Servo 5:1
Servo 5:1
The next day, Grandpa took us into town. He made a stop by a bank and drew out some money. His intentions were to purchase new clothes for us so we looked a little less like Inner States kids. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with our clothes, and the ones he bought for us were very uncomfortable. Suz was absolutely appalled by her options for dress. She moaned, groaned, and grumbled the entire time. I at least scored the proper power cord to charge our tablets. Once back home, I attempted to put on the foreign clothes. The blue jeans were stiff and rough against my skin. And the plaid shirt Grandpa selected was short sleeved and had little pearl colored buttons that I had a hard time fastening. Honestly I thought I looked absurd. Why did we have to blend in? Why was it so important to strip us of our identities? None of us wanted to be here, so why were we being forced to change?I sat on the front porch gazing out over the dusty landscape. A wire fence stretched into the distance, dry weeds were snarled in parts of it. There was no greenery. If Grandpa was a farmer, he sure wasn’t growing much more than dirt and weeds. How could he make a living here? Rory wandered out. He was dressed in our usual clothes. “Jonah?”“Yeah?”“How can you wear that stuff?”“I don’t know. I figured I’d give it a try.”“How does it feel?”I scratched my right thigh. “Itchy.”“Grandma said it will get better after the clothes are washed a few times.”“What’s Suz up to?”Rory plopped down in a white wicker chair. “Crying.”“Oh.”“I don’t think she’s going to survive this.”“She will. It’ll take time.”“Your tablet was charged, so I plugged mine in.”“That’s fine,” I said.“What are you going to use yours for?”“Listening to Dad.”“What?” Rory leaned forward slightly. “What do you mean?”“I took all the data sticks from his office…I miss him terribly.”“So do I.”“It was the only way I could think of keeping his memory alive.”“Would you share some with me?”“Yes, yes, of course, Rory.” I stood and walked around, the denim material chaffing my skin. “I’ll happily share with you.”“Do you think Dad was murdered?”Rory’s comment floored me. I’d figured that he’d have accepted what the police told us. This caught me completely off guard. “Why would you say that?”“Don’t you think so? It seems fishy.”I approached him, bent over, and rested my hands on the arms of the chair; my face only a few inches from his. “I do indeed.”“Why didn’t you say anything?”“Because I’m still not sure, but I have a gut feeling.”“Me too.” I drew away, choosing to stare into the distance again. “So what are we going to do?”Rory shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno.”“I wonder if there might be clues in those data sticks on why Dad was killed.”“I wish he would come back. I miss him; I miss Mom.”“We all do.”
“I want to go home.”
The next day, Grandpa took us into town. He made a stop by a bank and drew out some money. His intentions were to purchase new clothes for us so we looked a little less like Inner States kids. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with our clothes, and the ones he bought for us were very uncomfortable. Suz was absolutely appalled by her options for dress. She moaned, groaned, and grumbled the entire time. I at least scored the proper power cord to charge our tablets. Once back home, I attempted to put on the foreign clothes. The blue jeans were stiff and rough against my skin. And the plaid shirt Grandpa selected was short sleeved and had little pearl colored buttons that I had a hard time fastening. Honestly I thought I looked absurd. Why did we have to blend in? Why was it so important to strip us of our identities? None of us wanted to be here, so why were we being forced to change?I sat on the front porch gazing out over the dusty landscape. A wire fence stretched into the distance, dry weeds were snarled in parts of it. There was no greenery. If Grandpa was a farmer, he sure wasn’t growing much more than dirt and weeds. How could he make a living here? Rory wandered out. He was dressed in our usual clothes. “Jonah?”“Yeah?”“How can you wear that stuff?”“I don’t know. I figured I’d give it a try.”“How does it feel?”I scratched my right thigh. “Itchy.”“Grandma said it will get better after the clothes are washed a few times.”“What’s Suz up to?”Rory plopped down in a white wicker chair. “Crying.”“Oh.”“I don’t think she’s going to survive this.”“She will. It’ll take time.”“Your tablet was charged, so I plugged mine in.”“That’s fine,” I said.“What are you going to use yours for?”“Listening to Dad.”“What?” Rory leaned forward slightly. “What do you mean?”“I took all the data sticks from his office…I miss him terribly.”“So do I.”“It was the only way I could think of keeping his memory alive.”“Would you share some with me?”“Yes, yes, of course, Rory.” I stood and walked around, the denim material chaffing my skin. “I’ll happily share with you.”“Do you think Dad was murdered?”Rory’s comment floored me. I’d figured that he’d have accepted what the police told us. This caught me completely off guard. “Why would you say that?”“Don’t you think so? It seems fishy.”I approached him, bent over, and rested my hands on the arms of the chair; my face only a few inches from his. “I do indeed.”“Why didn’t you say anything?”“Because I’m still not sure, but I have a gut feeling.”“Me too.” I drew away, choosing to stare into the distance again. “So what are we going to do?”Rory shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno.”“I wonder if there might be clues in those data sticks on why Dad was killed.”“I wish he would come back. I miss him; I miss Mom.”“We all do.”
“I want to go home.”
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