercing scream cut through the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They ran toward the sound, finding Johnny on the ground. Blood spurted out of his thigh, coating the bottom of his shorts and running down the side of his calf to his socks now rimmed in red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat d\u2019you do?\u201d Jimmy yelled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah pointed to a spike coming out of the ground. \u201cHe must have fallen on that.\u201d She tried to pick up Johnny, but he writhed and she dropped him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just then, long arms reached for Johnny, scooping him up from the ground. The man held him while the woman took a bandanna out of her hair and tied it around the boy\u2019s leg, just above the wound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah and Jimmy headed the way they\u2019d come, but the man started in the other direction. \u201cThis way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A half hour later, standing on the shoulder of a country road, Jimmy waved his arms at a car that sped past without a flicker of brake lights. Sarah took off down the pavement, saying she\u2019d find a house someplace. Before long, she returned in the front seat of a car driven by a woman with two children in the back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The driver\u2019s eyes widened. \u201cNow look here, I don\u2019t have room for all of you,\u201d she sputtered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The man holding Johnny loaded the boy onto Sarah\u2019s lap. \u201cYou kids\u2019ll be all right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman reached around, touched Johnny\u2019s cheek. \u201cBe brave little man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n

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Present Day<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Jonathan poured white wine from the vineyard he had just bought, an indulgence paid for with stock options from the tech company he co-founded. \u201cI still have the scar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah held up her glass, admiring the hint of peach within the golden liquid. \u201cWith your money you could get it removed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAnd lose my badge of honor from childhood?\u201d Jonathan smirked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            James cast a glance across the expansive deck that wrapped around two-thirds Jonathan\u2019s house, which could easily be called an estate. His partner was engrossed in conversation with Sarah\u2019s husband. \u201cWhat surprises me is that we never told. Not a word to the police. Not mom, certainly not dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cHe would have gone into those woods with a flamethrower.\u201d Sarah exaggerated a shudder. \u201cWe never went back to that old house. Never thanked them for what they did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Jonathan took a deep sip of the wine. \u201cDid I ever show you the new label?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah smiled, glad they could all be together for the launch of Johnny\u2019s vineyard. Although scattered across the country, they made an effort to stay connected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cLet me guess\u2014the label is a self-portrait,\u201d James teased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Jonathan reached for a portfolio and laid several designs across the table. A profusion of vines coiled out to the edge of the label. In the center was a black-and-white sketch: a rundown house, a chimney poking out of the overgrowth, and in the trees a hippie version of Adam and Eve half hidden by the foliage. The script read Vagabond Vineyards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou named this place for them?\u201d Sarah said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            James clapped his brother on the shoulder. \u201cYou\u2019re not half the jerk I thought you\u2019d grow up to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Jonathan raised his glass in salute. \u201cSquatter Vineyards didn\u2019t have as nice a ring.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Sarah drew the sketch closer, comparing the drawing of the man and woman with how she remembered them. Close, she decided. Yes, it was very close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Author\u2019s note: The photo originally depicted a warm-up shanty for skiers, enhanced with AI to look like it was covered with vegetation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n
\"Squatter<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Patricia Crisafulli<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":856,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,18],"tags":[170,25],"class_list":["post-10653","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-original-online-fiction","category-patricia-crisafulli","tag-fiction","tag-short-story"],"yoast_head":"\nSquatters and Vagabonds | Faith Hope & Fiction<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/squatters-and-vagabonds\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" 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