Dawn on Jefferson: Chapter One, Getting up

I wrote this story for my daughter when my exwife and I started our divorce. Because I couldn't be with my daughter all the time and she loved the Percy Jackson books, I decided to write something in that vein, albeit in space. Hence, the story. It was written for an 11 year old, so do keep that in mind. It is set in the same universe as The Maze of Madison. Different world though. I'll be posting this M-F until its wrapped

Chapter One: Getting Up

"nnnn. Nooo. Go awaaaay." I burrowed under the covers to try to hide. My only hope was the covers would have given me enough protection from the maniacal onslaught.

No such luck.

Gooberface was trying to wake me up. That was so annoying. Gooberface burrowed through the covers to find my ear again and Gooberface's raspy tongue went back to work. Abrasive cat sandpaper utterly destroyed my attempts at going back to sleep.

I flailed around trying to make the furballed twerp waking me up stop. There's an indignant 'merlp' as I flailed and flopped and made my best impression of a fish out of water and he backed away. However, the blanket was off of me, thrown over to the side like a mound of disappointment from the lack of finished dreams. And Gooberface was halfway to victory.

I could hear Gooberface purring in self-satisfaction. That adorable toad wrapped in fluff! That was more infuriating than I can put into words, at least that early in the morning. With vastly irritated wordless sound that only a girl on the cusp of teenagerhood could make, I grabbed that mound of covers and pulled them back over me.

Gooberface hissed as I mummified myself, cocooning my every extremity for protection and pounced on me. Like a kitten on too much coffee, Gooberface bounced and pounced, pounded and pawed, kneading and scratching on my blanket log roll and tried to claw me to get me out of bed. I imagined the roan furry fury as it attacked and vented its frustrations upon my comforter entombed self.

No luck for him! ha!

Comforters were pretty tough and thick those days and neo-cats claws are no match for modern technology! Ha! I giggled and Gooberface hissed his indignation again. I am supposed to be up and its his job to get me up today, obviously, but I was NOT getting up and now I was mocking him. This caused him to redouble his efforts and I know I shouldn't have been getting as much pleasure out of this as I was, but, well, I most definitely was.

Uh oh. He started to spit. Had he been an adult, he'd have been yelling at me now. This would not end wel...OUCH!

He found a way in and scratched my head. THAT CAT! THAT HURT! I bolted upright and reached to grab him. He's no bigger than a classic cat, but far smarter. He was, however, just as fast and he easily dodged my grasp. Again, my indignant cry - I needed practice to get really good at them - and I was about to go after him! I would have taught him a true lesson about who was the pet and who was the owner…when Dad came in.

"Come on, kiddo. Time to get up. You're taking too long and we won't be able to walk to school today unless you hurry up."

It was THAT day. Crud. I needed to hurry. Otherwise it meant going to school like all the other kids and I didn't want to do that today. Only those in town get to walk to school normally and I like the distinction of being the only one not a townie to do so.

Well, sorta not a townie. When I was out here with Dad, I wasn’t a townie. Mom lived in town and when I was with her, I was…a townie. Meh.

I clambered down from my bunk bed - all kids sleep in bunk beds! at least those who are smart - and started getting dressed. Shucked the PJs and stood staring at the dresser. What to pick? What to wear?

Well, there's what I wear when I get to school and there' what I wear over on the walk there. Leggings and shorts. A cute top. Brush the hair. The hair is long and infuriatingly cannot make up its mind whether its blonde or brown. At least it’s not red. I'd hate that. Mom would hate it more, but at least she’d not have to wear it! It's also long, which I like, except when I have to wash or brush or braid it. Like now.

Socks. Mustn't forget socks. I pulled them on. It’s a bit of effort. Everything those days was tougher than what Dad described from when he was a kid. Harder to put on socks and harder for something to get through them. Or chew through them. And in our town, on Dad’s farm, that's pretty important. Then I was out of the room.

A hop, skip and jump and I was in the kitchen. Dad's made eggs. He does them ok. Not as well as mom does, but they're edible. There's some coveted green chile at the table. Grown here - carefully! - and we roasted them every year. They seeds were from New Mexico originally, some small town specifically. Dad can go on and ON about it. Where didn’t matter so much to me, just that they that taste good.

There's a side of bacon, a glass of juice and a glass of milk. Mom said Dad gave me too much to drink in the morning. I kinda agreed. However, he's my Dad and what can you do? I started to eat and Gooberface mewls at me. Dork. Snuck him a bit of bacon when Dad's not looking. I snarffled it all down as fast as I could without hurting myself or making myself sick. And then to the bathroom.

Brushed my teeth. Washed my face. Looked in the mirror. Some days I wished Dad'd let me use make up. Other days, I definitely felt I wanted nothing to do with the “fashion girls.” When I stayed with Mom, no problem if I wanted. Not Dad. He rathered his little girl would stay a little girl. HE said I ought to act my age and not grow up too fast. He just wanted me to stay his baby. WHATEVER.

And I was ready to go. There was no need to look for my little brother. He's with Mom today. Last night was a Daddy-daughter and a Mommy-son night. I met Dad at the front door. We grabbed the outdoor clothes: thick and tough, something like leather, but tougher and synthetic. Pulled on the coat. Zipped it up. Dad’s already ready.

We opened the inner door and do a quick look. We also listened. No sounds of the zappity zaps of the bug laser working, so then we stepped through. Gooberface mewled a sad goodbye that caused me to give him huggles and kisses. Then we closed the inner door. We did one last check, jacket sealed to pants. Everything zipped. I checked dad. He checked me. We're good. We had to be.

The nice thing about modern clothing, at least on Jefferson, was that it was actively cooled. I could have zipped from top to bottom and even covered my head, but the clothing had micropumps in it to move minuscule amounts of very efficient fluid around to cool you off. No noise, no sweat, no fuss. Unless it was gym clothing and we did our gym workouts inside. I hae seen pictures of middle school kids running around on Earth on green grass outside in shorts and a tshirt. Here on Jefferson, you might as well put a taxito lure on and scream COME EAT ME AND DIE.

We opened the outer door and he threw a drone up into the air. It’s a bitty personal one. It arced up and drooped down before its mini rotors kicked in. It sat and hovered above. Then it chirruped in our ears everything is good. We stepped out and onto the grass. The violet grass. Not that weird green stuff on Earth.

I looked up. Through the brightening green sky, the two moons are amazing. They always were and always will be for me. Wayles and Hemmings. The sister moons. One dark, one light. The light one wasn’t really light. It was just more reflective than the other. Hemmings was the same color as the Earth’s Moon. Wayles was actually slightly red and reflected more sunlight. Hemmings was closer, but Wayles was brighter.

As we departed, the strange calls, the strange cries of morning rang out, just another morning. The morning smells nauseating and delicious, beautiful and enticing, wretched and rotten wafted through and past us. Small animals, sorta animals, but not those of Earth - Jefflife animals! - scurried in the bushes and trees and took flight. The smells and cries and sights of the morning on Jefferson, a world 165 light years away from Earth. My home. And I loved it dearly.

Hi! I'm Aurora and I was in the 6th grade on another planet around another star during my first adventure. It’s nice to meet you.