The Quill Lakes' Catastrophe: Ayden's Adventure

Chapter 1

E
leven-year-old Ayden squirmed in his desk seat, unable to focus on Mrs. Y. Chorney’s lesson. He swiveled his head around to look at the clock hanging on the classroom’s back wall, only to be disappointed. The hands had only moved three dots since he had looked last. With a sigh, Ayden turned to face the front again, slumping impatiently in his seat when he caught sight of his twin sister, Mya, paying attention, as usual. He knew she would be anxious for dismissal, too, because today was dance class for her and their younger sister, Alyxa. Ayden would not be tagging along, he was going combining! He had already finished his math page and turned his attention to what he could see out of the classroom window. The cobalt blue sky was cloudless and the sun’s rays warmed Ayden’s back. He could see a few parents’ vehicles parked at the curb waiting for Wynyard Elementary School’s dismissal bell to ring. At exactly 3:20 the bell buzzed and the once

quiet classroom came to life. Papers rustled, children chatted and above the noise Mrs. Chorney raised her voice to remind the students of an upcoming quiz. Ayden grabbed his backpack, yelled a good-bye to his favorite teacher then sprinted toward the school bus. Despite being first to his seat, he knew the bus would not be moving until all of the students climbed aboard. He hoped everyone was as anxious to get home as he was.
After what seemed like the slowest ride home EVER, the bus stopped in front of Melsted Farms. Ayden raced both of his sisters off the bus and ran all the way to the house. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his backpack, then quickly changed from his school clothes into an old tee shirt, jeans and brown coveralls. His running shoes laid on the rug because this job called for work boots. He no longer needed help lacing them up and when he finished, he plucked his John Deere cap off its door knob perch and bolted out the back door with his Mom in hot pursuit.
“Ayden get back here,” she said sternly.
Ayden stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes. He didn’t think he would be lucky enough to make a clean getaway. Turning around to face her he replied, “What Mom?”
“How about you take a snack with you?”
“Oh, okay,” he replied, reluctantly walking back into the house. He grabbed an apple from the brown, pottery, fruit bowl that sat on the kitchen island and took the two cheese sticks his Mom held out for him. He made no secret of the fact that his Mom’s interruption was annoying, yet he admitted to himself that he was lucky to have a mom who took such good care of him. With his snacks stuffed into his side pocket, he ran down the four steps and jumped on his mini-quad. With a turn of the key, the engine purred and Ayden was off to where the trucks were emptying their huge loads of grain.
Ayden’s Papa John was standing beside the large truck watching the auger suck up the grain and spit it into the small, round opening on top of the storage bin. The young boy parked his quad close to a shed, well out of the way of the trucks and machinery. In busy harvest time, safety awareness was especially important and Ayden had heard the speech many times. Papa John gave his grandson a smile and a friendly wave, motioning for him to climb into the truck’s cab. Ayden hoisted himself onto the well-worn seat. The truck stunk like dirt, grease, dust and grain, many of his favorite smells. It was hot in the cab and Ayden cranked down the window hoping to feel a breeze. The loud motor of the auger stopped as Papa John closed the opening at the end of the truck box and climbed into the cab. Once inside, he pushed a lever and the truck box levelled out so they could head back out to the field for another load of wheat.
“Hey buddy, how are you today?”
“Good,” smiled Ayden.
“How was school?”
“Okay.”
“Ready to get to work?”
“You bet!” said Ayden, while he offered his grandpa a cheese stick, knowing it was one of his favorite snacks.
“Thanks,” said his Grandpa peeling away the wrapper as he encouraged the old truck to move forward.
Ayden was all smiles as he settled back into the grimy seat enjoying the sights and smells of late summer. He knew the combine was somewhere up ahead and he couldn’t wait to see it. Sure enough, within a minute, he could see a cloud of dust in the field, west of the road. That dust was coming from their combine. Papa John carefully drove the truck off the road onto an approach then down into the section of the field that had already been combined. The leftover wheat straw standing like stiff wire, scraped the bottom of the truck’s axels as the giant truck rumbled through the field. It took no time for the truck to catch up to the slowly, creeping combine. As soon as Ayden’s Dad spotted his son in the truck, he stopped the large machine so Ayden could climb aboard.
It would have been difficult to wipe the grin from the young boy’s face. This is what he had been thinking about all day while he was supposed to be paying attention to his teacher. As Ayden closed the door behind him, his Dad started the combine on its slow crawl, allowing the complicated contraption to separate the wheat kernels from the chaff.
“Hey bud, how are you doing today,” asked his Dad, not taking his eyes from the crop in front of him.
“Good now,” smiled Ayden, “How is it running?” he asked, meaning how thick was the grain being harvested.
“It’s a good crop, heavy and dry, ideal conditions for combining. Did Mom take the girls to dance class?”
“I don’t know, I guess so. I left before they did.”
“Remember, you have school tomorrow, so you can’t stay out here too late.”
“I know Dad, but I don’t have any homework and having a shower before bed doesn’t take very long,” reasoned Ayden.
“When your Mom texts and says it’s time for you to head home, I don’t want to hear any arguing.”
“I know Dad,” replied Ayden, as he watched a field mouse running for its life ahead of the combine’s cutter bar. Soon the hopper was full of wheat kernels and Papa John had pulled the grain truck beside the combine’s auger allowing it to unload its treasure. With the combine in park, Ayden and his Dad stepped out of the cab to stretch their legs. Looking out over the landscape, Ayden’s Dad placed his hands on his hips and shook his head from side to side while letting out a long, loud sigh. Ayden stood on his tippy toes to try to figure out what his Dad was looking at but all he could see were acres and acres of wheat and canola.
“What are you looking at Dad?”
“Just how much water there is out there.”
“But Big, Middle and Little Quill Lakes have always been there, right?”
“Yes, but the lakes overflowed their banks more than ten years ago and have become huge, flooding a lot of our farmland. Land we can’t make a living from anymore. What is covered by water won’t be good for anything in the future.”
“Because it would be too wet?”
“Well, that and because the water is very salty. Even if the soil dries out, the salt will stay and our crops won’t grow in salty soil. The worst part is that each year the flooded lakes grows bigger.” Ayden could see the concern written all over his Dad’s face. He had heard talk around town and noticed some articles in the local newspaper about the flooding but he had not realized it was affecting his own family, until now.
“Remember Grandpa Bruce’s bronze plaque that was in the marsh Ducks Unlimited named for him?”
“Yes.” Ayden remembered sometimes on the way to Saskatoon, their family would pull over on the highway and walk to the edge of the marsh. It was named Melsted Marsh and there had been a very large wooden sign and a plaque on a post explaining who his Grandpa Bruce was, and why the marsh had been named for him.
“The sign and the plaque had to be removed because of the flooding.”
“Oh no.”
“Both would have been ruined if they had been left where they were. Ducks Unlimited has them in storage for now, so they are safe. Maybe someday they can be put up again.”
“How can the flooding be fixed?”
“That’s a great question, bud. Many engineers and water specialists have been here trying to figure out how to help. Trenches could be dug so the extra water could run into other lakes in the area but once again, salt is the problem. The lakes and rivers around here are all fresh water and no one wants to see them contaminated with the Quill Lakes’ salt. But something better be done soon, we have lost hundreds of acres of farmland and some people have lost their whole farms, including their homes. Ayden couldn’t imagine their house being swallowed up by water. He looked past the fields and he could see a thin slice of blue water shimmering all the way to the horizon. What once looked like a huge swimming pool to Ayden, now looked like an enemy.
It was nearly dusk when Ayden jumped up into Papa John’s grain truck for the ride back to his quad. He had had a great evening with his Dad and Grandfather. He had even been allowed to steer the combine for a short while, just like a real farmer. Now that the sun was going down, he could smell the moisture of the dew settling on the ground. Without a breeze to keep the grain dry, combining for tonight would come to an end soon after the sunset. Ayden maneuvered his quad home, parking it near the garage, then made his way into the house.
Judging by the giggling and splashing he could hear, he knew his sisters were probably getting ready for bed. After removing his dusty work boots and overalls, he washed his hands in the bathroom sink. A quick glance in the mirror told him he wouldn’t escape without a shower. His blonde, curly hair was covered in dirt and dust with the only, somewhat clean part of his face hidden behind the lenses of his glasses. But getting clean would have to wait, he was starving. Ayden opened the fridge to see what his Mom had made for supper. Spaghetti and meat sauce sat right on the middle shelf making him smile. It was his favorite food. He heaped a plate full of the pasta and sauce and placed it in the microwave. While waiting, he munched on a few grapes that hung out over the edge of the fruit bowl. The microwave dinged, signaling his meal was ready. Oh no! He was in trouble now! He had forgot to cover his food and now the microwave was covered in red splatters. He carefully lifted the hot plate out and sat it on the counter while he poured himself a large glass of milk.
The girls, dressed in their pajamas came giggling out of Mom’s bedroom for a bedtime snack.
“When did you get home?” asked Mya.
“A few minutes ago. I got to drive the combine,” boasted Ayden.
“You did not!” replied Mya.
“Did too. Just ask Dad,” he said, slightly raising his voice, “I got to drive it one whole length of the field.” He hoped the added details would make it more believable. Mya finished peeling her orange feeling a little jealous.
“Well Mom, Alyxa and I played a couple holes of golf after dance class,” replied Mya, hoping to make Ayden a little jealous too.
“Big deal, I can do that anytime.”
“Hey buddy,” said Mom, “I didn’t hear you come in. Good, you found something to eat. Finish your supper then it’s into the shower, then bed. No time for LEGO tonight.”
“I know.” Other than hockey and farming, Ayden’s other passion was LEGO. He had been building with it since he was two years old. He and his Dad had assembled many intricate models that he proudly displayed on shelves that took up a whole wall in his bedroom. With thousands of LEGO blocks organized in drawers, he had an almost endless supply. With imagination and skill, he made good use of the blocks. To Ayden, it was much more than a hobby.
After a quick shower, Ayden set his glasses on his desk then climbed up onto his bunk bed. His Mom leaned up and kissed him good night while she ran her hand through his damp, blonde curls. He could hear his sisters in the next room climbing into their beds. He was glad he didn’t have to share his room; he liked his things to be organized and untouched. Laying quietly, tucked under the blankets, his thoughts slid back to the field and the combine he had driven. Then, as he drifted off to sleep, he remembered the flooding of the Quill Lakes.