Itty Bitty Stories

Strawberries and Oranges

Strawberries and Oranges

I’m always the first one up in my house. Well, its only me and my mom, but still. I’m always the one that’s out of bed before eight. My mom, on the other hand, likes to sleep in till at least nine. I’m the early bird that loves watching the sunrises; I hate sunsets. My mom’s the other way around. She doesn’t like to rise with the sun, but she’ll gladly set with it.

I don’t know why she doesn’t like to get up early; isn’t that what farmers do? They rise and shine real early to feed the animals? I dunno, maybe not. But that’s what I do. We own a farm, but it’s not where we get our money from. My mom goes to work at a office that’s far away from where we live, which is why I mostly don’t see her during the week. 

We don’t have that many animals on the farm. Just a couple of pigs, chickens, horses, and cows. I have three dogs too, and two cats. I’m the one that takes care of them all. My mom wanted to get rid of them all when my grandpa died; he was the one that owned this farm. We lived with him and I took it over. My mom wanted nothing to do with it, but I’ve lived here all my life, so I felt I needed to.

So, around 7:15, I get up and take a shower. It’s in the middle of summer, so I’m glad I don’t have school. I’ll be a senior this year. It gets hot out real fast, so I dress in jean shorts and a tank top. It’s what I usually wear each day. I tie my brown hair back into a ponytail, and throw my cowboy boots on.

I eat some cereal, and then head out to feed the animals. I don’t have to feed the cows, they eat the grass. The pigs get their slop, the chickens get their grains, and the horses get their hay. I do it each morning because I know my mom won’t. 

When I head out, I look to the empty house next to me and stop dead in my tracks. This house has been empty for about five years. The house shares the farm with us, it’s only us two. But the family that lived there moved out when I was 12, haven’t seen them since. They use to take care of the farm with me, but now I do it alone.

The house hasn’t been touched since then. But now, the lights are on, there’s a big moving truck outside of it, and I can hear people talking and bustling around. I squint my eyes at it, trying to see in, but I see nothing. The curtains are in the way.

Then the front door opens, and out comes a woman with dirty frizzy blonde hair. She’s in a grey skirt that looks too tight and a dress shirt. She’d look like a fancy business woman if it weren’t for that frizzy hair. She’s scowling and yelling at one of the moving guys.

When she’s finished, she looks over at me and all anger retreats from her face. I know who she is and she knows who I am. “Callie? Is that you?” Her southern voice is still there, but barely.

“Mrs. Rover?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yes, dear, but honey, call me Sandy!” She chokes out, rushing down the three porch stairs in her heels to come and hug me. “Oh, sweet pea, how I’ve missed you! Look how tall you got, oh my goodness! You’re so gorgeous!”

She pulls back and a tear is running down her face. I smile greatly at her, so happy she’s back. The Rovers use to own this house and they were as sweet as can be. My mom and her would hang out together over the weekends before they moved out five years ago. I never thought they’d come back.