familiar faces but a lot were much older. William thought the really old ones were creepy. He wondered why no one seemed to smile back then.
Upstairs was brighter; the old curtains covered everything in a soft yellow light. William unpacked his things neatly in the guestroom’s chest of drawers. He moped while thinking about his mom’s instructions. She had repeatedly said that grandpa liked things in their place. He picked up an old picture frame. It had sat on an antique corn crate that served as the bedside table. It was a picture of him standing with his gramps holding a fishing pole. He couldn’t have been more than five and was smiling ear to ear. He put the frame back, thinking it had been a long time since he smiled like that.
Sitting on the bed, he fell back on to his elbows. It felt good to relax in a quiet room, as things at home had been a little tense this past week. His mom and John (her boyfriend) had been fighting a lot. William had liked John ok, he was nicer then some of her others. His mom had told him on the drive over they just needed some alone time to work things out. But she sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself. William didn’t buy it; he had been through this too many times before.
Other sixteen year olds would have run away before wasting a summer week at a farm. But William figured his mom would owe him one. There was opportunity as well, he could do some chores and earn money for his car fund. Hanging out with his grandpa wasn’t so bad either, he did admire him. The man might be cold but he was the only real male role model William had.
William’s Grandpa was a Veteran and well respected in town. He was what William’s mom called “a man’s man”. That was a phrase she never used to describe any of her boyfriends. William knew spending time with him was also a part of sending him out here. The work was easy and the week flew by. The only thing that bothered William was afternoons just after three or so. About that time the work would be done. His grandpa would go to town to have a drink with his veteran buddies. William would be stuck at the farm which had no TV or anything for him to do until bed.
His grandpa didn’t usually get back until eight or so which was bedtime in the house. William would pass the time before he made his dinner by exploring the surrounding foothills. He also liked checking out the ancient rusted equipment collection his grandpa had amassed in the barn. There wasn’t much out by the farm but there was one place that he was told not to go. That place was a fenced off field at the end of the south property line. It was part of the old Wilson farm which had been unoccupied well before his gramps got the land 30 years ago. All the buildings had burnt or had fallen down. The only thing that was left was a huge field with an old dilapidated fence around it. Towards the middle of the field was a little hill. On that hill, in the only spot not covered in weeds as high as full grown corn stalks, was a scarecrow on a pole. William had asked why the land stayed vacant so long; his grandpa just said the soil was bad. It didn’t seem true for the weeds , William thought.
The scarecrow always caught William’s eye. It was far from the fence and when William got out that way the sun was usually hazy. Because of this he never could make it out very well. It stood like a faraway sentinel and had inspired his curiosity since youth. One Saturday, when coming back from a hike, he approached the fence and saw an animal trail through the weeds. He figured it must have been made by deer and when he stood on the fence it looked like it continued to go all the way up to the little hill. It was only four thirty and a good two hours before it would start getting dark so the idea of a little adventure was too much to resist. William hopped the fence without a second thought and landed right in the middle of the trail.
William started down the path, having to duck a
Upstairs was brighter; the old curtains covered everything in a soft yellow light. William unpacked his things neatly in the guestroom’s chest of drawers. He moped while thinking about his mom’s instructions. She had repeatedly said that grandpa liked things in their place. He picked up an old picture frame. It had sat on an antique corn crate that served as the bedside table. It was a picture of him standing with his gramps holding a fishing pole. He couldn’t have been more than five and was smiling ear to ear. He put the frame back, thinking it had been a long time since he smiled like that.
Sitting on the bed, he fell back on to his elbows. It felt good to relax in a quiet room, as things at home had been a little tense this past week. His mom and John (her boyfriend) had been fighting a lot. William had liked John ok, he was nicer then some of her others. His mom had told him on the drive over they just needed some alone time to work things out. But she sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself. William didn’t buy it; he had been through this too many times before.
Other sixteen year olds would have run away before wasting a summer week at a farm. But William figured his mom would owe him one. There was opportunity as well, he could do some chores and earn money for his car fund. Hanging out with his grandpa wasn’t so bad either, he did admire him. The man might be cold but he was the only real male role model William had.
William’s Grandpa was a Veteran and well respected in town. He was what William’s mom called “a man’s man”. That was a phrase she never used to describe any of her boyfriends. William knew spending time with him was also a part of sending him out here. The work was easy and the week flew by. The only thing that bothered William was afternoons just after three or so. About that time the work would be done. His grandpa would go to town to have a drink with his veteran buddies. William would be stuck at the farm which had no TV or anything for him to do until bed.
His grandpa didn’t usually get back until eight or so which was bedtime in the house. William would pass the time before he made his dinner by exploring the surrounding foothills. He also liked checking out the ancient rusted equipment collection his grandpa had amassed in the barn. There wasn’t much out by the farm but there was one place that he was told not to go. That place was a fenced off field at the end of the south property line. It was part of the old Wilson farm which had been unoccupied well before his gramps got the land 30 years ago. All the buildings had burnt or had fallen down. The only thing that was left was a huge field with an old dilapidated fence around it. Towards the middle of the field was a little hill. On that hill, in the only spot not covered in weeds as high as full grown corn stalks, was a scarecrow on a pole. William had asked why the land stayed vacant so long; his grandpa just said the soil was bad. It didn’t seem true for the weeds , William thought.
The scarecrow always caught William’s eye. It was far from the fence and when William got out that way the sun was usually hazy. Because of this he never could make it out very well. It stood like a faraway sentinel and had inspired his curiosity since youth. One Saturday, when coming back from a hike, he approached the fence and saw an animal trail through the weeds. He figured it must have been made by deer and when he stood on the fence it looked like it continued to go all the way up to the little hill. It was only four thirty and a good two hours before it would start getting dark so the idea of a little adventure was too much to resist. William hopped the fence without a second thought and landed right in the middle of the trail.
William started down the path, having to duck a
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