An Adventure - Part 1

 Hello!

 Life is busy! I got called into work at the County Clerk's Office a week before I was scheduled to come in. Which means . . . I'm working the entire month of October! I thought I'd have this week to write, but so far I only wrote on Monday (started work Tuesday). I'm trying to get into a pattern for work, grading papers and preparing for the writing class I'm teaching, keeping up with emails, posting on Instagram, and other home things. So far I haven't gotten any pattern figured out yet. I've been doing lots and lots of filing so my shoulders, neck, and back are sore. 

Anyway, today's story is the first part of a 3 part story. I took the names, every one of them, from the ballot in August. I worked after the election helping certify the ballots which meant hand counting several hundred ballots and the boys names were all names that were in a row. We said them so many times we decided they must be a family. And that's how the story started.

 

An Adventure
Part 1

    “Bob, Joe, David!” Mom’s voice rang out from the house and across the large yard and into the trees beyond. “You boys get inside and clean up your room!”
    I looked at my younger brothers. “You seriously didn’t clean your room this morning, guys?”
    “We were going to–” Joe began.
    “Going to isn’t the same as getting it done,” I cut in. “Better go do it.”
    With groans and sighs, Bob, Joe, and David, ages ten, nine, and eight pushed out from our fort and trudged toward the house.
    “Tom, Randee!” Mom’s voice came again. “Better start on the chores and get the dogs put up.”
    “Coming, Mom!” I shouted back. “Let’s go, Tom. Come on, Lisa.” Tom was thirteen and I was fourteen. Lisa, our little tag-along sister, was almost six.
    It was Friday afternoon. We didn’t usually start chores this early, but maybe Mom thought it would take Tom and I longer since the three boys had to clean their room. Had it been some other job than our usual evening chores of taking care of the two horses, the chickens, and the dogs, I might have grumbled, but I like the animals.
    Leaving the shade of the trees, Tom and I jogged across the yard toward the barn with Lisa following like a shadow. As the only girl, and a rather cute one with brown pigtails, big brown eyes, and a few freckles over her nose, she was spoiled and teased and loved and bossed around by all of us boys. She stood it all pretty well and could give as well as she got most of the time. At least as well as someone her size and age could give. There were times when she’d pull the trump card and threaten to tell Mom if one of us wasn’t being nice, but she almost never did.
    “Lisa, I need you in the house!” Mom called again.
    I glanced over at Tom and gave a slight grin. If Lisa wasn’t around, we would get the chores done faster.
    “I’ve got the chickens,” Tom said, knowing that while I liked animals, putting the feathered fowls to bed was my least favorite job.
    “Thanks.” I jogged to the pasture and whistled for the horses. Since the weather was getting colder in the evenings, we’d started putting them in the barn for the night.
    It wasn’t until I was latching the gate of the dog’s kennel that it dawned on me just how early it was and how odd that we were doing chores already. And it wasn’t just the chores. We only put up the dogs if it was time for bed, company was coming over, or we were leaving.
    “Hey, Tom,” I called, striding over to my brother who had just finished taking care of the chickens. “Do you remember Mom saying anything about anyone coming over or us going somewhere?”
    Tom secured the door and shook his head. “Don’t remember anything. Why?”
    “It’s not even five-thirty, why did she tell us to put the dogs up?”
    He shrugged. Tom wasn’t much for talking if it wasn’t necessary.
    “Race you to the house.”
    Tom and I were even until the last few yard, then Tom pulled ahead. I can beat him in wrestling or anything to do with heavy lifting, but he always beats when it comes to speed.
    Inside the old farmhouse kitchen, we found Mom and Lisa bustling around packing a cooler.
    “Are we going somewhere, Mom?” I asked, eyeing the food already packed.
    “Yes.” She lifted her head and looked us both up and down. “Change your shirts and wash up. And check in on the boys, will you?”
    “Sure.” We left the kitchen and took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. Tom headed right to our room to change while I made a stop at the boy’s room. Funny to think that we all called Bob, Joe, and David “the boys” even though Tom and I are boys too. That’s just the way it was though.
    “Bob, Joe, David,” I scolded, finding them messing around instead of cleaning up. “Get this room cleaned up. Mom said we’re going somewhere tonight.”
    “Where, Randee?” David asked.
    “I don’t know. Mom didn’t say. Now get to work.” I waited a moment until I was sure they were actually working and then went to the room Tom and I shared. Tom was already buttoning a clean flannel shirt, and I grabbed one from the closet.
    “Where do you think we’re going?” Tom asked.
    “No telling. You know Mom.”
    Mom was always coming up with random things for us to do or places to go. Sometimes we’d take a picnic into the woods on our land, or drive to a local park. We’ve picked up trash in Grandma and Grandpa’s neighborhood before, and another time we drove two hours and went hiking at a state park and ate our supper in the parking lot. I used to think it was to take our minds off Dad being away on deployment, but we do random things when he’s home too. Maybe Mom just likes spontaneity.
    “Bob, Joe, David, your room had better be cleaned up in two minutes because I’m going to come check it,” Mom called up the stairs.
    I shared a grin with Tom. It was almost never just Bob, or Joe, or David. They were usually called together. It was almost as though they shared a joint name: Bob Joe David. Sometimes our last name of Manning was tagged onto the end if they were in trouble or about to be in trouble.
    Mom’s voice interrupted my thoughts as I tucked in my shirt. “Tom, Randee, I could use you down here.”
    Our shoes thudded on the wooden stairs. “What do you need, Mom?” 

 

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