Servo 15:3
Servo 15:3
Another day of school dragged by. Mrs. Graham made sure to query me heavily on the previous night’s homework. I was ready for her, never missing a question. She must’ve been satisfied; she changed her focus to Rory, who was also up on his studies. Suz was surprisingly quiet for much of the day. Grandpa picked us up after school. More storm clouds gathered, more snow on the way. “Good afternoon, children,” he said, opening doors for us.“Hi, Grandpa,” I said, sliding into my position in the front seat.“Have a good day at school?”“Not too bad.”“Looks like more snow.” He closed the door and went to help Suz. “It’s been years since we’ve had this much precipitation during the winter.”“Is that a good thing?” I called over the seatback.“Darn good thing.”“Does that mean you might get to plant corn next year?”“Certainly not hurting.” Once Suz and Rory were in, he closed the door and went to the driver’s side. “Now what we need is a fairly dry spring so everyone can plant.”“Do you think that will happen?”“There’s no telling how the weather will go.”“Grandpa?” Suz piped up. “Why do they not have weather generators here?”“Too expensive.”“I’d think it would be a priority.”“Why do you think that?”“Well, much of this food goes to the Inner States.”“Yes.”“So there need to be perfect weather to feed everyone.”He paused before starting the engine. “Well, if the Inner States folk are so worried about their food, why don’t they buy weather generators for us?”Suz was silent a few moments. “I don’t know why.”“Because all they want to do is take, not give.”“Not everyone is like that.”“No, but the government is the one who decides where the money goes.”“You don’t think they would buy needed equipment?”Grandpa turned slightly in his seat. “We’ve been in drought for over five years. Not once has the Inner States offered to help. Yet they complain when there’s a shortage of food and the prices go up.” He started the truck; the grumble of the engine pretty much ended the conversation. Just as he was pulling away from the curb, Dagwood ran out. “Hey!”Grandpa stopped. I rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”“Boy howdy do I! I got caught passing a message to a girl. The teacher gave me fifteen minutes detention.”“Passing a note?” I opened the door.Dagwood clambered in. “I didn’t write the note, I was just passing it.” He closed the door, turned to me, and smiled. “But she was a pretty girl!”“Worth getting caught?” Grandpa asked.“I thought so. But the pretty girl thinks I’m dumb.”“Don’t pay any mind to what others think. You’re a good young man, Dagwood.”“Thank you, Mr. Cranwinkle.”Grandpa aimed the truck toward home. Along the way, snowflakes began to fall. “Am I dropping you at your house?”Dagwood regarded me. “Can I hang out with you?”“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “Don’t you have homework?”“Did it during detention. There wasn’t much.”“Right. How will you get home later?”“I’ll just walk. It’s not that far.”“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The storm might be a bad one.”“I can always call Pa to come get me with the tractor.”Grandpa drove slowly down the road. The snow plows had piled snow so high there was barely enough road to drive on. A few remnant rays of sunshine glanced off the drifts reflecting silver twinkles. I thought it looked beautiful. My favorite things were the icicles hanging from the gutter edges. One outside my window looked like an ice sword. How I dreamt that I could fight a battle with it. Living in the Outer States had definitely caused my imagination to grow.“How much more of this snow are we going to have, Grandpa?” Suz asked.“It’ll stop when it stops.”“When will that be?”“Spring hopefully.”“And then the flowers come out?”He chuckled. “Maybe.”“Why won’t they?”“Been so long in drought, most of them have died.”“Pity. It would be nice to see them.” “Maybe Mother Nature will work some magic.”
Another day of school dragged by. Mrs. Graham made sure to query me heavily on the previous night’s homework. I was ready for her, never missing a question. She must’ve been satisfied; she changed her focus to Rory, who was also up on his studies. Suz was surprisingly quiet for much of the day. Grandpa picked us up after school. More storm clouds gathered, more snow on the way. “Good afternoon, children,” he said, opening doors for us.“Hi, Grandpa,” I said, sliding into my position in the front seat.“Have a good day at school?”“Not too bad.”“Looks like more snow.” He closed the door and went to help Suz. “It’s been years since we’ve had this much precipitation during the winter.”“Is that a good thing?” I called over the seatback.“Darn good thing.”“Does that mean you might get to plant corn next year?”“Certainly not hurting.” Once Suz and Rory were in, he closed the door and went to the driver’s side. “Now what we need is a fairly dry spring so everyone can plant.”“Do you think that will happen?”“There’s no telling how the weather will go.”“Grandpa?” Suz piped up. “Why do they not have weather generators here?”“Too expensive.”“I’d think it would be a priority.”“Why do you think that?”“Well, much of this food goes to the Inner States.”“Yes.”“So there need to be perfect weather to feed everyone.”He paused before starting the engine. “Well, if the Inner States folk are so worried about their food, why don’t they buy weather generators for us?”Suz was silent a few moments. “I don’t know why.”“Because all they want to do is take, not give.”“Not everyone is like that.”“No, but the government is the one who decides where the money goes.”“You don’t think they would buy needed equipment?”Grandpa turned slightly in his seat. “We’ve been in drought for over five years. Not once has the Inner States offered to help. Yet they complain when there’s a shortage of food and the prices go up.” He started the truck; the grumble of the engine pretty much ended the conversation. Just as he was pulling away from the curb, Dagwood ran out. “Hey!”Grandpa stopped. I rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”“Boy howdy do I! I got caught passing a message to a girl. The teacher gave me fifteen minutes detention.”“Passing a note?” I opened the door.Dagwood clambered in. “I didn’t write the note, I was just passing it.” He closed the door, turned to me, and smiled. “But she was a pretty girl!”“Worth getting caught?” Grandpa asked.“I thought so. But the pretty girl thinks I’m dumb.”“Don’t pay any mind to what others think. You’re a good young man, Dagwood.”“Thank you, Mr. Cranwinkle.”Grandpa aimed the truck toward home. Along the way, snowflakes began to fall. “Am I dropping you at your house?”Dagwood regarded me. “Can I hang out with you?”“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “Don’t you have homework?”“Did it during detention. There wasn’t much.”“Right. How will you get home later?”“I’ll just walk. It’s not that far.”“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The storm might be a bad one.”“I can always call Pa to come get me with the tractor.”Grandpa drove slowly down the road. The snow plows had piled snow so high there was barely enough road to drive on. A few remnant rays of sunshine glanced off the drifts reflecting silver twinkles. I thought it looked beautiful. My favorite things were the icicles hanging from the gutter edges. One outside my window looked like an ice sword. How I dreamt that I could fight a battle with it. Living in the Outer States had definitely caused my imagination to grow.“How much more of this snow are we going to have, Grandpa?” Suz asked.“It’ll stop when it stops.”“When will that be?”“Spring hopefully.”“And then the flowers come out?”He chuckled. “Maybe.”“Why won’t they?”“Been so long in drought, most of them have died.”“Pity. It would be nice to see them.” “Maybe Mother Nature will work some magic.”
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