puffy_wuffy: bunnytongue (Default)
[personal profile] puffy_wuffy
Finally, the Turners signed the rest of the paperwork with the realtor and met with the realtor to work out all of the tiny details, such as a mutually agreed upon move-in date.  Marge decided that her family could move in on the day after the Harolds moved out, that’s also what she called them, ‘the Harolds,’ and preparations began for the Harolds in earnest.  Weeks flew by with Rold selling what he could online, Harold tossing out more and more of his own detritus, and Harry and Hare duking it out over what was important to bring regarding tools versus kitchenware.
The day of the move came and the Harolds dragged themselves out of their sleeping bags to greet their last morning in their former home.  The next rising sun would find the Turners depositing all of their worldly goods in the space, making it their own new home.  
Rold stowed all of their sleeping bags in the back of the wagon, on top of all of the clothing, linens and books they had decided to keep and also his computer, well protected by all of the soft, surrounding materials.  Hitched to the back of the station wagon was a decently sized orange and white trailer, big enough for two mattresses, a disassembled kitchen table and a few chairs, not to mention quite a few boxes of books “for padding.”  A couple of fold-up bookcases had made it in as well, a well-timed series of purchases Rold had made before they had finalized moving details.
In the end, they had been forced to left bits and bobs behind or rather recycled, upcycled, donated and sold things.  Much of Harold’s paraphernalia had been decided against being moved, as he was officially retired:  of all of the scientific things, he had only kept the robot. Hare’s larger tools had been sold online, so he only had a small kit of tools, most of which were for the car and light household work, and not carpentry.  Rold wanted only his desktop and his laptop and had made concessions regarding everything else, even being able to choose snacks for the trip.  With few hobbies besides keeping himself alive, Harry needed to bring his comforts:  pillows, hot water bottles, tea and various tea-related implements, clothing for all weather and vitamins.
When they did finally find a home, they could search for furniture options, since having only a few beds and chairs would not do in any place, no matter how antisocial they wanted to be.  When Hare had jokingly mentioned living like college students, Rold had taken him seriously.  With only Harold’s pension to tide them over for a while, and the income from the sale of the house being utilized for both the move and a new house, sitting on crates and making their own or using older used furniture were very good options.
Rold sat on the front step, waiting for the others to finish saying their good-byes to the old house so they could all hit the road.  From the porch, the neighborhood was quite charming:  beautiful and bustling in the early morning sun.  They had decided a week ago to head to a sanctuary state, buy a small house and take their chances together.  As a plan, it lacked a certain sophistication, but it was better than waiting for Immigration or some kind of crazy random investigator to come calling.  In any case, a good deal of the pieces would have to work out on their own.  He fidgeted, pouted, the longer they waited, the less he was sure he wanted to go, the sooner it was over and done with the better.
Hare lingered overlong in the garage.  The empty shelves and areas looked perfectly clean.  Closing it with the flick of a button for the last time, he plodded the asphalt over to the car and slung himself morosely into the driver’s seat.  Nodding at Hare, Rold entered the car, too, making a space for himself and Harry in the back seat.  A few snacks and drinks were in the back seat, something to tide them over for the long drive, the longest they had ever taken. The drive would make Hare’s donuts in the ballpark’s overgrown car field seem like tiny ant trails.
“How long do you think they’ll take?”  Rold pointed over to the house, indicating Harold and Harry.
Taking a deep breath, Hare gripped the wheel.  “Long enough for me to get my courage up.”
Attempting to be reassuring, Rold stated, “You’ve driven on the freeway . . . the highway . . . the interstate.  All over.”  Shifting tacts into comedy, Rold deadpanned, “For something that supposed to go between states, there sure is a lot of interstate within the state, am I right?”
“Yeah, right.”  Hare said tensely.  “Lots of it.”
“So, no problem.”  Rold threw his hands up behind his head and leaned back into his seat.  “No need to be nervous.”
“Except, there’s a trailer.”  Hare released the steering wheel and turned back to face Rold.  “I’ve never driven with a trailer before.”
“I bet Harold’s never driven with a trailer before.”  Rold shrugged.  “None of us have.”
“What if I crash?”
“You won’t crash.”  Rold screwed up his face in thought.  “Well, you might crash, but in this old thing, I doubt anything too bad would happen.”
Hare exhaled loudly.  “What if I call attention to us on the interstate and they pull us over?”
“We have driver’s licenses.”  Rold leaned forward to look him in the eye.  “Everything will be okay.”
“But . . .”
“Everything will be okay.”  Chuckling, he covered his face with a hand.  “I’m the least likely person to be giving you a pep talk right now.  Harry’s better for it.”
“Not that either of you have driven.”  Hare sighed.  “Which means I must be really nervous, asking you for assurance.”
“Just relax.”
“I’m trying.”
“If this is the part that freaks you out, getting a job is going to be horrible.”
Leaning his head against the wheel, Hare groaned.
Inside, Harold did a second to last sweep of the second floor of the house.  Since they were leaving the curtains and rug intact, he wanted to make sure they looked reasonably nice.  Harry patiently waited on the stair landing for Harold to finish rushing about.  After all, the sooner they hit the road, the better.  The drive would be long enough and the longer they waited the more likely it became that they would run into traffic.  
Harry went up, found Harold and pushed him towards the stairs.  “Come on, the others are waiting.  It’ll all still be here.”
Their descent was painless.  Both of them glanced around one more time at the living room, which, devoid of most of their personal effects, appeared to be an alien landscape.  Light through the bay windows, shone through the curtains, guiding their eyes to the spots were things used to be, a chair here, an end table there.  Harry exited first, leaving the door open for Harold to use.
“Good-bye.” Harold closed the door of the house he had once owned and strode, with more purpose than he had mustered earlier, to the passenger side.  His robot janitor (retired now, of course), whom he had after much thought finally named Five, was already set in the seat.  Carefully, he pulled the robot up, sat down and placed the robot onto his lap.  Buckling his seat belt, he asked Hare, “Ready?”
At Harold’s word, Hare started the car, turning the key in the ignition.  With a gentle roar, the station wagon came to life.  Yet, he did not make a move to shift the car forward.  Hare gripped the steering wheel and licked his lips nervously.  “I have one problem.”
Rold and Harry shared an amused look in the back seat while Harold tapped his fingers against Five.  Harold mused, “What’s the problem?”
“I’ve never driven with a trailer attached.”
“You hitched the trailer yourself.”  Harold pointed out, trying to maintain a neutral composure.
“Yes, but I’ve never actually done  it.”
“Neither have I.”
“Told you!”  Rold waved from the back seat.
Harry hushed Rold.  “We have to let them work it out.”
Silently, Hare turned to appeal to Harold’s better self.
“Fine.”  Harold grumbled.  “But you’re driving once we get off the interstate.  You’ll hold Five?”
Hare nodded emphatically, quickly undoing his belt and jumping out of the vehicle.  Harold handed Five over.  Climbing out of the car, he watched in amusement as Hare re-settled into the car.  
Harold set the car into first gear.  “Here we go.”
In this way, our intrepid heroes set off into a brand new world:  afraid and excited, but together.  None of them looked back as the automobile shifted them away from their old house.  The station wagon broke free of the confines of the suburbs to blend with other cars on the highway and then on the interstate.  Harry fell asleep once they hit the interstate, the gentle motion of the car had lulled him into a nap.  
There were still unusual things to stare at:  overpasses and underpasses, many lanes and many other cars, some with trailers and some without. Rold and Hare both had the opportunity to peek at the strange oddities to their heart’s content since Harold remained driving in the slow lane, dragging the brightly colored trailer behind them.  Certainly, they would not be ticketed for speeding.  Hare flicked the radio on, but Rold and Harold could not agree to a station:  classical was too moldy-oldy and anything newer minded would have the hippity hop which upset Harold greatly.  They tried to listen to talk radio, but it was less interesting than the changing scenery, most of which they might never see again.  The monotonous repetitive noises of the car and trailer, whooshing and clanking in syncopated rhythm,  filled their auditory space with white noise.
As Harry woke from his light slumber, Rold asked the inevitable, “Are we there yet?”


puffy_wuffy: bunnytongue (Default)

November 2010

  1 2 3 4 5 6
7 8 9 10 1112 13
14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 2324 252627
28 29 30    

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:53 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios