do you hear the people sing? {zori}
Jun 16, 2015 14:47:11 GMT -5
Post by Raseri on Jun 16, 2015 14:47:11 GMT -5
{ E M E R Y } HOLBROOK
Don’t get me wrong, I love to have fun just like everyone else around here, all kinds of fun. Sneaking out after dark to go ghost hunting with my brothers and sisters in the cornfields; sneaking around with a girl; sneaking a jar of whiskey from the back of the pantry (my uncle has never been the best at hiding places), sneaking out to play pranks on the neighbors. Ripred knows we need a little fun around here, with everything we deal with. A kid would go crazy if all he got to do was work in the fields or the orchards, eat, and sleep—no fun or nothin’.
All that being said, I wouldn't consider myself to be the rebellious type. I do what I’m told; I help where I can. I like to do what makes other people happy—whether it’s making them laugh or lending them a hand, or just being their friend when they need one. I'm happy with what I have. Life here ain’t perfect, but for us, it ain’t terrible either.
On weekdays here in the Holbrook house, we have a schedule that is more or less strictly followed: we wake up, go to work in the fields, come home, eat dinner, and do our chores (each person is assigned a certain chore. I do the dishes.). After that, we have a few hours to ourselves before we go to bed. Some of us spend this time reading, or napping (since boy, do we need it!). Most often, I spend it outside, either meeting up with friends or working on the house or just sitting on the back porch watching the stars fade in and out of the afternoon clouds.
Sometimes each day is so much like the one before it that it’s easy to forget how far into the week you are. You can get lost in the shuffle of days, I guess. Any shift in routine, any little event that sets apart one day from the next is a welcome change. So when I happened to step outside for a moment just to get some fresh air, and I found a note on the bottom step to the porch, I couldn’t help but get a little excited about it. It was just a regular white envelope with my first name scribbled on the back of it:
To me, just me. For some reason the sight of my own name on paper made me smile. I was happy just to get something personal like this, even though I didn’t know what it said yet. I pulled the foldy end of the envelope out with my thumb and pulled out the piece of notebook paper inside—it was closed real easy like that, not sealed or anything. As I read I muttered the words softly to myself—I was never a very good reader; it just never struck me as something I’d need much in this district. I was good enough at it to read this, at least:
Now who could be wanting to meet me at the watering hole? It sounded kinda like a romance, when forbidden lovers met in secret after dark. Like the kind of thing you only heard about in stories. I decided to imagine that it was something like that rather than something boring: it could just be one of my friends dropping off something I lost at work, or passing on a message. But no! It was definitely something way more exciting than that.
It was almost 6:30, so I figured I’d better hurry if I wanted to get there in time. I went back inside for a minute to check my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Wetting my fingers beneath the faucet, I fluffed up my hair a little. For a second a thought there was a speck of dirt on my cheek but I decided after a moment that the speck was actually just on the mirror itself. Anyways, I splashed my face a few times for good measure. Whoever I was meeting, I thought I’d be courteous enough to look decent. Then I left, calling out to my aunt so she’d know I wasn’t going missing. “Aunt Susan, I’m heading out! I’ll be home before ten!” My voice boomed through the kitchen, and then I was gone, pulling the screen door closed behind me.
On the way to the watering hole, my thoughts wandered among the possibilities of who could have summoned me there. Maybe it was someone who didn’t like me, calling me out there for a fight, but I doubted it—I always tried to stay on good terms with everyone whether I liked them or not. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been in an argument with anyone outside of my own family. No, I liked to consider the more optimistic possibilities. It was probably a girl; at least, I hoped it was. Maybe it was that blonde girl with the funny scar on her leg that was always staring at me when we were working in the fields (What was her name? Tara? Tami? Something with a T).
When I got there (hopefully not too late), the sun was just beginning to touch the tops of the trees. I'd forgotten how peaceful this place was in the afternoon, when you could see everything reflected in the water just like a mirror. When the sky was blue and cloudless, it almost made the murky water look clear enough to drink. It felt humid here and for a moment, I thought maybe swimming wouldn't be such a bad idea.
A bit nervously, I shielded my eyes from the sun and searched for whoever left me the note. But the person I found by the water wasn't an enemy, or a girl either. For a second my smile faltered in surprise, but I made it a point to put it right back on--I didn't want it to be mistaken for disappointment. No, I was happy to see him. I gave my friend a wave.
"Sampson! Long time no see, bud. Did you leave me that note? Man, I felt like a detective! Why so sneaky? We planning a heist or somethin'?" I let out a laugh, realizing that this was ridiculous, and I walked over to give him a firm hello handshake.
All that being said, I wouldn't consider myself to be the rebellious type. I do what I’m told; I help where I can. I like to do what makes other people happy—whether it’s making them laugh or lending them a hand, or just being their friend when they need one. I'm happy with what I have. Life here ain’t perfect, but for us, it ain’t terrible either.
On weekdays here in the Holbrook house, we have a schedule that is more or less strictly followed: we wake up, go to work in the fields, come home, eat dinner, and do our chores (each person is assigned a certain chore. I do the dishes.). After that, we have a few hours to ourselves before we go to bed. Some of us spend this time reading, or napping (since boy, do we need it!). Most often, I spend it outside, either meeting up with friends or working on the house or just sitting on the back porch watching the stars fade in and out of the afternoon clouds.
Sometimes each day is so much like the one before it that it’s easy to forget how far into the week you are. You can get lost in the shuffle of days, I guess. Any shift in routine, any little event that sets apart one day from the next is a welcome change. So when I happened to step outside for a moment just to get some fresh air, and I found a note on the bottom step to the porch, I couldn’t help but get a little excited about it. It was just a regular white envelope with my first name scribbled on the back of it:
To me, just me. For some reason the sight of my own name on paper made me smile. I was happy just to get something personal like this, even though I didn’t know what it said yet. I pulled the foldy end of the envelope out with my thumb and pulled out the piece of notebook paper inside—it was closed real easy like that, not sealed or anything. As I read I muttered the words softly to myself—I was never a very good reader; it just never struck me as something I’d need much in this district. I was good enough at it to read this, at least:
“Meet me at the watering hole at 7 p.m.”
Now who could be wanting to meet me at the watering hole? It sounded kinda like a romance, when forbidden lovers met in secret after dark. Like the kind of thing you only heard about in stories. I decided to imagine that it was something like that rather than something boring: it could just be one of my friends dropping off something I lost at work, or passing on a message. But no! It was definitely something way more exciting than that.
It was almost 6:30, so I figured I’d better hurry if I wanted to get there in time. I went back inside for a minute to check my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Wetting my fingers beneath the faucet, I fluffed up my hair a little. For a second a thought there was a speck of dirt on my cheek but I decided after a moment that the speck was actually just on the mirror itself. Anyways, I splashed my face a few times for good measure. Whoever I was meeting, I thought I’d be courteous enough to look decent. Then I left, calling out to my aunt so she’d know I wasn’t going missing. “Aunt Susan, I’m heading out! I’ll be home before ten!” My voice boomed through the kitchen, and then I was gone, pulling the screen door closed behind me.
On the way to the watering hole, my thoughts wandered among the possibilities of who could have summoned me there. Maybe it was someone who didn’t like me, calling me out there for a fight, but I doubted it—I always tried to stay on good terms with everyone whether I liked them or not. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been in an argument with anyone outside of my own family. No, I liked to consider the more optimistic possibilities. It was probably a girl; at least, I hoped it was. Maybe it was that blonde girl with the funny scar on her leg that was always staring at me when we were working in the fields (What was her name? Tara? Tami? Something with a T).
When I got there (hopefully not too late), the sun was just beginning to touch the tops of the trees. I'd forgotten how peaceful this place was in the afternoon, when you could see everything reflected in the water just like a mirror. When the sky was blue and cloudless, it almost made the murky water look clear enough to drink. It felt humid here and for a moment, I thought maybe swimming wouldn't be such a bad idea.
A bit nervously, I shielded my eyes from the sun and searched for whoever left me the note. But the person I found by the water wasn't an enemy, or a girl either. For a second my smile faltered in surprise, but I made it a point to put it right back on--I didn't want it to be mistaken for disappointment. No, I was happy to see him. I gave my friend a wave.
"Sampson! Long time no see, bud. Did you leave me that note? Man, I felt like a detective! Why so sneaky? We planning a heist or somethin'?" I let out a laugh, realizing that this was ridiculous, and I walked over to give him a firm hello handshake.
