Servo 19:2
Servo 19:2
It never fails; the hours could not have passed more slowly. Mrs. Graham gave us two exams, and of course, we passed. After, we were instructed to do some reading. There wasn’t much more she could teach us with two days remaining in the school year. I was bored out of my mind and just wanted to get home and check on the bot. As I perused the reading list on the school tablet, I found a curious title: Frankenstein. What was that all about? I clicked on the icon and a small synopsis came up. The story was about a scientist that experimented with a dead human body and managed to bring it back to life. Hmm, interesting, I thought and clicked on the book. As I read, I could not stop thinking about what I’d done with the bot. No, it wasn’t human, not even remotely, but somehow I’d brought it back to life. The bell finally rang and we were released from class. Rory and I ran like wild horses to get to the parking lot. Grandpa was waiting. He was filthy dirty, covered in mud, char, and even some grease. “Hi, Grandpa,” I said cheerfully. Hoping my positive tone would raise his spirits some.“Hello, boys. How was school?”“We got A’s on both finals,” Rory said, hopping in the backseat.“Good, good for you.”“Hey!” Dagwood called. He ran toward us like a steam engine. “Can I ride home with you?”Grandpa nodded. “Sure, Dagwood, hop in.”“Thanks!” He clambered into the backseat, taking up the now unoccupied space left by Suz. We headed for home.“Mr. Cranwinkle?” Dagwood said.“Yes?”“Did my pa come over to help?”“Yes, he did. Mighty grateful for the help, too. Lightning must’ve hit the barn. A good part of the roof was gone and fire burned many of the rafters.”“Is the barn gonna be okay?”“Will be. I need to go by the hardware store and get some lumber.” He stopped at a stop sign, and instead of going left, he made a right turn into town. I wondered about the bot. Had he discovered it? Surely he did because he was working right above the bench where the bot lay. A gaping hole in the roof made it clearly evident that the storm had been violent. I knew better than to say a single word about the bot. We’d have to wait until we got home, changed clothes, and had a quick snack before venturing to the barn. That seemed like hours away. Grandpa pulled up to the hardware store. Dagwood immediately hopped out. I considered just staying in the truck, but Rory got out too. So I unwillingly exited and followed along. There was nothing inside the old store that interested me. Big silver-colored bins were filled with screws, nuts, bolts, nails, and a variety of other fasteners to which I had no clue as to their use. I heard a strange noise coming from the back of the store. Navigating through the aisles and shelves, I discovered a large galvanized tub filled with baby chickens. A red light kept them warm as they skittered around in their shaving-filled environment. Admittedly, they were cute; a rainbow of colors. All were cheeping up a storm. Rory showed up next to me. “Aw, look at the baby chicks!”“They are cute, huh?”“Do you think Grandpa would let us have some?”“Doubt it.”Before long, Dagwood found us. “Ha, ha, babies.”“You have chickens, right?” Rory asked.“Yup.”“Are they hard to take care of?”“Well, you have to take care of them. Can’t just let them run around by themselves. They ain’t like having a dog. Chickens you have to put in the coop at night.”Rory chuckled. “And dogs don’t lay eggs.”I thought Dagwood was going to burst. He clamped his hands over his stomach and laughed so hard tears were running down his cheeks. His face was beet red. Grandpa came back to see what the ruckus was all about. “What’s so funny?”Dagwood had no composure. Rory’s little comment had him in hysterics. “Rory told Dagwood that dog’s don’t lay eggs,” I said.Grandpa just gave me a blank stare. “Grandpa? Can we get some chickens?” Rory pestered.“Sorry, boys, but I have enough trouble just keeping up with the farm we have now. Chickens will only mean more work.”“But we can take care of them!”“No. I’m gonna put my foot down on that one. It’s too much work.”Dagwood finally stopped laughing. “Oh, Mr. Cranwinkle, they can come over and help with my chickens.”Grandpa held up a finger. “Now that I can agree with.”Rory folded his arms across his chest. “I wanted my own.” “When you’re old enough to afford your own farm, you can have your own chickens.”
It never fails; the hours could not have passed more slowly. Mrs. Graham gave us two exams, and of course, we passed. After, we were instructed to do some reading. There wasn’t much more she could teach us with two days remaining in the school year. I was bored out of my mind and just wanted to get home and check on the bot. As I perused the reading list on the school tablet, I found a curious title: Frankenstein. What was that all about? I clicked on the icon and a small synopsis came up. The story was about a scientist that experimented with a dead human body and managed to bring it back to life. Hmm, interesting, I thought and clicked on the book. As I read, I could not stop thinking about what I’d done with the bot. No, it wasn’t human, not even remotely, but somehow I’d brought it back to life. The bell finally rang and we were released from class. Rory and I ran like wild horses to get to the parking lot. Grandpa was waiting. He was filthy dirty, covered in mud, char, and even some grease. “Hi, Grandpa,” I said cheerfully. Hoping my positive tone would raise his spirits some.“Hello, boys. How was school?”“We got A’s on both finals,” Rory said, hopping in the backseat.“Good, good for you.”“Hey!” Dagwood called. He ran toward us like a steam engine. “Can I ride home with you?”Grandpa nodded. “Sure, Dagwood, hop in.”“Thanks!” He clambered into the backseat, taking up the now unoccupied space left by Suz. We headed for home.“Mr. Cranwinkle?” Dagwood said.“Yes?”“Did my pa come over to help?”“Yes, he did. Mighty grateful for the help, too. Lightning must’ve hit the barn. A good part of the roof was gone and fire burned many of the rafters.”“Is the barn gonna be okay?”“Will be. I need to go by the hardware store and get some lumber.” He stopped at a stop sign, and instead of going left, he made a right turn into town. I wondered about the bot. Had he discovered it? Surely he did because he was working right above the bench where the bot lay. A gaping hole in the roof made it clearly evident that the storm had been violent. I knew better than to say a single word about the bot. We’d have to wait until we got home, changed clothes, and had a quick snack before venturing to the barn. That seemed like hours away. Grandpa pulled up to the hardware store. Dagwood immediately hopped out. I considered just staying in the truck, but Rory got out too. So I unwillingly exited and followed along. There was nothing inside the old store that interested me. Big silver-colored bins were filled with screws, nuts, bolts, nails, and a variety of other fasteners to which I had no clue as to their use. I heard a strange noise coming from the back of the store. Navigating through the aisles and shelves, I discovered a large galvanized tub filled with baby chickens. A red light kept them warm as they skittered around in their shaving-filled environment. Admittedly, they were cute; a rainbow of colors. All were cheeping up a storm. Rory showed up next to me. “Aw, look at the baby chicks!”“They are cute, huh?”“Do you think Grandpa would let us have some?”“Doubt it.”Before long, Dagwood found us. “Ha, ha, babies.”“You have chickens, right?” Rory asked.“Yup.”“Are they hard to take care of?”“Well, you have to take care of them. Can’t just let them run around by themselves. They ain’t like having a dog. Chickens you have to put in the coop at night.”Rory chuckled. “And dogs don’t lay eggs.”I thought Dagwood was going to burst. He clamped his hands over his stomach and laughed so hard tears were running down his cheeks. His face was beet red. Grandpa came back to see what the ruckus was all about. “What’s so funny?”Dagwood had no composure. Rory’s little comment had him in hysterics. “Rory told Dagwood that dog’s don’t lay eggs,” I said.Grandpa just gave me a blank stare. “Grandpa? Can we get some chickens?” Rory pestered.“Sorry, boys, but I have enough trouble just keeping up with the farm we have now. Chickens will only mean more work.”“But we can take care of them!”“No. I’m gonna put my foot down on that one. It’s too much work.”Dagwood finally stopped laughing. “Oh, Mr. Cranwinkle, they can come over and help with my chickens.”Grandpa held up a finger. “Now that I can agree with.”Rory folded his arms across his chest. “I wanted my own.” “When you’re old enough to afford your own farm, you can have your own chickens.”
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