Rosalie and Rosalind dragged me through school all the way to graduation and beyond. College was never a question for them, and they didn’t let me question it either. They dragged me after them, and it became obvious to us pretty soon that they weren’t aging anymore. I think it was the first time we really connected all the dots. We already knew they were smarter than normal. Top of every class they attended, and my grades prospered as well due to their tutoring. It’s hard to be a bad student when those two girls force you to try to live up to their standard. I made the best attempt I could, you understand, majoring in partying and girls as much as possible, but Rosalie and Rosalind did not let me get away with much.
All us Ageless in International Falls grew up doing the Boy and Girl Scout thing, as well as the tour guide thing. The adults wanted us to learn about the world, and they wanted us there to protect the vacationers if things went sideways. We were stronger than any of them, able to survive accidents or angry wildlife that would kill others. When the citidiots needed help, we could provide it. It ended up being better training for the real world than we guessed. A suspicious mind might think the adults planned it all. That under the guise of playing in the forest, the adults were preparing me, Rosalie, Rosalind, and the others to be something other than just small town kids in a big world. Suspicious minds can come up with some pretty crazy ideas, right?
There were more Ageless growing up in International Falls than just me, Rosalie, and Rosalind. More than there should have been. Only one-in-a-million of us are Ageless, and International Falls numbered in the thousands. Me alone was outside the curve. Me and the girls? We BROKE the curve. Then there were the Arnam of Rainy Lake. And… others. I can’t say how many, even here and now. Official secrets, doncha know? But there was a whole group of us Ageless who grew up together, stronger, faster, and more durable than most people. And as time went on, we got all the shiny side effects of the Peloran Treatments that made us just like the Peloran. I didn’t notice how abnormal that was at the time. Because it was normal to me.
I’ve been brushing up on new skills to repair one of my favorite jackets lately. That put me into an interesting mood, because I knew I was doing it because I’d rather spend a few hours over a few hundred dollars on a piece of clothing I liked. It got me thinking about scarcity and the economics thereof. And then on Sunday I did my normal weekly wrapping up of food for my day job. So I can just grab a packet of aluminum foil out of the fridge and take it to work. Where I unwrap it, eat the food, and throw the foil away. Because of course we all do that. And it got me to thinking. Are we all going to find out why our grand parents recycled aluminum foil, just like they recycled bacon grease? By God, I hope we can avoid that.
I’ve been growing some new skills in the last few months. I’ve been in tech for so long that my skill set is fairly narrow. I’m a Night Auditor, not a Seamstress, but I have a particularly good and useful jacket that has been falling apart in recent years. Wearing holes in cloth, ripping seams, and stuff like that. Stuff that my mom would have fixed when she was younger. But she was doing badly for at least the last couple years, and little things like repairing clothing passed our notice. Well, in the last few weeks, I’ve taken to needle and iron-on patches to repair the good and useful jacket that would cost me hundreds of dollars to replace. It’s not a perfect repair job, but it should give the jacket some more years of life.
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