The Austin Family

Kentucky

Noah's POV

This morning I had a great idea. I was going to dig an underground tunnel branching from my sandbox all the way to Kentucky. I grabbed my shovel and started digging at sunrise, planning on reaching Kentucky by sunset. It couldn't take that long, right? I shoveled for hours, beads of sweat rolling down my forehead. By this point, the hole was big enough for me to fit my whole body while sitting crisscross applesauce. It was gigantic!

At this rate, I was going to get to Kentucky in no time. I might even get there before sunset. I looked up for a moment and saw the hot summer sun beaming down on me. I sure was lucky that mom and dad built my sandbox under the big oak tree in our backyard. If it wasn't for the tree the sun probably would have set me on fire by now. I would look like the cupcakes that mama tried to make last week. And let me tell you, mama is a terrible cook. You would not want to look like one of her cupcakes.

"Noah, Sweetheart." Mama said, opening the door. She was wearing her apron that said, World's Best Cook. The apron was covered in flour and she was holding a plate full of... cookies? I wasn't really sure what was on the plate. They kind of looked like the stuff that's in the grill when dad's cooking hamburger. What's that stuff called again? Charcoal?

"I just finished making cookies. Do you want some?" Mama asked me, and I shook my head with a look of disgust on my face.

"Naw, I'm all set." I reply, as I head back to working on my tunnel. As I continue to dig, I hear a loud rumble approach the house, until it stops and I hear the gate open and close. I look up to see my older brother Tommy looking at me with a small smile lingering on his face. He was wearing his favorite leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath.

Tommy is 17, which means that he's 10 fingers older than me. I'm getting better at math ever since Tommy started helping me. He's a good teacher. As he takes off his helmet, he reveals his messy brown hair. He shakes his head, resembling a dog after it gets out of the water and I giggle a little at the thought of Tommy looking like a dog.

"What're you laughing at?" He asks me. I told him that he looked like a wet dog and he chuckled lightly, his smile never fading. Tommy looks down at my tunnel with a confused look on his face. What? Has he never seen someone build a tunnel to Kentucky before? Shaking his head, he opens the door to enter the house, sending a cloud of smoke out the door. "Mama, have you been baking again?" He shouts as the door closes and I return to my digging.

As I continue to dig, my arms start to get really tired but I keep digging anyways. I'm really hungry and the faster I build my tunnel to Kentucky, the faster I can get myself some food. Some tasty fried chicken to be exact. Why else would I build a tunnel to Kentucky?

When I was learning about the states in school, I asked Tommy if you need to go to Kentucky to get fried chicken. He said, "Of course ya do, Noah. Where else would ya get it?" He said it in a funny way that he calls sarcasm, but I never figured out what that means. I think it's used when you're being completely serious about something. After all, that's what Mama told me when I asked her. She even said it in a sarcastic way, so I have no reason to doubt her.

At about supper time, my stomach was rumbling for some fried chicken. I didn't eat all day just so I could get to Kentucky and I think I'm almost there. I hear another rumbling sound approach the house and since I know it isn't Tommy, Papa must be home. I jump up to tell him that I'm almost to Kentucky, so we can have fried chicken for supper.

When he gets out of the car I have a bewildered look on my face. In his hands, he is holding a bag of Kentucky Fried Chicken, the thing I was working so hard to get all day.
They ushered me inside and I rushed to the table, ready to eat. We thanked God for our food, and then we all dug in. As we were sitting at the dinner table eating supper, realization dawned on me. "Papa, you went to Kentucky?!" I exclaimed.

"No. What makes you think that?" He asks, confused.

"You brought home Kentucky Fried Chicken. How could you have gotten it if you didn't go to Kentucky?"

"Who told you that KFC has to come from Kentucky?" Papa asks me. "I did." Tommy laughs. He then turns to me, saying, "I told you that sarcastically, Noah."

"Exactly, which means that it comes from Kentucky, right?" I say, confused with them. Something must be wrong with these people, because they clearly don't know what they're talking about. They all laugh as Papa says, "Sure, kiddo. It definitely comes from Kentucky." At that moment, I knew that what Tommy had told me about fried chicken must be true. Papa said that sarcastically, after all.