Hero's Call

Chapter Nine

It had been a week since Milo had started his paper route. It had required him to wake up earlier than he ever had in his entire life. It was somewhat of a shock to him to find out that there was a four o'clock in the morning as well as one in the afternoon. He was not surprised to find that the only people up beside him at that time of morning were the elderly, birds, and his mother. Every morning for the past week, Milo's mother had been waiting for him with a hearty breakfast. Milo didn't know if she always got up that early, or if she was so concerned about him getting a good breakfast to start the day off right that she adjusted her sleep schedule just for him.

Milo dragged himself out of bed with all the effort he could muster. He'd heard that once you got into a routine it would get a lot easier. When that would be, he didn't know, but he assumed it would be never. The only real motivation for him to torture himself with the early morning wake ups was the money that came from it. He'd been living off a weekly allowance from his parents for the last few years. His current wages were considerably more. It being his first week, he had yet to receive a paycheck, but he knew how much it was supposed to be, and was excited about the sudden upturn in his income.

He walked down the Hall of Fame and into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and took a quick shower to wash away the remnants of sleep that were still hanging around. Showered and refreshed, Milo walked back down the hall to his room, dirty clothes in hand. The temperature was starting to drop outside as autumn was setting in, and the house always had a bit of a chill to it that early in the morning. The left over droplets of water on his skin tingled as the cool air past over his body.

Back in his bedroom, Milo threw his dirty clothes next to others that were on the ground. He dropped the towel next to the clothes and walked to his dresser that was against the wall. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of plain, forest green boxer shorts and pair of mismatched socks. Milo kept all of his socks separate in the drawer so he seldom wore a matching pair. He pulled a pair of jeans out of the bottom drawer and slid them on over his boxers and socks. He pulled a t-shirt out of the closet and threw it on. He grabbed his jacket from a hook on the back of the door and left the room.

Milo was greeted in the kitchen by the smell of cinnamon sugar oatmeal and bacon. His mom already had a plate set on the table for him. He plopped down in the chair and began to eat without saying anything to his mother who was standing at the sink washing dishes. He downed the oatmeal almost without taking a breath, and scraped what was left over up with the last couple of strips of bacon. He got up from the table and put the dishes on the counter next to the sink.

"Thanks for breakfast, mom," Milo said, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

"Say hello to the Blackwell's for me," Brooke replied over her shoulder as her son left the room.

Milo walked into the hall that lead to the garage and slipped on his sneakers. He went into the garage and waited for the garage door to open while he grabbed his bike. He left the door opened for his father who would be leaving long after him, and headed down the street towards the outskirts of town.

The Blackwell's lived about ten minutes outside of town by car. For Milo, it took about a half an hour to get from his house to his employer's house. Milo found the early morning bike ride quite refreshing. It was a chance for him to see his small town at peace, something he wasn't normally used to experiencing. He loved the sounds of the birds chirping, and the crisp cool air. He hated being awake that early, but the ride was quickly becoming his favorite part of the day.

When he pulled his bike up the Blackwell's house, he left his bike leaning against the fence that ran around the perimeter of their front yard. The Blackwell's would never be a feature in Good Housekeeping, but it had a certain hominess to it. The fence was missing several planks, and their front yard had bits of this and that scattered about. In the flagpole that was mounted on a banister of the porch Ohio State Buckeyes flag. In Ohio, if you weren't a fan of the Buckeyes, you weren't a true Ohian. Mr. Blackwell lived in a fantasy world in which he had been a star quarterback for the Buckeyes in his youth, winning them six national titles. More than any one person could achieve, given that it's only a four-year school for most people.