Chapter 3 The Farmhouse

1211 Words
  KAT   I stare out of the window, watching the landscape change before my eyes. My father and I are moving from the beautiful mountains of New York to what can only be described as the barren wasteland that is Texas. I haven't seen a mountain, hill, or mound of dirt in over a thousand miles. There is nothing but sky as far as the eye can see. It is overwhelming how vast the sky is here in Texas.   My father has been humming along with every song on the radio, whether he knows it or not, for the past week, and it is beginning to drive me insane.   "Oop," my father says before cutting the wheel and causing the tires to screech. "I almost missed the turn. We are here."   My eyes dart out the windshield as we drive down a long dirt road. Dust kicks up under the tires and creates a haze around the car that makes it difficult to see. Dad finally puts the car in park, and I am practically humming with excitement.   I hop out of the car, and I take in the expansive landscape that surrounds me. A run-down farmhouse sits in the middle of a massive yard. A porch wraps around the bottom level of the house and the white paint is peeling off of the siding. The tin roof is rusted and in desperate need of repair. I wrinkle my nose, wondering what the inside of the house must look like if the outside looks this bad.   To the left of the house, a large red barn sits by itself in the distance and looks to be in better shape than the farmhouse. It is surrounded by rows and rows of fencing. Black and white cattle are grazing in a nearby pasture, and a beautiful black horse is among them. The barn doors are opened wide, and I can see someone inside shoveling hay into troughs.   Dad walks up beside me and bumps me with his hip. "What do you think?"   "Mom would have loved this place," I say sadly.   "Your mom WILL love this place," his voice is angry as he accentuates the 'will,' and he stomps off, leaving me standing in the front yard.   Sighing as I open the back of my father's SUV, I pull out several boxes and begin to carry them inside the house.   Kicking the front door open with my foot, I yell out to my dad. "Which room is mine?"   "The master is downstairs," he yells from the kitchen. "You have your pick of rooms upstairs."   The wooden stairs creek under my weight with each step that I take, and I worry about them breaking. Dropping the boxes at the top of the stairs, I open the doors one at a time. Each room is basically the same. Wood flooring, outdated wallpaper, and one window. Everything is covered in dust and grime, and the floors groan under my steps.   Trailing my fingertips along the wall, I open the door at the end of the hallway and instantly know that it is my room. Light floods the room through glass doors that lead out to a balcony above the porch on the side of the house. The wooden floors are the same, but the walls are a simple gray color with white trim around the windows and doors. Two doors sit on opposite sides of the room. One door leads to a huge walk-in closet, and the other to a small bathroom with a clawfoot tub, free-standing sink, and toilet.   "I'm picking the room at the end of the hall," I yell down to my dad, and I can hear him chuckle to himself.   I spend the next three hours scrubbing the room from ceiling to floor, removing all of the grime that has been collecting for who knows how many years. Stepping into the center of the room I look around and am pleased with the work I have done. The large glass doors are sparkling, the floor is shining, and no more cobwebs are lurking in the corners. Giving the room a final nod of approval I search for my father.   Despite the conditions of the house I cannot help but feel a little excitement as I rush through the house. "Hey, Dad," I yell as I bound down the steps. "I am ready for furniture…" But that excitement soon fades when I see my father on his phone in the kitchen. He holds up a finger, pausing me in midsentence.   "I told you that we are moving into the new house today…" he speaks slowly into his phone. "Yes, Sir. I understand how important this project is… Yes. I will be in shortly." Letting out a frustrated sigh he gives me a pathetic smile.   Before he can say anything, I hold up my hand. "It's fine," I try to lie convincingly. "I will just make a bed on the floor tonight." I shrug my shoulders and fight back the tears that threaten to fall.   "How did I get so lucky as to be your dad?" He says as he pulls me in for a big hug. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor. Just ask Luke to help you?"   Cocking my eyebrow at him, I cross my arms across my chest. "Who is Luke?"   "Oh, right." He chuckles hardily. "I don't know how to run a farm, so I hired a guy. Mid-twenties, strong, seems to know what he is doing. He lives in the apartment above the barn. Here's some cash for pizza."   I stare at him with my eyes wide open. "You want me to spend the rest of the day with the stranger?" My dad stares at me in confusion. "You want me to spend the rest of the day with a MALE stranger?"   "You are an adult now," he shrugs his shoulders as he grabs a bottle of water and walks out of the house.   "Who are you, and what have you done with my father?" I yell after him, and then something else he said pops into my mind, and I run out of the front door after him. "What do you mean he lives above the barn?"   Dad stops before getting into his car. "There is an old apartment up there. He said it would be fine." Hopping in his car, he throws his hand out of the window as he drives away.   Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell after him. "I'm not Letting anyone live in a barn. It's barbaric." I am not sure if he hears me or not, but my mind is set.   Turning on my heels, I face the barn and see a tall figure leaning up against the barn door, smoking a cigarette. I cannot help but groan internally; smoking is such a bad habit. Maybe I will let him live in the barn after all. I look from the moving truck to the house and back to the barn. I know there is no way that I can move the furniture up the stairs on my own. Swallowing my nerves, I set off across the yard. "Maybe I can make a new friend," I mumble to myself hopefully.
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