System Architect

While the sound of the TV was rather distracting and slowed my reading down, that distraction was welcome when I was fulfilling the physical quests. Every time I finished a chapter of the book, I did sets of 10 for both push-ups and sit-ups before repeating the process. It didn’t take too long before I was done with the reading portion and moved on to writing between sets. By the time Grandma called down that lunch was ready, I had completed both quests for 40 experience.

I sat with Grandpa at the kitchen table while Grandma put all the dishes out for the meal. Unlike I had grown used to, they had their biggest meal in the middle of the day rather than in the evening. Today’s meal consisted of a squash soup, mashed potatoes, sautéed vegetables, and braised pork shoulder with a mustard sauce.

We talked as we ate. I tried to be somewhat messy while eating as I had been when I was younger—less of a challenge than it might have been given my still developing coordination. Talking the right amount was a lot harder. I wanted to not talk since I’d speak like an adult, but if I didn’t talk at all, that would be strange, too. I knew I didn’t pull it off too well, but at least they didn’t ask any questions.

“That was delicious, Dear,” Grandpa said when we were done.

“Thank you,” I added.

“You’re both welcome,” she replied. “Can you help me clean up, Eddy?”

“Yes, Grandma.”

Grandpa excused himself and went outside through the back door. I picked up my plate and bowl carefully. Slowly, I walked to the sink and deposited them on the counter top. Back and forth I went, ferrying the dishes to the sink for Grandma to clean.

“Why don’t you go outside and see what Grandpa’s doing?” she suggested when I had given her the last plate.

I mentally shrugged as I headed outside through the same back door as Grandpa. The back yard was large and well kept. Grandma had an extensive ornamental garden ringing the yard. On the right side of the yard was a small line of forest that separated their property from an apple orchard. On the left was another section of forest between their house and their neighbor’s. In the far back of the yard, beyond a small group of trees, was where Grandpa’s fenced food garden sat. At about half an acre, it was large enough to provide most of the vegetables they ate through the year—including some especially juicy sweet corn in late summer. Given the time of year, that’s where Grandpa’d be.

I walked across the grass and followed the flower beds to the left towards the gap that would bring me to Grandpa. The flowers were in bloom and smelled even more strongly than I remembered. A light gust of wind shook pollen loose from the trees in a cloud of yellow-green that looked like it would be a devastating poison gas attack if it were in a game.

As I rounded the corner at the end of the yard, I saw Grandpa pushing a machine to break up the soil for planting. Some of the food garden already had sprouting plants, but other areas were barren or covered in things that needed to be tilled under before that section could be planted. I walked to the gate and waited for the racket to stop. There was no way I was getting his attention between the machine and the hearing protection he was wearing.

Five minutes later, Grandpa saw me. His face brightened. He shut off the machine and took off the hearing protection before beckoning me inside. I was glad I could hear myself think again.

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked Grandpa as innocently as I could.

“I have to prepare the soil so the plants grow well,” he explained. He pointed to the sprouting plants nearby. “Some plants handle the cold mornings better than others, like those peas and beans. This field of corn won’t get planted for another two weeks so I’ll be busy amending the soil with good compost.”

“Amending?”

“Adding. The compost helps give the plants more to work with when they grow, and adding it to the soil makes them healthier!”

I nodded. I already knew this, but he was passionate and knew a lot beyond the absolute basics. I hoped he could teach me more over the years he had left before he passed and before the apocalypse arrived. Having the knowledge to grow food would be incredibly important.

“Can I dig?” I asked as innocently as I could.

Grandpa handed me a hoe and carefully instructed me on how to build rows of raised earth from the tilled soil. I contented myself with building the neatest row I could over the next half hour. All the while, I kept going over my plan for what to unlock. Every option had me second-guessing all of the others. I really needed to talk to Dad or Mom—if I could get in touch with her somehow—or probably both.

When I was done with the row, my body needed a rest. I placed the hoe against the fence and waved to Grandpa to let him know I was leaving. It wouldn’t do me any good to have him searching around for me and interrupt whatever I was doing at the time. Much better to take the few seconds to allay future fears and the problems they would create.

I wandered around the house when I came upon Grandma weeding her garden. I watched her pull up the unwanted plants for several minutes before I contented myself by rolling down the hill in the front yard. I knew there was no more questing I’d be able to do for the day and I didn’t know the next time I’d have a chance to really let loose and act like the child I was supposed to be. Rolling down the grass, dizzily standing up, then falling down trying to climb up the hill… that was top-notch fun!

A couple hours later, I went inside to the kitchen to clean up. Grandma was starting to prepare supper—sandwiches and a salad—and I intended to help her. Grandma set me to work separating the leaves of lettuce and rinsing them in the sink. I dried them in the salad spinner—a task I fondly remembered. I put a lot of effort in to see just how fast a salad spinner could go. When it was shaking and dancing all over the counter top, Grandma decided I had finished my task and dismissed me.

I wandered down to the basement to gather my books and watch some TV until it was time to eat. It was mindless fun that ended too quickly.

“Supper!” Grandma called from above barely thirty minutes later.

I took my things up with me knowing that Dad would be picking me up shortly after dinner. I placed my bag by the door and walked into the kitchen. Three plated sandwiches—each with its own nearby salad bowl—lay in front of three chairs at the kitchen table. I took my seat at the round table and waited for Grandpa to lead the prayer.

I was never religious myself, but neither was I so anti-religion as to make a scene over what amounted to—in my opinion—empty words with an admirable sentiment. It was always good to be thankful for being alive one more day. With my recent run-in with some kind of powerful something I wasn’t questioning whether or not a higher power existed—it certainly appeared to—but rather just how many powerful beings were out there and how much of a shitstorm it would be when they—or their influence—appeared on Earth. I had a sneaking suspicion that was another aspect of the apocalypse beyond just the requisite hordes of monsters.

I put off further contemplations of divinity for a later date and dug into my salad. Grandma had added a rather tasty garlic-and-mustard vinaigrette over top the mix of lettuce, red cabbage, and sliced grape tomatoes. The juicy lettuce and the sweet tomatoes contrasted well against the bite of the vinegar and the spice of the mustard. The oil did its job of making it all go down smoothly.

The sandwich came next. Mine was a ham and swiss on rye with mayo. It was a favorite of mine in spite of the light mayo my grandparents preferred for being ‘healthier’. Yeah… it wasn’t healthier on the whole and just plain tasted weird. With a mental shrug, I shredded through the sandwich. After all, the rest of the ingredients were positively scrumptious. I talked with my grandparents while we ate, but I kept my interaction with them to a minimum to try to stay under the radar.

When we were finished, I helped bring the dishes to the sink for cleaning. There was a dishwasher in the kitchen, but Grandma insisted on cleaning the plates by hand for some made-up reason. It wasn’t the only unused appliance in the kitchen either. Grandma also refused to use the microwave—something about how the microwaves would cause the food to be radioactive or whatever. A completely novel interpretation of how the device worked. For a smart and traveled woman, she had some interesting ideas.

“Want to play some cards while we wait for your father?” Grandpa asked when we were done cleaning up.

“Sure,” I agreed.

He sat down at the kitchen table with me and Grandma and shuffled the deck together while explaining the rules. It was some variant of Gin where the object was to play out runs of the same suit or of matching numbers until no cards were left in hand. At that point, all players would score based on the cards they played out and subtracting from the cards left in hand. It was a game I’d played with them many times over the years, though this might have been one of the first times I’d done when I was younger.

I looked at the cards I was dealt. The hand was alright—something I could win with if my grandparents played as they usually did. Grandpa was a decent player—he struck a balance between playing out everything and hiding enough to prevent the rest of us from using his plays to help our own. Grandma, on the other hand, always went for the big surprise play, and it usually cost her the game in the long run. I was on the side of minimizing my losses, even if it meant I didn’t score as much as I theoretically could have. I won a lot more for that simple strategy.

When I won a hand, I was surprised to learn that it counted as completing a puzzle for the daily quest. Winning a hand didn’t take all that long—maybe ten minutes—but I also wasn’t guaranteed to win every hand, nor did I think that anyone would want to sit around for hours just for the quest. Not to mention that I had no idea if the System would count it if they let me win.

At any rate, after around 5 hands, Dad arrived to take me home.

“Sorry I’m late,” he explained. “The job took longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry,” Grandma said. “We had a fun time with Eddy today, right Eddy?”

“Yup!” I agreed.

“Well, thanks again for taking care of him.”

“Anytime,” Grandpa smiled.

“Well, come on Eddy. Let’s go home.”

I nodded and followed Dad to the car with my bag of books.

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” I said when we were comfortably on the road to our house.

“Yep,” he nodded.