The streets. I never walked them since I never set a foot outside. My parents were careful and said they wanted some privacy. The same privacy that made them feel safe in the old days. Those days before I came into their lives. It was at a time people used net curtains in front of their windows and long heavy curtains which were closed at night.
"There's no reason to let others have a look inside. No need to show off with what you have or let them take part in every aspect of your life. They will come after you," mom said as I asked her what hid behind our blinds.
At that time she didn't allow me to have a peep outside. I didn't ask further because I knew my parents would never lie to me. They loved me. To be honest I never felt the need to find a better world. I was happy to be where I loved it most. Mom and dad were my universes. My parents knew me well and felt when I needed to discover something new. They kept me busy.
Next, to the lessons, mom and dad taught me there were treasure boxes. Each box even item came along with a story of a different world.
Our days weren't filled with watching the screen. Like I said our life was scheduled by those who knew what is best for us. My dad told me and said at that time he thought it would be the best and safest place to be under the circumstances. Life be could lead. Technology took care of us. The cams, little drones and even scanners for QR codes in our house.
The idea of my parents not feeling safe inside of their own house made me think once I grew older. Mom said these were different times, back then it was because the world was divided and no one knew who to trust or could tell what was right or wrong.
Right or wrong became confusing? How could that be? My parents taught me what was allowed and what was not. Allowed was good, not allowed wrong and wrong means being punished. Not that my parents ever punished me but as soon as they spoke about the 'what was good for all of us' subject the sound of their voice changed. Was there something to be afraid of?
Privacy was just a word to me. I grew up between cameras, drones, with robots. Having them around, their sound I hardly noticed. The kitchen bot was the only engine we never used. She stood in the corner of the kitchen with her head down as long as I remembered. Mom always said she didn't need her and could perfectly well do all house chorus herself. Not that there was much to do. My parents worked behind the closed door, spent time with me or slept. Food was delivered, a special bot cleaned the floors, our sleeping cabins were heated and homemade meals were never prepared till the moment they decided to show me the hidden pantry.
I admit I needed time to get used to the old fashioned styled place both my parents kept secret for me. It felt unfamiliar. It was like travelling back in time. Mom and dad called it home and enthusiastically pointed at every item no matter how small it was. It brought back good memories to them. Their enthusiasm infected me.
Since preparing complete meals was not possible we played games with the recipes and kitchen tools. The idea was to trigger my creativity if it comes to cooking.
While I read and tried to memorize the recipe I asked myself why so many tools were needed. It was dad who always won. Mom said it was because he never cooked and didn't care about hygiene so much. A bowl plus spoon or knife was all he needed.
"Think ahead and use your hands," dad grinned as he beat me again, "there's nothing to it.
The pantry was more than just a storage closet with our house built on top of it. It took me long to figure out it wasn't just a storage for food and old furniture but there was also a way out of here. Hidden behind the old stove was what once was the chimney. I saw the stairs, stairs that lead to a somewhere I never saw.
"Got you," dad grinned as he grabbed me at my shoulders and pulled me backwards, "better not say anything to mom sweety. There's a time for everything and..."
"I know daddy. I know the walls have ears and eyes even I can't see it. Can you show me the ears and eyes dad?"
I wrapped my arms around him and thought deeply.
"Dad? Why did you keep this place?"
I looked up into the eyes of the tall man who smiled at me.
"It's a memory. A good memory and a waste to throw away something good don't you agree? Isn't it fun to discover history yourself? Now you can see yourself how our grandparents lived."
He lifted me and twirled me around while I shouted with pleasure. Like always dad was right. These were the best history lessons I ever had and there was so much more to discover.
"Can we go down there," I asked as we sat at the table with an old notebook in front of us?
"We'll wait for mom and ask her but first I want to show you this notebook. You are old enough now to handle it with care. There are notes, photos and drawings in it. You might like it."
"Can I take it with me to my cabin?"
Dad hesitated.
"It's paper... The notebook is old and precious to me. Paper is expensive. This booklet cannot be replaced. You can look at it right here at this table."
I felt disappointed and bit my lower lip. As mom joined us I forgot about the notebook because it was time for hide and seek.
At the end of the day, dad brought the notebook to me wrapped in a towel.
"Promise me you will only read it if your cabin is closed and you'll handle it carefully. Clean hands only and if you don't read it you wrap the towel around it."
I nodded.
"Clean hands and if my cabin is closed only."
Dad hugged me goodnight and closed my cabin. The package was next to me. Carefully I opened it and read what was noted on the first page: 8:00 trash can on the street, 10 a.m. appointment sweeper, 4 p.m. High tea with CT.
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