Servo 2:2
Servo 2:2
The truck bumped along a dilapidated road. We seemed to be driving forever. Really, it was only a few miles, but Grandpa wasn’t making any attempt at going much more than forty-five. Finally we turned onto a dirt driveway. Dust rose behind as the truck jostled and rattled. I saw a white two-story house. It was big, square, and had loads of windows. The roof was dark gray and a little of the paint was peeling from the siding. I recall having seen something similar in my history texts when we covered the Great Separation. It called the people who worked the land “farmers” and those who raised animals for consumption, “ranchers.” I wondered what grandpa did. I almost hoped he was a rancher; I’d been curious for some time about the actual processing of animals for human consumption. “All right, kids, here’s home,” Grandpa said, pulling up to the house and shutting off the noisy engine.“I’m not going to live here,” Suz protested. “It’s horrible!”Grandpa swiveled around partway in his seat so he was looking back at her. “I’m sorry this is not to your standards, but this is where you will be living.”I glanced back and saw the expression on her face; she was nearing tantrum stage. “Suz, we don’t have a choice. How about just accepting it?”“NO!” she screamed. “I will not!”Without another word, Grandpa snatched the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the truck. He walked to the house and opened the door.“Come on, Rory,” I said, getting out and opening the back door for him. He hopped out, his shiny black shoes landing on the dusty ground and creating a cloud around his ankles. “It’s an old house.”“Yes, it is. Maybe we can find some hidden passages or something.” “Oh, that would be neat.”I knew Rory liked reading mystery books. Perhaps with the age of the house and promise of adventure, it would soften the blow to him somewhat; I could only hope. As for Suz, I had no idea on how to gain her acceptance of the situation. Time might mellow her somewhat.
When we first entered the ancient looking farm house, I immediately saw disdain on Suzette and Rory’s faces. They are neat freaks, terribly so, and I knew this would not suit them. A thick layer of dust lay on just about everything. For the most part, the contents of the house seemed in their place. There was no dirty laundry strewn about, no leftover dishes scattered on tables and floor. The place was just old. My nose picked up the musty odor of age. I’d never smelled it before, but I knew what it was. Light filtered in through dusty windows giving the entire place a sepia tone. Someone might have mistaken it for warmth, but this old house was far from it. Perhaps we would find that warmth. Maybe it would be in Grandpa’s smile, or a hot meal, or maybe even seeing the sun rising each morning. I wasn’t sure. This was home now and I needed to figure out how to make the best of it.We were met by Grandma Cranwinkle. She looked nearly as ancient as Grandpa. She wore a blue floral printed dress and a white lacy apron was tied around her waist. It definitely reminded me of an image I’d seen in the school texts. Her hair was grayish-blue and hung in large curls about her head.“Hello, children,” she said in a melodious tone. I’m sure she was trying to exude as much warmth as possible in this austere environment.“Hello, Grandma,” I said. It was impossible to hide the discomfort in my voice.“Ah, you must be Jonah.”I nodded.“You look so much like your father.”“I do?”“Yes, you have so many of his facial features…And those beautiful blue eyes.”“Oh,” was all I could manage.“Grandma, where’s your service bots?” asked Rory.The old woman brought the tips of her fingers together in front of her chest and pressed them into a steeple form. “You must be Rory.”“Yes.” He looked around. “Where are your bots?”“Oh, no, we don’t have those here.”“Well who does the cleaning? The cooking?” he insisted.“I do, child.”I watched Rory’s eyebrows go up.“You cook?”“Yes. This is my house. I don’t live in privileged society as you did. I suppose if I really wanted, I could get Abe to build me one. But truly, I’m happy doing the work myself.”Suzette decided to throw her weight into the conversation. “Who’s going to do our laundry?”Grandma regarded Suz, ever so slightly cocking her head and working a smile onto her aged lips. “I’ll teach you.” Imagine the total amusement that rocketed through me as I watched Suz’s jaw drop almost to the floor. My dear sister, the one with an IQ of 195, was now going to have to deal with housework. I wanted so badly to laugh. Of course I knew there were going to be demands made of me. Being the middle child, I always seemed more flexible to change than the others. In a way, I suppose I was ready to have my eyes opened to the world. Maybe this would help me grow up. My only fear was would I ever return to the Inner States? If I was going to follow the dream of picking up my father’s work, I had to go back.
The truck bumped along a dilapidated road. We seemed to be driving forever. Really, it was only a few miles, but Grandpa wasn’t making any attempt at going much more than forty-five. Finally we turned onto a dirt driveway. Dust rose behind as the truck jostled and rattled. I saw a white two-story house. It was big, square, and had loads of windows. The roof was dark gray and a little of the paint was peeling from the siding. I recall having seen something similar in my history texts when we covered the Great Separation. It called the people who worked the land “farmers” and those who raised animals for consumption, “ranchers.” I wondered what grandpa did. I almost hoped he was a rancher; I’d been curious for some time about the actual processing of animals for human consumption. “All right, kids, here’s home,” Grandpa said, pulling up to the house and shutting off the noisy engine.“I’m not going to live here,” Suz protested. “It’s horrible!”Grandpa swiveled around partway in his seat so he was looking back at her. “I’m sorry this is not to your standards, but this is where you will be living.”I glanced back and saw the expression on her face; she was nearing tantrum stage. “Suz, we don’t have a choice. How about just accepting it?”“NO!” she screamed. “I will not!”Without another word, Grandpa snatched the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the truck. He walked to the house and opened the door.“Come on, Rory,” I said, getting out and opening the back door for him. He hopped out, his shiny black shoes landing on the dusty ground and creating a cloud around his ankles. “It’s an old house.”“Yes, it is. Maybe we can find some hidden passages or something.” “Oh, that would be neat.”I knew Rory liked reading mystery books. Perhaps with the age of the house and promise of adventure, it would soften the blow to him somewhat; I could only hope. As for Suz, I had no idea on how to gain her acceptance of the situation. Time might mellow her somewhat.
When we first entered the ancient looking farm house, I immediately saw disdain on Suzette and Rory’s faces. They are neat freaks, terribly so, and I knew this would not suit them. A thick layer of dust lay on just about everything. For the most part, the contents of the house seemed in their place. There was no dirty laundry strewn about, no leftover dishes scattered on tables and floor. The place was just old. My nose picked up the musty odor of age. I’d never smelled it before, but I knew what it was. Light filtered in through dusty windows giving the entire place a sepia tone. Someone might have mistaken it for warmth, but this old house was far from it. Perhaps we would find that warmth. Maybe it would be in Grandpa’s smile, or a hot meal, or maybe even seeing the sun rising each morning. I wasn’t sure. This was home now and I needed to figure out how to make the best of it.We were met by Grandma Cranwinkle. She looked nearly as ancient as Grandpa. She wore a blue floral printed dress and a white lacy apron was tied around her waist. It definitely reminded me of an image I’d seen in the school texts. Her hair was grayish-blue and hung in large curls about her head.“Hello, children,” she said in a melodious tone. I’m sure she was trying to exude as much warmth as possible in this austere environment.“Hello, Grandma,” I said. It was impossible to hide the discomfort in my voice.“Ah, you must be Jonah.”I nodded.“You look so much like your father.”“I do?”“Yes, you have so many of his facial features…And those beautiful blue eyes.”“Oh,” was all I could manage.“Grandma, where’s your service bots?” asked Rory.The old woman brought the tips of her fingers together in front of her chest and pressed them into a steeple form. “You must be Rory.”“Yes.” He looked around. “Where are your bots?”“Oh, no, we don’t have those here.”“Well who does the cleaning? The cooking?” he insisted.“I do, child.”I watched Rory’s eyebrows go up.“You cook?”“Yes. This is my house. I don’t live in privileged society as you did. I suppose if I really wanted, I could get Abe to build me one. But truly, I’m happy doing the work myself.”Suzette decided to throw her weight into the conversation. “Who’s going to do our laundry?”Grandma regarded Suz, ever so slightly cocking her head and working a smile onto her aged lips. “I’ll teach you.” Imagine the total amusement that rocketed through me as I watched Suz’s jaw drop almost to the floor. My dear sister, the one with an IQ of 195, was now going to have to deal with housework. I wanted so badly to laugh. Of course I knew there were going to be demands made of me. Being the middle child, I always seemed more flexible to change than the others. In a way, I suppose I was ready to have my eyes opened to the world. Maybe this would help me grow up. My only fear was would I ever return to the Inner States? If I was going to follow the dream of picking up my father’s work, I had to go back.
No comments have been added yet.
