With a sigh, I checked to make sure the ebook Aaron gifted me three years ago was tucked deep inside my notebook. Secure and hidden, I knocked on the door and announced, "I'm home." as I pushed the door open.
"Welcome home," my uncle called out from the living room. He was sitting in his wheelchair, working on something for my dad on the computer, his back to the door. I could see the tension in his shoulders as he typed away.
I took my shoes off and placed them neatly by the door, in their spot, leaving space for all my siblings and father. Walking up to him, I asked, "How was your day?"
My uncle sighed and looked up with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. "Good, finishing up the purchase orders and reports for the month. We're well within our budget." He seemed proud of the accomplishment.
I forced a smile. "That's good." Internally, I griped—not like I got any of that extra money.
My uncle released the brakes on his wheelchair and nodded towards the kitchen. "Did you ask your mom what she needs help with around the house?"
I followed him to the kitchen, shaking my head. "No, sir. Just got home."
"Well, hop to it." He looked over his shoulder, his eyes filled with kindness despite his firm tone. "I'm sure she has a thing or two for you to do before dinner."
I couldn't get mad at him. He was tough, but he had a good heart. "Yes, sir." Nodding, I ducked into the bathroom to wash my hands.
With my hands clean, I went in search of my mom. "Hey, Mom," I said when I found her in the kitchen, her hands deep in a bowl of dough. "What do you need help with?"
She looked up at me, her face warm and welcoming. "Um, if you could check on the chickens, rabbits, and goats for the evening, that would be wonderful. You're home first, so there's plenty to do out back. I'll send more hands as they arrive."
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes, Mother." Grabbing my muck boots, I headed out the back door, where our dog greeted me with a bark and a happy dance.
"Hey there, girl! You're happy to see me? Me too, but I can't play right now." She seemed to understand and instantly turned her attention back to the edge of the property, resuming her watchful duties without a second thought.
As I carried out my chores—throwing feed to the animals and cleaning up their messes—my mind drifted to thoughts of what lay beyond our village. How could I ask my parents about exploring other towns and cities? Surely, they'd have some advice or guidance for me. It wasn't unheard of for people to leave our village; many even relocated to find work. But for me, as the eldest, it was almost as if staying here was expected.
I walked up to the house, my muck boots caked in dirt and animal filth. Hosing them down, I left them outside on the rack upside down to dry out. As I entered the house, my siblings' animated chatter filled the air along with the smell of baking bread, their excitement over teenage matters both amusing and mortifying, given my own memories from just a few years ago.
"Hey, Mom," I called as I found her in the kitchen, her hands busy preparing dinner. "I'm done with the chores. Want help with dinner?"
"Sure," she replied with a warm smile. "Set the table, please."
"Sure thing, Mom." My heart hammered against my chest as I walked around the kitchen, laying plates and utensils on the table, trying to muster the courage to bring up what was on my mind.
"Hey, Mom," I began hesitantly, picking at the edge of a plate. "You aren't from this town, right?"
She looked at me, a sly smile playing across her face. "No, I'm from two towns over. Are you thinking of going to find yourself a bride? Eager, aren't you?"
My cheeks flushed crimson. "No, Mom, I was just wondering what your life was like there in that village?"
"Oh," she said, her smile softening. "Well, in many ways, it was similar to this one, but smaller. At least, it was when I was growing up. A tornado ripped through it, killing a lot of people. But that was before I was born. Thankfully, we received some money as donations from people in other villages and even some of the cities to rebuild. This town seemed so big to me when I first came here. My village had about 300 people living there when I left." She paused, studying my face. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm just thinking about the world and how big it is," I said, shrugging nonchalantly. But inside, my thoughts raced at the prospect of exploring new places and the possibility of a life beyond what I'd always known.
Mom gave me an understanding look and nodded. She walked to the hall leading to the rowdy group in the living room, yelling, "Someone gets your father; dinner will be ready in five minutes!" From the living room, a chorus of voices argued about who was going, but someone called out, "Okay, I'm going." The front door opened and closed as the rest of my siblings filled into the dining area of the kitchen.
"Drinks and bread on the table," Mom directed. "When Dad gets here, I'll put the pot of stew on the table. Everyone, make sure to wash your hands. I mean it this time!"
My siblings sighed and turned to execute the orders. I could hear them bickering over who would get the bread while I fetched the pitcher of water from the fridge. It had an assortment of citrus fruit floating in it.
"Welcome home!" Mom's voice came, blushing a bit as my dad walked through the front door. With noise only a big family could make, all my siblings, Dad, and Uncle filed into the kitchen, taking their places around the table. Dad walked up to Mom, offering, "Want me to put the pot on the table?"
"Yes, dear," she said with a smile. He nodded, gave her a quick kiss, and grabbed the big pot. Mom brought over the ladle as I took my seat.
"Moment of silence for grace," Dad announced. We all bowed our heads, and after a few seconds, he said loudly, "Grace." Then he opened the pot of stew.
As I sat there, listening to the various conversations of my siblings in uncharacteristic silence, I felt a sense of anticipation for what lay ahead. I had something important to ask my parents. My youngest siblings were complaining about having to go to school, wanting to just get on with working. My parents chastised them for embracing their childhood while they had it.
"Y'all are supposed to be learning and enjoying your youth," Dad said, "You'll have plenty of time for work later," I smirked, looking at my next oldest sibling. We heard that phrase a million times.
"Besides," Mom added, "you're already helping out around the farm."
Uncle chimed in then, bringing up that the farm was well within budget for the season. Dad smiled, nodding his approval. "That's good news. Makes things easier for all of us."
"What are we planning for the winter?" Mom asked, her eyes scanning the table as if expecting someone to provide a plan on the spot. The siblings threw out their suggestions, from stocking up on firewood to ensuring our animal shelters were well-insulated, building a greenhouse or two, and buying some books or movies or games. All the while, my mind raced with thoughts of traveling beyond our village, wondering how to bring up my desire for adventure without causing too much concern.
As dinner ended and the last bites of stew disappeared from our plates, I finally mustered enough courage to speak up. "Dad, did you ever have a desire to travel beyond the village?"
He looked at me with piercing eyes, his fork pausing mid-air. "I did. That's how I met your mother, after all."
My cheeks flushed red; why did they always jump to that conclusion? "No, I mean... like, to other villages or maybe even the city..."
Dad chuckled and set down his fork. "Oh, I've been to other places, son. I had to travel for the farm and for the village business. I've been to most of the villages in a 40-50-mile radius around ours. Been to the big village for business too. But life is nice and simple here, peaceful and safe. That's why we chose to live in this village – it's the best environment for you kids to grow up in."
I glanced around the table as my siblings fell silent, watching our exchange with keen interest. Mom nodded in agreement, while Uncle seemed disinterested. He pulled a paper book with the library stamp on the front page from his wheelchair pocket and started reading it, earning a disapproving glance from Mom.
I shook my head, barely able to find my voice. "What about for longer than just a business trip? Or not for business at all?" As I spoke, I saw my siblings exchange wide-eyed glances.
Dad sighed, rubbing his forehead. "There's always one in the litter," he muttered, then turned to my uncle with a grin. "Two in our batch, I guess." They chuckled together, sharing some inside joke I didn't understand, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
"Are you thinking of trying to see the world?" Dad asked me, his tone serious now. I swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah, my friend Aaron is having an art exhibit or competition or something this weekend in the big city. It's about 60-70 miles away, I think."
Dad smiled, a nostalgic glint in his eye. "Yeah, I get it. I was young once as well."
Mom frowned, her brow furrowing with worry. "But that place is full of crime."
"And he's an adult," Dad countered firmly.
"But he doesn't know anyone," Mom insisted.
"He'll meet people." Dad's voice held a note of finality. I raised a finger timidly.
"I know my friend, Aaron. You met him once."
Dad laughed, recalling the memory. "See? He knows Aaron. Wait, is that the cyborg kid who does deliveries sometimes?"
I nodded, feeling relief that they knew someone I'd be with but also anxious under Mom's stern glare. I glanced at Dad and saw a slight frown at Aaron's name.
"It's better for him to stay here," she said, her voice tight.
Dad chuckled, shaking his head. "Holding your skirt till you or he dies isn't the way of a man. If he wants to go, there is a tradition that allows our young to experience the world. He's old enough to execute his rights."
Mom pursed her lips, clearly unhappy, but she didn't argue any further. Father was the father, after all.
I couldn't believe it was so easy to get permission. Adulthood had its perks. Grinning, I said, "Thank you so much, Dad. Can you give me a ride?"
He laughed, and my uncle chuckled. My uncle mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, "Here it comes..."
"Son," Dad said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "do you know why you're allowed to go?"
"Uh, because I'm an adult?" I replied uncertainly.
Dad nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. "That's right! And as an adult, you can figure out how to make it there and back. I'm not sure you'll make it for this weekend, but you're welcome to try."
"Wait," Mom yelped, her expression incredulous. "Do you expect him to walk?"
"Why not? I walked to your village when I was his age." Dad and I said in unison, grinning at each other.
Mom huffed, taking turns scowling at me and Dad. Her disapproval was palpable, but she seemed to have run out of objections. Dad's grin softened into a more earnest expression as he looked at me. "But son, don't succumb to evil. Your mom is right. It is dangerous out there. But you are an adult and will have to learn to navigate it sooner or later. Remember your roots and remember your upbringing."
Mom scowled at unfazed Dad. I glanced at my siblings, noting the mix of awe, wonder, and doubt plastered on their faces. None of them had ever seen me challenge Mom's authority like this before.
"Alright," Dad said, standing up. "After you help your mother clean up, come to my office."
Without another word to me, he got up, kissed Mom with a "Thank you, dear." and walked out of the kitchen. My uncle followed him, rolling towards his favorite reading spot in the living room. I was left with my siblings to help mom clean up.
I got up, the siblings following my example, and cleared the table. Mom didn't look at me as she put the leftovers into glass containers and put them away in the fridge.
As I handed the last plate to my youngest sibling, who was scrubbing away at the dishes with determination, I felt a sudden tightness around my chest. Mom had come up and wrapped her arms around my torso, hugging me so hard that it became difficult to breathe.
"Mom," I gasped, feeling her hot tears on my chest as she buried her face against me. I'd never quite noticed just how short she was until this moment. Gently, I patted her back as she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion.
"Please be careful, my baby. I want you to come home. Please don't get lost in the world. Don't succumb to evil."
I hugged her back, my own throat tight with emotion as I croaked out my response. "I will, Mom. I'm not sure how quickly, but I'll come home."
Mom let go of me and gently pushed me towards the door. "Don't make your father wait too long." I nodded and walked in that direction.
The room felt colder than usual, the dim lamplight casting shadows on the walls as I stood across the table from my father in his office. The family safe was open, and Dad walked over to it, his hands hovering over its contents, a slight tremble betraying his emotions. He looked at me, his eyes dancing between pride and worry.
"Son, since you are going," he said, sighing deeply, "you are going to need your government identification. We don't use those things here, but out there in the bigger world, they do." He handed me a card that looked nothing like the simple, plain items we used in our village. Its surface shimmered with holographs, and it felt strangely cool to the touch.
"Make sure to keep this safe and never lose it," he cautioned, his voice heavy with concern. "Second, if you decide to stay longer, keep in touch. Here's how you can contact us." He passed me a simple index card. On it, I read a string of numbers, letters, symbols, and a set of four lines with the family name at the top and the name of our village in the middle. It was like a code waiting to be deciphered.
"That's my phone number, email, and mailing address. Here's a bit of money," Dad said, handing me a small stack of coins. "Have your friend take it to a bank and get some currency. It won't be a lot. But it will be more than nothing."
"Thanks," I muttered.
He walked around the table and smothered me in a bone-cracking bear hug. I returned it with half effort.
"I'm proud of you, son," he whispered into my ear. "Just please, I beg you, don't succumb to the temptation of evil."
I thanked him again, my heart pounding in my chest, and retreated to my room. It was the room I shared with my male siblings. Our sister had her own smaller room. They still had more space per head than we did.
I packed my few personal belongings into my backpack, careful to secure the gifts from Dad in an inner pocket. As I copied the information from his index card into my notebook, my hand shook slightly.
Without waiting for my siblings to return, I crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow was going to be big for me.