Servo 8:2
Servo 8:2
The next morning was bright and beautiful. One would never guess the hell that was visited upon us the previous evening. I awoke to the sun seeping through the lacy curtains. Throwing off the covers, I hopped out of bed and went to the window. The alarm clock would be sounding in a couple minutes. As I pulled back the curtain, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Behind the house used to stand a massive old tree. I wasn’t sure what kind it was, but now it lay in a tangled heap of twisted brown and green. There were tree limbs from kinds of trees I didn’t think grew on the property, and debris everywhere. What on Earth happened? Had there been a tornado? Pieces of wood and metal were strewn about. Panic overwhelmed me. Had the barn been hit? Was our dear, precious bot scattered over several counties? I felt a sinking feeling. Squinting my eyes some, I tried to scan the area for anything gold-colored. Nothing immediately stood out. I decided to go downstairs and take a look out the front window. That would give me proof-positive of the barn’s demise. I grabbed my thin dark blue robe from the bedpost and slid into it. Since the weather was fairly warm, I’d gone to sleeping in nothing but a pair of soft shorts. Rory opted for the same. I slipped out the door just before the alarm commenced its morning annoyance. Once downstairs, I crept to the window and parted the curtains. To my grand relief, the barn still stood. The roof on the side by the doors had taken some damage, a couple sheets of tin had peeled up. I figured that by day’s end Grandpa would have it fixed. A faint sigh escaped me as I turned to go upstairs. Our bot was still there. It may take us years to get it running again, but at least the storm spared it. As I trudged up the steps, the door to our room opened and Rory staggered out, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked.“Did you look out the window?”“No.”“The storm made a huge mess.”“So?”“I thought maybe a tornado went through. I was just checking to see if the barn was still standing.”Rory’s mouth opened slightly. No words came out.“It has some damage, but I think the bot is fine.” I nudged my way past him in order to get dressed for school.“Things like that would never happen back home,” he said, joining me in the morning ritual of figuring out what to wear. In the Inner States, it was easy: just put on a clean uniform and you’re ready to go. This picking and choosing was proving to be annoying. It was one thing I agreed on with Suz. So far my dear sister had done everything in her power to make as many enemies as possible. Her stunt with Grandpa last night just confirmed that. As to why she had so much hatred of this place, I’ll never know. Perhaps it was the immediate yanking away from everything she knew and felt comfortable with that turned her sour, I can’t be sure. As for me and Rory, we’re trying our best to make it work. We don’t have any other choice; this is home now.After dressing, we went down for breakfast. Grandma was at her usual place tending food that was sizzling on the stove. “Good morning, children,” she said in an upbeat tone. “Did you get any sleep last night?”“Some,” I replied. “Did a tornado go through?”Grandma flipped a couple of pancakes before answering. “Not sure, but looks like it.”“Which way did it go?” Rory asked as he slid into his chair.“I don’t know.”“Do you think people died?”“That’s always a possibility.” She removed the pancakes to a plate and brought them to the table. “I don’t recall hearing the sirens last night.” Grandpa came in followed by Suz. She looked a bit on the ragged side. I guess she didn’t sleep too well in the storm. “Good morning, Suzette,” Grandma said, pouring juice in glasses.“Uh, yeah.” Suz plopped down.“Hey, Suz, Grandma thinks a tornado went through last night,” Rory said.“Oh, great,” she replied, yawning. Grandpa took his seat at the head of the table. “I see the barn got damaged. Heck of a storm. Wonder how much rain we got?”“They need rain here, right? The farmers need rain?” Rory picked up his glass and took a sip. “Things don’t grow without it.”“No, they don’t…I’ve been trying to grow corn here for two years. Tried soybeans for two years before that…Nothing!”“Don’t they have irrigation here?” Suz said in an irritatingly snide tone. “That solves all the water problems.”“It would solve mine, except there’s no water under my land. We tried for years to sink wells and nothing came of it.” Grandpa took a piece of toast and buttered it. “Way back in the early twenty-first century, the aquifer here went dry. They thought the rains would refill it, but they haven’t.”“Who is they?”“Scientists, of course.”“Evidently they were wrong.”“Yes.”“So why did you buy this farm if you knew there was no water?”“I bought it because the land and the house spoke to me.”Suz raised an eyebrow. “Spoke to you? How absurd!”“We were reassured that over time the aquifer would refill.”“But it hasn’t.”“Not that we can see.”“So all you can do is rely on the rain, which is hasn’t done much of.”Grandpa slowly nodded. It seemed that he didn’t want to continue this conversation. “So, Jonah, you’re friends with Dagwood?”“Yeah, kinda,” I replied.“He’s a good boy…Not exactly the most brilliant soul, but he’s a fine young farmer. I think he’ll follow in his Daddy’s footsteps.”“So what are they growing?”“Something called switchgrass.”“To make hay out of?”“No, they sell it to make fuel—biofuel.”“Oh, the stuff our vehicles runs on,” Suz added.“Exactly. And if I weren’t so darn stubborn, I suppose I could plant it as well.”“Why are you stubborn?”“Because corn still pays better.”“It doesn’t pay anything if you can’t grow it.” “Thank you, Suzette, I’m well aware of that. But it’s getting too late in the season to plow the corn under and start over. Maybe this storm is just the first of many. We need the rain badly.”
The next morning was bright and beautiful. One would never guess the hell that was visited upon us the previous evening. I awoke to the sun seeping through the lacy curtains. Throwing off the covers, I hopped out of bed and went to the window. The alarm clock would be sounding in a couple minutes. As I pulled back the curtain, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Behind the house used to stand a massive old tree. I wasn’t sure what kind it was, but now it lay in a tangled heap of twisted brown and green. There were tree limbs from kinds of trees I didn’t think grew on the property, and debris everywhere. What on Earth happened? Had there been a tornado? Pieces of wood and metal were strewn about. Panic overwhelmed me. Had the barn been hit? Was our dear, precious bot scattered over several counties? I felt a sinking feeling. Squinting my eyes some, I tried to scan the area for anything gold-colored. Nothing immediately stood out. I decided to go downstairs and take a look out the front window. That would give me proof-positive of the barn’s demise. I grabbed my thin dark blue robe from the bedpost and slid into it. Since the weather was fairly warm, I’d gone to sleeping in nothing but a pair of soft shorts. Rory opted for the same. I slipped out the door just before the alarm commenced its morning annoyance. Once downstairs, I crept to the window and parted the curtains. To my grand relief, the barn still stood. The roof on the side by the doors had taken some damage, a couple sheets of tin had peeled up. I figured that by day’s end Grandpa would have it fixed. A faint sigh escaped me as I turned to go upstairs. Our bot was still there. It may take us years to get it running again, but at least the storm spared it. As I trudged up the steps, the door to our room opened and Rory staggered out, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked.“Did you look out the window?”“No.”“The storm made a huge mess.”“So?”“I thought maybe a tornado went through. I was just checking to see if the barn was still standing.”Rory’s mouth opened slightly. No words came out.“It has some damage, but I think the bot is fine.” I nudged my way past him in order to get dressed for school.“Things like that would never happen back home,” he said, joining me in the morning ritual of figuring out what to wear. In the Inner States, it was easy: just put on a clean uniform and you’re ready to go. This picking and choosing was proving to be annoying. It was one thing I agreed on with Suz. So far my dear sister had done everything in her power to make as many enemies as possible. Her stunt with Grandpa last night just confirmed that. As to why she had so much hatred of this place, I’ll never know. Perhaps it was the immediate yanking away from everything she knew and felt comfortable with that turned her sour, I can’t be sure. As for me and Rory, we’re trying our best to make it work. We don’t have any other choice; this is home now.After dressing, we went down for breakfast. Grandma was at her usual place tending food that was sizzling on the stove. “Good morning, children,” she said in an upbeat tone. “Did you get any sleep last night?”“Some,” I replied. “Did a tornado go through?”Grandma flipped a couple of pancakes before answering. “Not sure, but looks like it.”“Which way did it go?” Rory asked as he slid into his chair.“I don’t know.”“Do you think people died?”“That’s always a possibility.” She removed the pancakes to a plate and brought them to the table. “I don’t recall hearing the sirens last night.” Grandpa came in followed by Suz. She looked a bit on the ragged side. I guess she didn’t sleep too well in the storm. “Good morning, Suzette,” Grandma said, pouring juice in glasses.“Uh, yeah.” Suz plopped down.“Hey, Suz, Grandma thinks a tornado went through last night,” Rory said.“Oh, great,” she replied, yawning. Grandpa took his seat at the head of the table. “I see the barn got damaged. Heck of a storm. Wonder how much rain we got?”“They need rain here, right? The farmers need rain?” Rory picked up his glass and took a sip. “Things don’t grow without it.”“No, they don’t…I’ve been trying to grow corn here for two years. Tried soybeans for two years before that…Nothing!”“Don’t they have irrigation here?” Suz said in an irritatingly snide tone. “That solves all the water problems.”“It would solve mine, except there’s no water under my land. We tried for years to sink wells and nothing came of it.” Grandpa took a piece of toast and buttered it. “Way back in the early twenty-first century, the aquifer here went dry. They thought the rains would refill it, but they haven’t.”“Who is they?”“Scientists, of course.”“Evidently they were wrong.”“Yes.”“So why did you buy this farm if you knew there was no water?”“I bought it because the land and the house spoke to me.”Suz raised an eyebrow. “Spoke to you? How absurd!”“We were reassured that over time the aquifer would refill.”“But it hasn’t.”“Not that we can see.”“So all you can do is rely on the rain, which is hasn’t done much of.”Grandpa slowly nodded. It seemed that he didn’t want to continue this conversation. “So, Jonah, you’re friends with Dagwood?”“Yeah, kinda,” I replied.“He’s a good boy…Not exactly the most brilliant soul, but he’s a fine young farmer. I think he’ll follow in his Daddy’s footsteps.”“So what are they growing?”“Something called switchgrass.”“To make hay out of?”“No, they sell it to make fuel—biofuel.”“Oh, the stuff our vehicles runs on,” Suz added.“Exactly. And if I weren’t so darn stubborn, I suppose I could plant it as well.”“Why are you stubborn?”“Because corn still pays better.”“It doesn’t pay anything if you can’t grow it.” “Thank you, Suzette, I’m well aware of that. But it’s getting too late in the season to plow the corn under and start over. Maybe this storm is just the first of many. We need the rain badly.”
No comments have been added yet.
