“Heartland”
Somewhere in Council Bluffs, Iowa there is a tiny street called HoneysuckleRoad. It is here where two friends grew up by the names of Johnny Whitebread andSuzy Cornbread. They are both 18 years of age now, but they were not always.Little Johnny’s hair was made pure white by the sun. Little Suzy had cornyellow hair, made golden in the sun, two braids on either side, hazel eyes. And all thewhile lady cupid stood waiting above them, walking in the clouds in bare feet,dressed in a white silk gown blowing in the light breeze, her arrow notched butrelaxed, watching them grow.The farm lands on the border of Nebraska and Iowa were painted green withsubtle hills, except for the rows of crops and the occasional barn or granary, all wellkept.Back then, same as now, you could find young Amy Whitebread, 12 years old,kissing a donkey at the Jameson’s barn. Or Jimmy Jameson there, when he was 10,tending the cows, with his long brown hair, in his blue jeans and sleeveless purpleshirt, a natural among cows and people alike. He liked them both, and they bothliked him.In fact, there was no one among these young farm kids except they who hadgenuine hearts. Hearts that had not been touched by much strife in life, really if anyat all. They were all just nice to each other, naturally. They made hard work seemeasy, and the days happy and smooth. They didn’t go to school, just worked thefarms, same as the several generations before them. And they were happy.Later in Suzy’s diary she wrote about Johnny’s blue truck that his dad hadgiven him. She loved that truck, and loved remembering how often she had smiledin it while driving somewhere on a sunny day.It was a day like that, with a simple smile in her heart, that she walked intothe parking lot of the Jack and Jill diner, where she worked, “The Quaintest Placein Town To Dine”. She had gone swimming earlier and felt quite refreshed, a perfectway to start work. She walked around to the back of the diner, unlocked the back door and went inside.- - -That same morning Johnny had gotten up at daybreak and was loadingbushels of peaches into the back of his truck. As he was coming out of his morninggrogginess, he remembered having a strange dream the night before. He dreamt thathe had gone to Springfield, and found that it was completely run down. Forexample, on his way into town, he drove past some roadkill that was in the center of the street, and the yellow street lines were just painted right over the top of it, as if itwas just part of the road. Then he passed an old guy sitting on a tiny little stool inthe middle of the street, wearing a straw hat and holding a fishing pole over a hugepothole filled with rainwater. Apparently he was going fishing in the puddle.Even though it was just his imagination, these things did not leave a goodimpression on Johnny as he started off toward Springfield. Yet quite opposite of hisdream, as the rain was ending and clouds were drying up, there was a giant half
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