Geff and Jerald

Boring!

The next day was pretty slow. It was too wet to play outside, and I was getting bored. So was Max. That wasn't very good. See, Max is one of those playful dogs. And dogs like those want freedom. So you can bet it didn't feel good to be isolated in a house that smells like corn. He was constantly running around. Jerald tripped a couple times until he went upstairs and shut the door so Max wouldn't come in. I didn't have much to do either, so I dragged myself upstairs to look for something to entertain myself. The only thing we really had was this crusty old Game Boy that only had Tetris on it. The memory card was beat up and the screen had this big crack. Jerald was on his bed, fumbling around with it. I groaned and went downstairs to ask Mom for one of her novels. She planned on being an author, but ever since Dad died, she hasn't continued her works ever since. But I can't blame her, taking care of two kids, a dog, and a farm doesn't exactly land on an easy street. "Um, Mom?"

"Yes, Geff?" I was kinda choked up. "There's nothing to do, so can I borrow one of your novels?" She lit up. Uh-oh. Here comes the crash... "My novels? Of course, sweetie! I never knew you got into literature! There's a lot of stuff that can entertain people, but reading is the best way!" She led me to her room, where she had a shelf full of books. "Pick your choice. You never know what you might like!" Then she left. I started at the bottom, then made my way to the top. There were a lot of romance novels, most of them containing icky material. Man, couldn't there be some comics every now and then? I continued scrolling through the shelf, until there were no more options. Not even Harry Potter. I sighed and kicked the shelf in anger. Right then it shook, and dust settled on my nose, making me sneeze. "What is that?" I sniffed as I looked at the top of the shelf. On top, was a red notebook, covered in dust. It looked old, the yellow pages and faded writing said it all. I reached and dusted it off. I couldn't see very well, the title was hard to read. Finally, I flipped it over, and I gasped. The back had a tag, and it read,

Jacob Anderson

There was NO WAY I was holding my dad's notebook. I figured I'd take it up to my room, but I don't think Mom would let me slide.

Suddenly, she came into the room. "Geff? I heard some noise. Is something wrong?"

"Uh, no, I was just really into this-- book. Love of Tomorrow." I had grabbed a different book just in the nick of time. "That's a good one. Something that surprised me was..." I stopped her. "Don't spoil it for me! I need to find out for myself." And with that, I slipped by and raced upstairs. The book in my hands immediately caught Jerald's attention. The romance one, not the good one. He burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me? Love of Tomorrow? Don't tell me Mom made you read that!" I sighed. "This was my plan, and no. I did not come here to show you that garbage." I chucked the novel on my bed and pulled out the tattered notebook. Jerald was shocked. "What is that?" He seemed interested. His laughter was gone. "Remember when I told you Dad is still with us?" I said softly. "Yes, but that was years ago. You have never told me about him since." I slid into my bottom bunk. "Well, I found this on top of Mom's shelf. Something tells me she's hiding something about Dad. Something she doesn't want us to know." I whispered. Jerald locked the door, and we opened the notebook. Once we were ready, we started reading.

ENTRY ONE:

I just arrived at the warehouse. Me and my friends just got here with the truck, and we're ready to start building the new cabin. Living in my brother's house isn't exactly paradise, but it's all we've got. My wife is having a baby soon, but we need a home, somewhere we can live. While I'm not working on the plans, I think on what we should name the baby. I wasn't in any rush, since she still had a few months left. But what really worried me was winter was coming up, and the house had terrible heating, and we couldn't afford to get sick. After all, I have a job at hand. Speaking of, we had all the wood we needed, and my lunch was packed. It was go time. After building the inside, I was tired out. But once we were finished we were going to have the time of our lives. I already had all the plans in my head. The lettuce goes here, the corn there.... It was all turning out well. But my active imagination sometimes causes me problems. Ted had to constantly keep on reminding me to hammer the boards in the soon-to-be living room. I had to focus if I wanted to finish faster. By the time I finished the wall, Ted and Wallace already--

"Jerald! Geffrey! Come downstairs so we can eat!" Me and Jerald looked up and closed the notebook. I hid it under my bed, wrapping it in my dirty overalls. "Coming!"

We sped downstairs. Food was already on the table, pasta with mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce on top. I grabbed my fork and filled my mouth with the cheesy, gooey goodness. I started my second bite when I heard something in the other room. "Yes.. I see.... Don't worry, I'll talk to him... bye." She hung up and sighed. The pasta went like a rock down my throat. I kept my head down. Then I heard Mom clear her throat. I slowly looked up. She looked furious. "I thought you told me you had a good first day of school." I struggled to find words. "Ummm... yeah...?" Then she gave me the Look. If looks could kill, her eyes would penetrate through steel. She gives those looks that say I know there's still more to what you're saying, young man. "I just got a call that you served detention last Friday." She said sternly. I couldn't deny it. I had to confess. "I-I- it's true. But it wasn't my fault! I'm not used to being around those types of people!" She just kept on looking at me. "Look, Geffrey. I try my best to give you two education at home, but with the farm and all, it all piles up on me. So can you do me a favor, and next time when you go to school, I hope you're ready." And then she got up and went to her room. I tended to eat the rest of my pasta, but with all the feelings going on in my head right now, the food felt too heavy for my throat. So I stuffed it in a plastic container so I could take it to school. Jerald ate slowly, and something told me that he felt the same way.