By RS Luebben
Chapter One
Dirt road, Grandma's bike, middle of nowhere, Bugs in my nose, in my ear, and on my last nerve. As if I wasn't already a sea of aggravation. Spending my summer break at my grandparents cabin, not my winner for best idea dad. He's just been on roll, rolling my life down a steep cliff and gaining momentum. The divorce, moving from the only childhood home I've ever known, changing schools, possibly never seeing my friends, the hits just keep coming.
As if there wasn't going to be enough pressure entering my Sophomore year of High School. Now I get to make new friends on top of it, oh goodie. Do you think my father will notice the way I'm peddling with anger or just my general bitchy attitude? I hope it's the latter. In fairness my bitch levels tend to start at a seven, so maybe not. I love my grandparents and all but it just isn't the way I wanted to spend my summer. Could have been going to uptown or around Lake Harriet. Instead I get to hang out with loons, the water birds not calling out my grandparents, as well a mosquitoes and all of their closest cousins. Apparently My father doesn't trust me enough to take care of my self while he has to travel for work. I swear he's the one who needs looking after. He was gone most of the last school year and I end up doing most of the cooking and cleaning any ways. Forgive my winey attitude but I'm jumping out of my skin. Not to say it isn't beautiful here. The fall trees turning deep, reds, yellows, and oranges. Grand Marais's cute little shopping areas and the Lake Superior harbor views are all that they've been every time I've come here. I've seen them, they're great, now I'm bored. To make things worse, my grandparents don't even have Wi-fi. I know what you're thinking but it's often the only way to keep in contact with my friends. The areas where you can make calls, text or use the internet are scarce. You have to go into Grand Marais to do so and my grandparents don't seem keen on taking me there everyday. I'd bike into town but as bad as I complain I'm not that motivated to do so. Let's just say I wasn't blessed by genetics or God in the sphere of athletics.
I've already been up here a week and I've been sentenced to serve at least three more weeks while my father looks for a new place for us. My wondrous mother has decided to spend her summer running off with her latest boy-toy and divorcing my father. They are in Europe, a place I've always wanted to go but would I want to share a vacation with them, Hell no. My poor mother deciding that she was going to focus on her needs at the expense of everyone else. I'm not bitter about it though. It's not as if I want to kick her in her lady balls, oh wait-I do. I spend the days going on walks or bike rides. Sometimes we go on road trips to State Parks or into Duluth, which is like time traveling to the present compared to around the cabin. Duluth is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever been and they have a mall. Yes, a mall, and I don't say that because I'm a female. I say it because they have books stores with cafes, clothing shops but most importantly other teenagers. Grand Marais is nice but it's mostly adults walking around dressed ready to go to a Beach Boys concert. They have the "I'm on vacation look," which means they look stressed out. If they are like my family, they are arguing about where they should go to eat or what to do next. It's the little things that must become an event level disaster of a discussion. I think because of my father's recent relationship status change my grandparents have been taken an easy on him this trip. He will be leaving tomorrow and so the last of the day trips and sightseeing will be wrapped up. Then I get to look forward to spending my time playing board games and beating my head against a wall with boredom. My grandfather has mentioned something about going to the Boundary Waters with him for two weeks but I think he was just kidding. I am hoping so, for spending two weeks alone with your grandpa in the middle of the woods sounds like a banger of a party. Not at all awkward right? The Boundary Waters is a body of land and water, bet this, that are at the boundary of the US and Canada. You are not allowed to use motorized vehicles and have to backpack or canoe every where. That's what I've been told for I really wasn't paying much attention. I mean he can't be serious about camping like it's the 1490s right? As if it wasn't backwater enough here at the cabin. If you hear of a girl who was eaten by a bear this summer, then I guess my grandpa was serious. I suppose I should be peddling my ass back to the cabin before grandma Charlotte tans my hide from being late for dinner. She's like the best cook in the world and to be honest it is the best part of being up her. My father isn't a great cook, in fact he's terrible. Don't tell him I said so for he means well, but terrible-really terrible cook.
My grandpa Harrison is a great guy as well and I don't mean to be such a brat around him. He can be grouchy himself so the two of us make a great pair of A-holes. To be honest I probably get it from him. The rough sailor language I am so fond of is also an inherited quality passed down from him as well. The lights of the cabin are in my view and thoughts of grandma's strawberry rhubarb crisp are making me peddle faster. So I'll probably gain like 50 pounds of all the sweet treats but who can resist homemade bakery cooked with love?
Chapter Two
