A New Start

All I could do was stare in awe at the countryside flying before my eyes. Because I had grown up in the city, I'd never seen so many farms and grazing farm animals. Cows were more plentiful than cars. Dirt roads outnumbered office buildings. Even people were far and few, I was sure I'd only seen two or three. Farms were everywhere, full of growing crops as well as a few farmers tending to their fields.1

Grandma's house can't be far now, I thought. Hours had passed since we'd been sitting here in this car, driving by tiny town after tiny town, farm after farm, in search of the small cottage belonging to my mother's mother. I had not been very eager to come to this isolated, unheard of little town in the middle of no where for more than one reason, one of which being that I had never even seen Grandma Jennings, who was famous for being least personable grandmother in the whole wide world; all of my cousins, both older and younger, loathed to come to her house, and even her own children stayed their distance because she just so cold, so unlikable, and simply hated the mere thought of company or people coming to visit her, though occasionally they were forced to. Jeez, just when I thought getting away from the summer would be a good thing...2

Knowing that I couldn't stand his beloved country music, Uncle Dan kept the radio off the whole ride. Lonely silence filled the car, broken only occasionally by a weak stab at conversation about the weather or an equally pathetic comment. More than likely, Uncle Dan felt uncomfortable with the niece he'd never had a proper conversation with sitting beside him for hours. Never had I met someone more socially awkward than myself, but he sure took the cake. Once he picked me up at the airport after having a cheery conversation with my mom, he seemed to not know what to say to me anymore. Perhaps he never had much experience with teenagers; I knew he and Aunt Debbie had never had any children themselves.3

Quiant farmhouses seemed to be the only thing around here, and when Uncle Dan suddenly slowed down in front of one of them, I barely even noticed it until we pulled in the long driveway. Red paint was chipping off of the big, ancient-looking house and the barn looked like it might break into pieces with the next gust of wind. Seeing that this run down place was even worse than what I'd imagined, my heart dropped towards my gut. Twisting my jacket between my hands, I got out of the car while he fetched my bags from the trunk. Uncle ___ opened the weather-beaten door, surpsassing my sluggish pace even with my two heavy bags in his arms. 4

Very slowly, made my way towards the old house with a sense of unease. Wind blowing hard on my back forced me farther forward, and I gulped as I neared my destination. Xoanon, worn but clearly carved around the doorbell, distracted me, just like all little things distract me when there's something I'm dreading ahead of me. You've gotta go inside, I told myself firmly, and stop hesitating, because you've gotta go in eventually.5

Zedoary, that sharp, gingery smell, wafted from inside the house, reminding me of home; invigorated and calmed slightly by the familiar scent in such an unfamiliar place, I took a deep breath, and crossed the threshold.