The Road Not Taken: November 2011

For my History of Creativity class, we were asked to write an epic patterned after the Aeneid that tells a story of the US. The point was to capture the core values and customs of the country.

Naturally,

the United States was not cool enough for my epic.

I decided to focus on the customs of the South,

Alabama specifically.

So that's what I did.

At 1:00am this morning I began writing.

I only wrote for an hour,

so don't kill me for improper usage of literary devices, okay?

I'm pretty proud of it :)

It makes me laugh.

So I've decided to share it with you.

War Tide.

It was Autumn. Ivy watched golden brown leaves fall from the oak trees in her large New England backyard. “We’re moving to Alabama,” her mother said. Ivy spun away from the window to face her mother; mouth wide open in shock. “We’ll move in to the new house just before Thanksgiving. It’ll be an adventure.” Ivy couldn't believe her ears. Alabama?, she thought, Yeah that will be an adventure for sure.

A few weeks later, Ivy rode down the windy roads of Mountain Brook, Alabama. She watched as large oak and pine trees whipped past the window; occasionally a big, beautiful antebellum or Tudor style house peeked into view. As she looked closer at each house, she noticed flags hanging from the balconies. From all houses hung the beautiful Star - Spangled Banner, but there were others: white flags with a red X, crimson red flags with a white cursive A, and a variety of orange and blue flags hosting paw prints, tigers, or the letters AU. How strange, she thought, who would decorate such beautiful homes with tacky flags? Little did she know this was just the beginning. Every license plate matched one of the flags; she saw t-shirts, baseball caps, sweatpants, car magnets, car flags, cups, coolers, nail polish, purses, sunglasses, and even house slippers decorated in these same orange and blue or crimson and white. She heard strange sayings like, “y’all” “Roll Tide” and “War Eagle” and the names Burns, Saban, and some indian Bear Bryant in nearly every conversation. What kind of land have I journeyed to?

Monday. Only two days in the school week before Thanksgiving, and boy was Ivy ready for delicious food and some normalcy with her family. So focused on reading the school map, Ivy nearly ran into another student walking into her first class. “Pardon me, ma’am. Ladies first.” She looked up to see a cute boy staring back at her wearing an orange shirt with “Auburn” written across the front. “Oh, uh.. yeah,” she mumbled and awkwardly walked through the door. Ma’am? Ivy had just slipped off her backpack and taken a seat when the boy turned around,
“Who do you go for?”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“I’m sorry, my name’s Parker. I’m kinda a big fan and I’m just curious, who do you go for?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean. Who do I go for?”
“You know, the Iron Bowl this weekend. Which way are you pulling?”
Luckily, Ivy didn’t have to answer that strange question, as the teacher then began to lecture.

Later Ivy had P.E. As she walked into the gym, a divide became apparent: students in red and white stood on the left-hand side of the court, while orange and blue clad students congregated on the right. She glanced down at her own attire. Red vans and a blue shirt, great. A girl ran up to her,”Hey I’m Anna Margaret. I noticed you look a little lost and thought you might could use some team attire. I have an extra hat if you’d like to borrow it.” Ivy gratefully accepted the hat and joined Anna Margaret alongside the orange and blue players. The borrowed hat was neither orange nor blue, but green camouflage, and sported the same “Auburn” word across the front. As she placed the hat on her head, Ivy heard the whistle blow and dodgeballs went flying. Before she even had time to think, a ball whacked Ivy in the shoulder and she was sent to the sidelines. Ivy watched as the game went on. The team in red and white was good; strong, quick, but a little cocky and pretty poor sports when one of their players was hit. The orange and blue team was not quite as strong; but they worked together to outsmart the red and white players. It was a really close match, and the bell rang for the end of class as the last two players stood on the court. The coach blew her whistle, calling the game a draw. Parker, the boy she nearly ran into that morning, was the last man standing for the orange and blue team. Impressive, she thought as she left the gym to head for the cafeteria.

Ivy walked in to the cafeteria and saw the divide in full force. The lunch lines were colored differently. One line served all orange and blue food; orange hamburgers with blue buns, orange vegetables, macaroni and cheese, blueberries, even the cake was orange and blue. The other side served the same foods, but in red and white. “Sweetheart, you might want to pick your side wisely. It’ll stick with ya until the day you die” a lunch lady said as she handed Ivy a tray. You can’t be serious, she looked back at the woman. The lunch lady was dead serious. Ivy briefly considered what she knew about each color combination. She thought about Anna Margaret and her generosity, Parker and his courtesy and good sportsmanship. She thought about the dodgeball game and how genuinely the orange and blue team played as compared to the over-confident red and white team. Well, orange and blue it is. As Ivy walked over to that colored line, she saw Anna Margaret and Parker wave to her from a little farther down. She quickly grabbed her food and caught up with the two. “Looks like you’re rooting for Auburn, huh?” Parker said. “It’s a wise choice. If you haven’t already noticed, football is kind of a big deal down here.” “Football? This is all about football?” “Not just any football,” Anna Margaret said, “S-E-C football. Plus, Auburn/Alabama is possibly the biggest rivalry in the nation. The game is this Friday.” “Oh duh, I knew that…” Ivy responded. NOT. She was learning, though. Alabama was a foreign world to her, full of strange sayings and customs. Ivy kind of liked the crazy traditions, and now she could go home to tell her parents all about the epic adventure she’d had that day; her first experiences with southern hospitality and an obsessive love of college football.