Servo 9:1
Servo 9:1
Fortunately, Mrs. Graham was in a good mood. The punishment was light, and it only meant I had to stay after school fifteen minutes. Rory and Suz did nothing but tease me about the whole incident. After I served my time, we hurried to the parking lot where Grandpa awaited. He looked a bit agitated. “Sorry, Grandpa, I was late to class after lunch and Mrs. Graham made me stay after school.”He raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Graham?”“Yes.”“Mrs. Tilley Graham?”“Uh, I don’t know her first name, but she’s very old.”“Must be the same Graham. Not many here in Broken Bow.” Grandpa rubbed his whiskered chin. “My God, is she still teaching?”I nodded. “I guess so.”“She taught your mother.”For a moment, my brain was caught in a muddle. From what I was told, Grandma and Grandpa Cranwinkle had lived in the Inner States where he worked at Servidyne. How could Mrs. Graham have taught my mother? “Grandpa?”“Yes?”“How did she teach Mother? Didn’t you live in the Inner States?”“Not everyone wanted to stay after the Great Separation. Eliza—your Grandmother, and I left along with quite a few others. It just so happened that Mrs. Graham left the Inner States and came here…I didn’t realize she was still teaching though.”My mouth fell open slightly. “So she knows what we’ve come from?”Grandpa went to the driver’s side and opened the door. “Yes.”“She never said anything about it.”“Many of us don’t want to.”I climbed into the truck. The ride home was a quiet one. I began to get a good understanding of the people who left after the Great Separation. They wanted to be as far from the Inner States as possible. It seemed like they were ashamed of what we’d become. What was wrong with our world of intelligence, science, and technology? Why would someone want to live in the past? These people had become an enigma to me. Grandpa pulled up to the house and let us out. We tumbled from the truck and hurried up the stairs to the porch. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the barn roof had been repaired. I wondered how much more severe weather we’d be seeing. Prickles ran down my spine as I thought about last night. Imminent death had only been a few dozen yards away. Living in a place like this was not for the faint of heart. Rory opened the door and we went inside. A wonderful aroma hit my nose and my stomach immediately started to growl. I heard Grandma in the kitchen. She was making something sweet, I smelled what I thought might be chocolate. I hoped it would be dessert after one of her fine meals. Dinner last night had been sandwiches because of the storm. Tonight it smelled like she was cooking something fabulous. Tromping up to our room, I put my backpack on the old trunk and commenced changing clothes. Mrs. Graham never gave us much homework, so I’d finished mine during my detention. Rory and Suz hung out in the courtyard, so I doubted they’d done their work. I pulled off my jeans and selected a pair that had been grease stained when I brushed by the tractor one day. Grandma said the stain would eventually wear out, but to keep these jeans for play. I’m not exactly sure what she meant by that; play in my terms consisted of networking our tablets together and attempting to access the Inner States informational databases. I was informed that in the past the action was called hacking. We just thought it was good fun to see how many times it took to break the main system computer’s password. For the most part, we weren’t interested in what the database held, just the password. We had to quit, however, when the Information Ministry installed software that registered any computer that tried to gain access. So much for our fun and games. Rory came in and dropped his bag on the bed. “Have you done your homework?”“Yeah. Why didn’t you while I was in detention?”“I was hanging out with Suz.”“So? You both could have had it done. There wasn’t much.”“Dagwood’s coming over, right?”“Yeah, he should be here anytime.”“And you’re going to show him the bot?”“That was my plan.”“Think he’s even smart enough to understand it?”“Rather irrelevant, don’t you think?”“So why show it to him at all?”“Because maybe I think it’s nice to finally have a friend. You don’t seem to be making a concerted effort.”“I’m trying. But the kids laugh at me.”“Why?”“Because I’m what they call a nerd.”“Nerd? What’s that mean?”“Evidently some kid that’s too smart for their own good.”“Maybe you should act dumber.”Rory punched me in the arm. “No way!”“Ow!” I retaliated, giving him a solid jab. “Maybe you shouldn’t act like you’re better than them.”“Why? You do.”“Not really…I think we’re going to have problems for a while. The kids here have never seen or been around GEE kids. They don’t realize we’re kids like them.”“I case you haven’t noticed, those kids think that playing in a dirt puddle is fun. They throw rocks into the pond, ride bicycles up and down dirt roads, and play in something called a corn silo. They have no understanding of our idea of play.”“Maybe we should learn their kind of play.”Rory dumped his school tablet out of the bag. “I don’t like getting dirty.”“No, that’s right, you don’t. Perhaps there’s some kind of clean activities we could do to fit in.”“Doubt it. Just look at this place: filth everywhere.”“It’s not that bad.”“Yes it is.” I ignored him in favor of picking up one of the books, cracking it open, and reading.
Fortunately, Mrs. Graham was in a good mood. The punishment was light, and it only meant I had to stay after school fifteen minutes. Rory and Suz did nothing but tease me about the whole incident. After I served my time, we hurried to the parking lot where Grandpa awaited. He looked a bit agitated. “Sorry, Grandpa, I was late to class after lunch and Mrs. Graham made me stay after school.”He raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Graham?”“Yes.”“Mrs. Tilley Graham?”“Uh, I don’t know her first name, but she’s very old.”“Must be the same Graham. Not many here in Broken Bow.” Grandpa rubbed his whiskered chin. “My God, is she still teaching?”I nodded. “I guess so.”“She taught your mother.”For a moment, my brain was caught in a muddle. From what I was told, Grandma and Grandpa Cranwinkle had lived in the Inner States where he worked at Servidyne. How could Mrs. Graham have taught my mother? “Grandpa?”“Yes?”“How did she teach Mother? Didn’t you live in the Inner States?”“Not everyone wanted to stay after the Great Separation. Eliza—your Grandmother, and I left along with quite a few others. It just so happened that Mrs. Graham left the Inner States and came here…I didn’t realize she was still teaching though.”My mouth fell open slightly. “So she knows what we’ve come from?”Grandpa went to the driver’s side and opened the door. “Yes.”“She never said anything about it.”“Many of us don’t want to.”I climbed into the truck. The ride home was a quiet one. I began to get a good understanding of the people who left after the Great Separation. They wanted to be as far from the Inner States as possible. It seemed like they were ashamed of what we’d become. What was wrong with our world of intelligence, science, and technology? Why would someone want to live in the past? These people had become an enigma to me. Grandpa pulled up to the house and let us out. We tumbled from the truck and hurried up the stairs to the porch. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the barn roof had been repaired. I wondered how much more severe weather we’d be seeing. Prickles ran down my spine as I thought about last night. Imminent death had only been a few dozen yards away. Living in a place like this was not for the faint of heart. Rory opened the door and we went inside. A wonderful aroma hit my nose and my stomach immediately started to growl. I heard Grandma in the kitchen. She was making something sweet, I smelled what I thought might be chocolate. I hoped it would be dessert after one of her fine meals. Dinner last night had been sandwiches because of the storm. Tonight it smelled like she was cooking something fabulous. Tromping up to our room, I put my backpack on the old trunk and commenced changing clothes. Mrs. Graham never gave us much homework, so I’d finished mine during my detention. Rory and Suz hung out in the courtyard, so I doubted they’d done their work. I pulled off my jeans and selected a pair that had been grease stained when I brushed by the tractor one day. Grandma said the stain would eventually wear out, but to keep these jeans for play. I’m not exactly sure what she meant by that; play in my terms consisted of networking our tablets together and attempting to access the Inner States informational databases. I was informed that in the past the action was called hacking. We just thought it was good fun to see how many times it took to break the main system computer’s password. For the most part, we weren’t interested in what the database held, just the password. We had to quit, however, when the Information Ministry installed software that registered any computer that tried to gain access. So much for our fun and games. Rory came in and dropped his bag on the bed. “Have you done your homework?”“Yeah. Why didn’t you while I was in detention?”“I was hanging out with Suz.”“So? You both could have had it done. There wasn’t much.”“Dagwood’s coming over, right?”“Yeah, he should be here anytime.”“And you’re going to show him the bot?”“That was my plan.”“Think he’s even smart enough to understand it?”“Rather irrelevant, don’t you think?”“So why show it to him at all?”“Because maybe I think it’s nice to finally have a friend. You don’t seem to be making a concerted effort.”“I’m trying. But the kids laugh at me.”“Why?”“Because I’m what they call a nerd.”“Nerd? What’s that mean?”“Evidently some kid that’s too smart for their own good.”“Maybe you should act dumber.”Rory punched me in the arm. “No way!”“Ow!” I retaliated, giving him a solid jab. “Maybe you shouldn’t act like you’re better than them.”“Why? You do.”“Not really…I think we’re going to have problems for a while. The kids here have never seen or been around GEE kids. They don’t realize we’re kids like them.”“I case you haven’t noticed, those kids think that playing in a dirt puddle is fun. They throw rocks into the pond, ride bicycles up and down dirt roads, and play in something called a corn silo. They have no understanding of our idea of play.”“Maybe we should learn their kind of play.”Rory dumped his school tablet out of the bag. “I don’t like getting dirty.”“No, that’s right, you don’t. Perhaps there’s some kind of clean activities we could do to fit in.”“Doubt it. Just look at this place: filth everywhere.”“It’s not that bad.”“Yes it is.” I ignored him in favor of picking up one of the books, cracking it open, and reading.
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