The plane smelled like apple juice and stale crackers. I hated it more than the smell of dirt. More than the smell of grilling burgers. And even more than the sound of a rumbling tractor. I never used to hate those things back in our large apartment in Los Angeles, California. Back where the sun beat down on me in my bright blue bikini and yellow sunglasses. Back when my friends would splash me from the public pool. Now I’m on a crowded, smelly Delta plane on my way to literally nowhere. And by ‘nowhere’ I mean Madison, Wisconsin. Farm country, Madison, Wisconsin.
“Would you like some juice, Hannah?” Dad asked, taking a sip of his own sugared coffee.
“No,” I grumbled, and turned to look outside at the dark starry night from the plane. The stars were bright, and shone against the harsh black sky. The moon was the only thing that illuminated the dim plane., and it was pretty against the tinted, frosted windows.
“Suit yourself!” Dad shrugged, and flicked on his reading light, flipping open a magazine called ‘So… You are Getting Cows?’ “Do you think cows will like sugared coffee?”
“Probably just water, dad,” I chuckled softly, imagining cute little cows ordering Java Chip Frappuccinos at the local Starbucks.
“Yeah, probably.” Dad smiled, probably just happy he made me smile. The entire four hours of the plane ride, he had been attempting to do so, and at four hours and five minutes, he had succeeded. “What will you name your cow?”
We were moving on a farm for my dad’s new job. He used to own five Pizza Huts in California, but he decided that becoming an agricultural specialist would be a much better job for him. We would own six types of animals: Cows, horses, pigs, chickens, sheep, and goats. Nine of each, and one of each would be considered ‘mine’.
“Not sure yet. I’ll have to see the cow first.”
“Probably name him Vogue or Prada,” Dad joked.
“Haha,” I laughed dryly. “You know, I’m not that shallow, dad.”
“Yeah, sure. You and your Coach purse.” He motioned towards my brown leather purse with pink trim.
I refrained a roll of my eyes, and instead took a bite of a tasteless cracker.
      fffff
As the plane landed, I closed my eyes and imagined what our new home would look like. Hopefully a classy farm home, with a gorgeous garden and a big backyard with lots of trees. I imagined what mom would say about this whole farm thing. She would be excited, so excited. She would be the one to name her cow Angel, to remind us of our old home. She was always one to keep all the pictures, and tell stories around the campfire on the cool July nights. She would be the one to clean the second we entered. She always needed things tidy. In a way, though, cleaning is what killed her.
I imagined all this as we left the airport, and got into a taxi that drove us to our house. Apparently dad paid extra for that. It will take him some time to get used to the whole walking thing. He isn’t a huge man, but owing a pizza company doesn’t exactly keep you skinny. Dad has long brown hair, and icy blue eyes. His hands were smooth, but I expected that to change quickly.
I’m not saying I will be perfect right away. The smell of the pigs… The taste of manure on my tongue whenever I stepped outside… That would be hard.
We pulled up to a medium sized house with stone gray paint, hardly touched, and very new looking.
At least on the outside… I thought as I grabbed three suitcases and dragged them to a small bedroom which must have been mine. There was already a twin sized bed, and a huge window. There was nice sized closet… But that was it. It certainly was pretty, with its hardwood birch flooring and pale blue paint. I glanced wearily at my suitcases, wondering if I even had the ability to spice it up a bit. I decided I would unpack my bags in the morning, but I would at least make my bed tonight. I placed down mint green sheets, a mint green blanket, and a black and white Chevron comforter. I put a white fluffy pillow against the curving metal bars of the headboard, and set two mint green pillows with the captions “Wow!” and “#Power” against the white pillow. I sighed happily, amazed at my careful work. I almost didn’t want to get in bed.
“Nice,” Dad said, entering my room with a grin. “We can change the paint color, your bed doesn’t match it very well. Maybe a cotton candy pink would be nice in here.”
I nodded my agreement. “That would look good with the green, too.”
Dad was a man who wasn’t afraid of getting messy, but he was always a designer at heart. It was dad who had helped set up my room back in LA, not mom. It was a great balance. Almost fun to have a girly dad.
I crawled into bed despite my inward complaints. I wanted to continue my decorating, but the long plane ride had drained all my energy, and it felt like rocks were covering my eyes, weighing them down. I looked longingly at my purse, where a dirty, mangy, stuffed animal rabbit lay inside. It had been with me since birth… And it was all I wanted in my new home.
“You want Rover?” Dad asked gently, his hand hovering over the light switch.
I hesitated before nodding slowly.
Dad slowly walked over to my bedside, and unzipped my purse grabbing Rover and setting him next to me. “Thirteen and still with a stuffie,” Dad teased.
“Ah, come on dad. Rover is special to me!” I toyed with the pink rabbits worn-out tail, staring at Rover blankly.
“I know it.” Dad ruffled my dirty blonde hair, and stood up, quickly turning off the light. “I’m going to be in my room, on my computer if you need me.”
I said nothing, and just turned on my side. The sound of the country was deafening. Crickets singing their song, the buzzing of the frogs mingling, and owls hooting was too much for me to handle. I was so used to cars honking, people cursing, and blinding lights of the city, that the peacefulness of the country was just… terrible. I could hardly wait until the morning sun.