Meet You There

Chapter One: Apparently, Megan

I arrived at Kennerley Farm & Ranch at approximately 9pm. I remember this because Game Of Thrones was just starting on HBO when I switched on the old TV the Kennerley’s had kindly provided for my humble little barn conversion. They’ve set it all up for me. It is small, just a joint-living-room–and-kitchen, bathroom, and a small bedroom with a queen sized murphy bed, but it’s cosy and well decorated with quaint country-style furnishings and it smells of fresh air. What more could a young farm hand want?

Well, a slightly bigger TV with better sound quality wouldn’t go amiss, but I can’t complain. I can still watch Game of Thrones and understand everything, and in addition to HBO I have a fair amount of other channels, so I’m satisfied.

I drove for about thirteen hours, taking breaks for food and only as much sleep as necessary from Denver, Colorado to Ranley, Texas.

Ranley is a small town in Hill Country of about seven hundred residents, not too far from Dallas, and my new home. It’s also where I spent every summer as a young child. My Grandparents lived in a beautiful and large home (they were fairly wealthy) in the heart of the town. Roland and Annie Fairchild were dearly loved by everyone in Ranley, they were practically the town father and mother. Every summer my family would leave our city apartment in Denver behind for a couple of months. When I think of the happiest memories of my life, most of them took place in this town.

When I was eleven, my Grandma died, just two months after we’d been for our annual visit. Six months later, my Grandpa died also. We never went back to Ranley. Despite the inevitability of the situation, the town was devastated by the loss of the two beloved elderly residents, the lady and gentleman that seemed to watch over the town.

We had expected my Grandfather to leave the house to my mom, but what he left in his will was a shock to everyone.

Grandma had always talked about running some sort of youth hostel or group home for runaway teens. Grandpa was against the idea, claiming that taking on a business would be too much for them and it was an impractical idea.

However, in his will, Grandpa Roland stated clearly that he wanted to give the house to the community to make their sizeabale home in to the child and adolescent shelter his wife had always dreamed of founding. My mother wasn’t hurt by him not leaving his house to her. Upon hearing the news, she cried, but with tears of joy. She’d knew her parents had loved each other more than any couple she had ever known, but she had no idea her father would do this for her mother. It was a surprise, but a pleasant one, and everyone Roland and Annie knew were touched by it.

The house was taken over by the rich George Swift, my Grandpa’s best friend and retired CEO. And thus, that was the birth of Fairchild Haven for Homeless Youth, or Fairchild Haven, for short.

My Grandfather used to volunteer at the Kennerley Farm & Ranch. He said it was a way to pass the time with something productive. During the summer, he would take me along to help out and him and I fell in love with it. The horses, the smell of dirt, the relaxed way of life. I always knew that was what I wanted to do when I grew up. So, screw college, I thought, I'd head down to Ranley and become a farm hand in the same farm I spent my childhood summers.

This caused a fair bit of controversy in my house. While Mom fully endorsed the idea, Dad told me I was throwing my life away. He told me I was too smart to spend my life in a hick town digging up horse crap for the rest of my life. I told him I wasn't smart enough for college anyway, although that wasn't entirely true. It's not that I'm not smart, it's that I've never understood the education system. I am definitely not the academic type. Life is too short, so I spent most of my education slacking off, knowing that when I left high school I'd pack up and leave for Ranley. Kennerley Farm, to be exact.