A Thirst for More - Chapter One

Almost there!

It's been a long slog across the country. Marv and Betty are lovely folks, to be sure. I mean, not just anyone would be willing to help ship a brand-new college freshman and his stuff all the way to the East Coast for the year. And yeah, I guess they make pretty good conversation - for the most part. But it's pretty embarrassing not to be able to pay them back somehow.

"If it's free or if it's a cow, milk it." Dad's caustic witticism echoes in my mind as I contemplate the tree-studded scenery streaking past the van window. Yeah, at least he has no problem accepting charity. Because no matter how you slice it - no matter how many times these two repeat their assurances that it's no problem, that they were headed to see their grandkids anyway - well, it's still charity. Freeloading. Leeching off others.

"Ten more minutes, according to the GPS," Marv calls into the rearview mirror, flashing me a grin. "Bet we'll all be ready to stretch our legs, huh?" I nod and give a tight-lipped smile. Dammit, they're so nice. Though it's probably just them being all good and Christian and whatever, trying to earn brownie points in heaven by helping their heathen neighbor....

After all, if they really took me seriously, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't still be hearing them asking God to guide young Adrian and keep him - emphasis on the masculine pronoun - safe from the temptations of a dark and evil world.

Well, whatever. Guess they do care in their own way. And really, whatever power there is or isn't up there, I suppose their prayers can't hurt, right?

***

"Why, hello theah! Shuah, come on in! 'S a lovely moah-nin', huh?" I blink, unaccustomed as much to the accent as to the sudden darkness of this woman's seemingly antiquated home. Not just her antiquated home. My antiquated home too... I guessed. At least for the next year.

I can't help but cast a quick glance around the entryway and the rooms beyond it. Seems like we're here in some sort of combined dining room and kitchen, the counters half-full with the ordinary clutter: coffee maker, mixer, water pitcher, toaster, you name it. It's a dark sort of place, the light from the few windows easily sucked up by the dark wood paneling and cupboards. Beyond and to the left, I catch a glimpse of what must be the living room, seemingly chock-full of overstuffed furniture and tables full of knickknacks.

"Ristroom? Yeah, threw theah an' ovah on the roight," Mrs. Fenoli responds to Marv's query. Old guy problem, I guess; feels like we stopped every hour on the way here But now that he's disappeared, my new landlady's eyeing me now, looking me up and down with a brisk, businesslike stare. And of course, I can't help but blush and extend my hand. This is what I'm supposed to do, right?

"I'm Adrian, Adrian Webb. Nice to- to meet you." Her hand is in mine as I speak: cool and slightly wrinkled, but still strong despite her evident age. I'm smiling politely, and find myself observing her too despite my awkwardness. Glasses; pale grey eyes; short, low-maintenance grey hair; shorter than my five feet and nine inches, but not by much. She looks every bit the part of the stern, healthy grandma. You know, the kind who would sooner feed her grandkids carrot sticks than cookies.

"So you gonna be my new boahdah, are yah? Lovely!" She sounds pleased, and I hope she really is. I don't think I've done anything to offend her, but then again... Maybe she's just being nice? "Long roide from- where yah say yah from? Illanoise?" I nod emphatically. "Yeah. It's, um- good to be here..."

Thankfully, by then Betty's already stepping forward to introduce herself and gush about how much she loves those gorgeous cast iron light fixtures on the porch.

My awkwardness lessens a bit once we're finally unloading my stuff. Turns out my new room is up on the second floor of this ancient farmhouse, and the narrow staircase that creaks and groans beneath our weight isn't doing us any favors. Thank god I haven't brought anything more sizable than an inflatable bed, a small table to serve as a study desk, and a creaky office chair no one at my old high school wanted. Even so, Marv and I are puffing as we maneuver everything up and under the slanting ceiling of my new room.

Still, I'm the last person on earth to complain about anything. And really, as I catch my breath and look about my tiny new abode, I must say: it could be a lot worse.

***

It's almost lunch time by the time Marv and Betty are finally ready to head out - but even as they head for the exit, Betty's enthusiastic questions keep the conversation chugging along. "See, my husband passed four yeahs ago now," Mrs. Fenoli is saying, and I suddenly recall the family portraits that line the hall. "It's pretty empty 'round heah, an' my dwaghters don' visit that often. Busy with careeahs, ya know." We step onto the porch of the gorgeous light fixtures, and I blink in the bright sunlight. "So it'll be real great havin' someone young roun' heah again..." I grin politely, feeling I should say some sort of socially acceptable nothing in response, but of course Betty has it covered.

"Oh, but of course! It's going to be such a wholesome place for him to live, too. You know, away from the campus and all those other wild young folks..." Holy crap, to hear Betty talk you'd think the entire world was out to corrupt my apparently weak moral character. "We really just can't thank you enough for offering like this. It's just so difficult to find really good, trustworthy people these days. And rent here is just so expensive, too...!"

It's only when their van has slid out of sight around the curve that I can stop my internal wincing. I feel drained - as much from their overbearing good will as from my own grudging sadness at seeing one of my last links to home disappear. But there's no time to dwell as I usually do. I'm bracing myself anew as we step back toward the door. I need to be polite and nice, put on a good front for Mrs. Fenoli, let her see how proper and studious and responsible I am...

"Well then, she shuah is a tawkah, inn't she?"

A lopsided grin escapes me at her wry comment. And somehow, deep inside I feel something relax the tiniest bit. Only time will tell what sort of person she'll shape up to be. But right now, I can't help thinking I might just get along with her pretty well.