A Different World

Flash Fiction

A Different World

“Look, I found a picture of your great grandfather!” Mom called to Tim.

“Which one did he belong to?” Tim asked, holding it up.

“My side,” said Mom, “The one with the turkey farm.”

“That was at Linda’s house, right?”

“Sort of. The same land, I don’t know about the house, they changed many times, I don’t know if there’s any house parts left from when Grampa and Gramma lived there.”

“Where were the turkeys?”

“Up back, behind the pond. Where Linda and George built the greenhouses. That’s where he’s standing in the picture.”

“It looks so different. Is Gramps smoking a cigarette?”

“No, I don’t think he ever smoked, and it was certainly popular when this picture was taken. They didn’t know how bad it was for you then.”

“Well, what’s that in his mouth?”

“I’m sure it’s a stick. He used to chew on a stick.”

“Gum?”

“No, a real stick, like from a bush or a tree!”

Tim laughed, “I’m glad they invented gum! How did he keep the turkeys under control out there, it’s very swampy.”

“He had pens, see that straight piece there? That’s probably a gate. Sometimes he made gates out of old tires, a broken wheel, anything that he could move but the turkeys couldn’t get over.”

“Don’t turkeys have wings? Why don’t they just fly over?”

“I’m not sure, but Grampa always told me turkeys are not very smart. Apparently, they know they can fly a little bit, but unless they accidently flew over a fence, it would never occur to them that they could fly over a fence. When one accidently did. Grampa just picked it up and put it back.”

Tim laughed, “It was a different world then, wasn’t it,” he said.

“Seventy-some-odd years ago, it sure was!”