The Snowblower Bandit And Other Stories

Ownership

I entered the kitchen late one morning to find everyone cooking eggs and bacon. It was late fall, but we had an early snow, so the warm kitchen felt cosy.

I'd spent the morning out at Papi's...I mean "our," little house starting some bread rising, watching the sunrise, shoveling the path to the back porch of the main house, checking the rabbit tracks to see if they were still living under the shed, climbing a tree with peculiarly low branches just because it looked inviting, going back inside to see if CeeCee was awake (and cuddling with her for a while because she wasn't), baking the bread when she got up, joining her in the shower, and finally cleaning up the kitchen while CeeCee went ahead to help her family with breakfast.

"Want me to make you some fried bananas?" CeeCee asked when I came in. She looks so happy to see me. I mean, we were just together cuddling and showering! Papi handed me a cup of coffee. He always looks happy to see me, too. I feel like I smile too much now. People always told me I smile too much, but I never felt like I did. Now, I'm not so sure. Nobody seems to mind, though.

"No thanks. I think I'll make myself some oatmeal." CeeCee gave me a kiss on the cheek and went back to scrambling eggs. She always wants to make sure there's a vegan option for me. It's one of the many things that make me feel loved.

I got the feeling The Adults were having a serious conversation when I came in. Every now and then her parents and Papi would discuss something about the business of the winery, the house, etc. CeeCee has started to get in on some of these conversations since she's been thinking more seriously about taking an active role in the business Papi started so many decades ago. She's pretty much decided to get a business degree. I tease her about becoming one of The Adults. As for myself, I barely pay attention. For one, I'm not very adult-like when it comes to worrying about finances, contracts, land purchases, long term agricultural planning, etc. For two, it doesn't feel like my business. It's CeeCee's family's business, and I'm happy to keep my nose out of it.

She's Wendy. I'm Peter Pan.

"It's going for one tenth the price it could. I mean, it's a total fluke. In this market it'll go for who-knows-how-much." CeeCee's dad sounded like he was trying to talk himself into something.

"I know, but what would we do with it?" Her mom wasn't trying to talk him out of whatever it was. It was an honest question.

I got the oatmeal and measured it out into a bowl.

"It could be a rental," CeeCee offered.

"I'm not doing that," her dad said with some finality. "It's just on the other side of the field. Whoever lives there will be our closest neighbors. I'd rather know that someone we like was living there long-term."

I measured out the water and got out the raisins. I sprinkled a handful in and mixed it up before popping the bowl into the microwave.

"How much land is it?" CeeCee asked. "How many acres?"

"Just three." Papi put up three fingers to make sure he was understood.

"But if we owned it, the easement would be moot. We wouldn't have to worry about anyone putting a road in right next to the south field," CeeCee's dad added.

While the oatmeal cooked, I considered whether or not I should put in sweetener. I decided not to. I was in a simple food mood this morning. Just oats and raisins for me.

CeeCee's mom wondered aloud, "What kind of shape is the house in if it's going so cheap?"

"That's the thing," her dad said. "It's in great shape. Newer roof, good siding, a basement that doesn't get any water...Sure, it needs some updating, but it's far from a fixer-upper."

He went on to describe in detail why the house was going for so little. Time of year, bank stuff, family didn't want anything to do with the old man who lived there because of how he treated their mother... It all sounded like a terrific mess.

I didn't really listen. I considered my oatmeal. Did you know oats are believed to be pretty ancient? It's one of those weeds that got bred to be better and better until it became a staple. It dates back to the fertile crescent.

"So it sounds like it's too good to pass up, but we don't really need it." Her mom was getting in on the talking-herself-into-it.

"Seriously," CeeCee insisted, "for what you could buy it for, you could rent it pretty cheaply and still make money."

I sat at the table with Papi. He smiled at me. I smiled back at him. We do that. We seem to agree that sitting together to have a meal or a cup of coffee is really a much more wonderful thing than most people seem to appreciate. We appreciate it, Papi and I. So we smile at each other.

"I just don't want that hassle," her dad pleaded. "Being a landlord means fixing stuff that goes wrong, making sure everything is up to code, dealing with renters, updating the place so you don't become a slumlord...plus your taxes get more complicated."

I took a bite of my oatmeal with raisins. I thought about how raisins were first cultivated in Mesopotamia as far as we can tell, probably 6-8000 years ago. The first winery we know of was from around 4000 BCE. That would have been about the same time oats were being cultivated in something close to their current form.

Her dad thought out loud. "If we knew some young couple we trusted who was willing to do the upkeep and updating, we could buy it and rent it to them for the cost of the loan and taxes, which would be extremely reasonable even over 15 years. Over 30 it would be almost nothing! That would give us plenty of time to decide what to do with it. We could even just gift it to the people if we liked them. We wouldn't be out anything, and the easement would be gone."

"What about Brian?" CeeCee's mom suggested CeeCee's brother, her own son, somewhat hesitantly, as if she knew they would laugh. They did.

"Brian can barely change a light bulb," CeeCee scoffed. "And there's no way he would take care of that huge lawn."

"So what are the chances we could find someone, or a young couple, capable of slowly renovating a house who wants to live practically in our backyard someday?"

Since grapes and oats were domesticated at roughly the same time, that means a young girl much like myself could have been sitting in that earliest known winery eating the exact same meal I was eating. I felt like there probably was, and that we had a connection. She probably sat there thinking about how 6000 years in the future, a young girl would be sitting at a winery eating the exact same meal she was eating. Was she pretty? Silly question. All girls are pretty. She would probably have black hair and darker skin. She would take one look at me and wonder if I was some kind of supernatural creature as pale and blonde as I am. Would she think I was hideously ugly? Unearthly beautiful? Just funny looking?

I noticed that everyone stopped talking. It had been silent for a while now. I looked up to see everyone staring at me.

I waited for someone to say something, but nobody did.

"What?" I said, with a mouthful of grain and fruit.

So, long story short, my girlfriend and I sort of own a house. A real house, not a tiny house in the backyard of a real house. Not that I minded the tiny house at all! I loved it, in fact, but it wasn't an Adult house.

Brian moved into Papi's little house. He used to whine about not being the one who got Papi's house. Now, he whines about not getting the "big" house that CeeCee and I moved into.

I guess some people are never happy.

I do home improvements, and CeeCee works at the winery. I technically do, too, I suppose, but I don't think about it like that. I just...do what I do, like I always have. CeeCee's family keeps telling me it's helpful and that they like having me around.

It's a great house, and I love living here with CeeCee, but it feels weird. I mean, not long ago I came to terms with living a semi-nomadic lifestyle where everything I own could fit into the back of a Jeep. I started to really like that. Now...I live in a house. I keep thinking of the old adage that you don't own your stuff, your stuff owns you.

If that's true, I'm bought and paid for now.