Farmboy

Chapter 2

The morning spawned bright and early. I yawned and pulled myself out of bed. Slowly I trudged downstairs. I was completely exhausted, and my mind was blissfully ignorant for a few precious moments. I poured syrup on my pancakes. As I ate the drowned pancakes, my mind got a kick-start - and I remembered the embarrassing moments from yesterday. Groaning, I ate the pancakes. As I dragged myself back up the stairs, I realized it was Saturday, and so I turned around, went back down and fell onto the couch. My hand groping for the remote, I covered myself with a blanket with the other hand. My head rested on a couch pillow. I found the remote and turned on the TV. The news flashed on, describing in full detail a horrific car crash. Ugh. I flipped the channel, and a kid’s cartoon came on. I used to watch this show was I was little, so I kept the channel on and indulged myself in childish reminiscence. About an hour later, my mom came downstairs, surprised to find me up. On Saturdays, I typically slept till after lunch.
“You’re awake?” My mom said.

“Ugh. Yes.” I mumbled.
“Did you have bad dreams or something? A headache? Do you want some Tylenol?” She asked me, worried.

“Mom, I just forgot that it was Saturday and to turn off my alarm clock. I’m fine.” I muttered.

“Right. Sorry. Do you want breakfast?”
“Already ate.”
“Ah. Ok. I’m just going to go make myself breakfast. Enjoy watching...um, whatever is you’re watching.” She hurried off into the kitchen. I sighed in annoyance. She was entirely overprotective, even though I knew she had my best interests at heart. Yawning, I turned back to my TV.

⚘⚘⚘

As the afternoon peaked, I decided to stop being lazy and go for another stroll in the woods. It was a pretty day, with a crisp September chill swirling through the air. The vibrant leaves crackled under my feet. I hummed under my breath, quietly, so only I could hear. Within less than a minute I had reached the top of the forest, and continued slowly towards the left, walking alongside the wire fence.

I couldn’t deny it. I was hoping to see Andrew again, but I wasn’t sure when he would come. Perhaps he would see me, and dash away for a second, but the farm was a bit far from the fence. I wondered how he had noticed me the first time. Perhaps he saw me, but what if he’d heard me? I opened my lips and began to sing quietly, all the while gazing at the farm. Eventually I decided he wasn’t coming, and turned away.

“Beautiful voice as always, Abby, but I do believe you went a tad bit flat on that last note.”
I whirled around.
“Andrew!” I said in surprise.

“In the flesh.” He gave a little bow.

“I thought - um, I didn’t expect to see you again!” I stammered. I almost said “I thought you weren’t coming!” but I was scared of what he might think of that.

“Well, really, Abby, I live here. If you come here, I’ll probably see you.” He said, smiling.
My heart soared. I beat it down.

“Oh…that’s pretty cool, Andrew. Um, but I’ve been to the forest plenty over the summer. Why didn’t you ever see me then?” I asked.

“Oh, of course. I only just got back from our summer farm last week.”
“Summer farm...like...oh. Okay.” I said, mildly confused.   

“Like a summer home, yeah, except a farm. Only summer crops grow there.” He explained.

“And do you move all the animals over there too?” I wondered aloud.
He laughed. “No, of course not. There’s far too many of them, and most of them would hate it. My family goes to the summer farm, but we leave the farm hands here, and my dad checks up on them once every week. But it’s good to be back here.” He said, sticking his hands in his pockets. I smiled. There was a slightly awkward silence. I shuffled my feet and looked down.

“That’s pretty cool.” I said.

“It is.” said Andrew.

“So is living on a farm.” I added.

“Yeah…” He murmured. “But it gets kinda lonely, you know?”

“Lonely?” I echoed.

“Well, yeah.” He said. “All the farmhands are like a decade older than me, and I’m the only child.”
“What about school?” I questioned.
“Homeschooled.” He said with a shrug. “Although I don’t do much of it, I’m needed to tend to the animals and crops an awful lot. So it’s a lot of work.”

“I can imagine.” I muttered. “So…do you need to go back and work now?”
“Probably, but…”
“Yeah. I get it.”

Somewhere out in the farm, an elderly voice called out. “Andrew! Andrew, come pick these radishes!”
“Oh, that’s my Great-Aunt Dorothy. I’d better go.” He said sheepishly. “Bye.” He left.

“Bye, Farmboy.” I said, once I was sure he couldn’t hear me.