Geff and Jerald

Geff, Not Jeff

I crumpled up the paper in my hand and threw it in the waste bin. "That's the third time I got a piece of mail that spelled my name wrong." I wasn't alone, though. Jerald had the same problems. "Pffft. You think people spell my name correctly. I don't think so. Besides, you know how they are, Geff." I scoffed. "What type of name is Jeff? Or Gerald? The folks got it all wrong." I took out a ping-pong paddle and hit the little ball on it. Getting up and stretching, Mom called me downstairs. "You missed a section." I scratched my head. "Huh? What are you talking abou--" She pointed at a flat spot in the field. "You know what this means, young man. Go and till the missing dirt." Seriously? Why do I have to go chop up the dirt? "Why can't Jerald do it? He still has his overalls on--" Jerald interrupted me. "Did someone call my name?" He had on a T-shirt and soft shorts. I still was wearing the sweaty shirt from earlier. "You know how to do it, nice and loose!" I groaned and went upstairs to put on my overalls. I shoved my legs inside and grabbed a hoe. My neck still kinda hurt, but I didn't complain.
The farm people never complain. No matter what. But that didn't matter right now. I finally went inside, but I didn't finish. Mom was at the kitchen table, reading a novel. I started for upstairs. Don't say anything, I thought. AHEM. I stopped and turned around. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her hands on her hips. "Did you finish?" I sighed.

"No..."

"Well then, why didn't you say anything?"

"I was tired."

"It's fine. I'll get you a flashlight."

"Okay..."

I finished up in about five minutes, this time with Mom watching me. I was hoping to talk with Jerald, but he was already asleep. Not good. That guy snores louder than a family of bears in deep hibernation. After I sat in my bed, thinking. Why do I get aggravated when people call me Jeff?
I've never heard of another Geff in my entire twelve years of existence. But the same question stayed in my head the whole time I was awake. What gave Mom the idea to name me Geff? I shrugged as I pulled up my blankets. Maybe it was a term of respect.