"Say cheese"

The world’s identity had taken a shift for the more productive and advanced era. Every need and old habit from the old times had been undermined by technology. People stopped writing letters, and instead started simply learning the complications of texting their partner. Manual work was swapped as well, and factories took over the need of providing the goods for society. Every corner of the world was brimming full of these changes, but there are those in secret corners that have retained certain customs. 

Grandpa Anders was one of those special individuals, and he resided with his lovely wife in a quiet, peaceful farm on the other side of the world, where almost none came to visit. His family was the exception however. Every weekend his beloved grandchildren, Rebecca and George, would stay at his farm, while the parents were traveling. 

Old Anders wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but his heart glowed red whenever he saw their lovely faces. Being a girl, Rebecca often spent time with grandma Marie, and the two would mostly chatter about their concerns and do various activities together. One of their favorite pastimes was to tease Anders and have him confused over a joke that flew over his head. 

Meanwhile, young Georgie’s main trait was the ability to shelter himself from the others with the help of his machines. Although he loved and talked to his grandparents, his mind was fixated on entertaining itself through technology, primarily videogames. From the morning rise of the sun to the arrival of the dark moon, he would spend most of his time on screens.

The grandmother of course took his games away during meals, and sometimes in the living room, but the grandfather observed him more and more whenever he came, and his heart turned grey.

Despite all that, one unforgivable act of his grandson that he frowned upon was wasting his slices of cheese. Old Anders wasn’t particularly fond of processed, factory-made cheese but he accepted it as a necessity for a healthy lifestyle and a source of food for families. George on the hand always threw away his slices whenever they were served in sandwitches. He took them out and tossed them in the trash bin.

Grandpa observed this habit for several weeks, until one day his heart snapped inside. One afternoon, instead of eating together at the dining room as they normally did, Anders said: “ Georgie, come with me for a minute.” 

The young lad obediently moved from his chair and followed him. “Where are we going?”

“To my workshop, it’s time I taught you something important,” Anders replied.

They didn’t walk a lot, as the workshop was in the kitchen. On top of the round table, there were several ingredients: a big wooden bowl with milk, lemons, vinegar, and a simple colander.

Anders smiled, thinking of his younger self." Roll up your sleeves, we will be making cheese today.”

George stared at him puzzled. “ Why are we going to make our own, if grandma can bring it from the shop?”

Anders looked at him with a serious, yet calm face. “ I’ve been observing you during lunch. How you throw away the cheese slices in the trash. Your grandmother may be ok with it, but you have to learn how to appreciate what you are given. Those you get from factories and machines won't teach you that. This skill will."

“But I don’t know how to make cheese.”

“ I will teach you.”

The two started working. Anders rolled up his sleeve and guided George step by step. He had his grandson pour the milk into a bent, but bright-looking pot and heated it until the milk boiled. He had George keep an eye on the pot, while he was reading the newspaper. When the milk started boiling, Anders stirred carefully and added a few tablespoons of vinegar with a pinch of his special ingredient: squeezed lemon juice with a small hint of sugar. The vinegar performed its magic and the cheese soon started separating into curds.

“It’s time,” said Anders enthusiastically.

He took the large pot and poured the cheese curds into two small colanders, covered with 2 pieces of thick cloth. Anders asked his grandson to observe as he started wrapping the cloth and continued to squeeze it. Afterwards, he was massaging it with his hands and wrapped it into a big circular shape. Finally, he used his favorite weight, an ancient, big copy of the bible. George did the same, and for now they had to wait.

“It is time son. Unwrap it carefully and we shall cut it.”

Both unwrapped their cloths and sliced the cheese into four equal pieces. Anders tasted his with a huge grin on his face and was full of satisfaction. He ate it slowly so he could absorb all the flavor.

“ Taste it, it’s good,” he said.

George took a small bit and unfortunately felt nothing special. “ I guess it’s good.” 

“EXCUSEE ME?!?!, ”said his startled grandfather.

Both were staring at each other in silence, and Anders had set his plan. For every weekend when his grandkids came, he and Georgie would stay and make more cheese, which then they would serve at the table, instead of buying it premade and processed. 

The young one had slowly found himself eating more and more cheese, as it was included in most of their meals and skills got better with more practice. However, he still hadn’t given up his old habits, and that wasn’t relished by his grandpa. 

One particular Sunday, as his frustration was higher than ever, George separated himself from the farm, but he was unaware that aside from a cheese-maker, his grandfather was also a master tracker. 

“ Shouldn’t we be inside by now?,” said Anders with his arms crossed. Georgie had his back behind him. “ I am just enjoying the fresh air.”

The old man wasn’t buying it. “Turn around then.”

Reluctantly, George turned around with his handheld placed between his thighs. Anders slowly snatched it.

“ You are not allowed to have this as we work. I am keeping it for now.”

George felt the blood boil in his veins and lashed out at him. “ WHAT’S THE POINT OF THIS GRANDPA? This is utterly useless, having me make cheese like this instead of buying it. What are you trying to teach me?”

Anders was shocked at that response and for minutes stared at him motionless.

“Let me show you something.”

Anders went inside, left the device, and came back with a hat on his head. “ We are going into town.”

The two took a stroll into town, and it was the first time George was visiting it. They walked down the path towards the farm and took a straight left. Rebecca and her brother never came to this part of town.

“ Hey Andy, who is that with you?,” said an old man, outside a bakery.

“Morning Greg. He is my grandson Georgie. Georgie said hi to him please.” 

“ Mr. Anders. Nice to see you. How’s everything with Marie?”

“Ohh we are arguing about getting a new bench. She wants to read now or something.”

The two were stopped countless times by Ander’s buddies at their respective shops, but they didn’t come down to chat. It was to observe.

Observe the local carpenters coming outside pouring sweat while their partners brought snacks and water. Hear the butcher’s intense snap at the lamb as he cut it into pieces and then wrapped it around carefully. Smell the yummy aroma of freshly baked bread coming out of the oven. In the corners there were certain homeless buggers sitting by the side of some stores. Some owners came outside to sit next to them and hand them food and water. 

As George turned his head around, he observed a coeval of his, leading the strains of a dirty dunkey, carrying a mother with her baby child. The boy turned to George and smiled at him.

The image in front of him was in general gloomy and dirty, yet everyone around him were working hard with a smile on their faces and helped each other. He didn’t notice a trace of technology around him.

Anders and George decided to come back to the farm and the young one finally broke the tension between them, “ Grandpa, why did you show this?”

The old geezer turned around him slowly and simply said, “ If I have to tell you,then it was all for nothing.” That was the last thing Anders said to his grandson in weeks.

George and his sister would continue to visit their grandparents out of need. Anders would rarely talk to his grandson and he couldn’t prove it but he felt his heart fading in color. Attempts were made to break him out of his shell but to no avail.

“What am gonna do?,” George asked himself repeatedly in his room. He stared at the wall for a second and looked back to reflect on the townsfolk that he had observed. They were not in the best conditions, but they worked hard to provide for others, and everybody was grateful for what they produced and received.

“THAT’S IT!!,” he shouted in excitement. Immediately after, his mother would allow him to use the kitchen as he made his own cheese. He listed in his head all the ingredients as he could remember them, and in the process failed a few several times. 

“First lower the heat, then mix.”

“Now add this.”

Before he would attempt his one hundredth try, he decided to add a personal touch to his creation. A few slices of fresh mango and peach. “He is going to love this." Then, he finished wrapping it around the cloth and in the morning carried it to the car.

Although they had driven the same way to the farm, this time the trip felt eternal. He rushed off immediately when the car stopped in front and he ignored his mother's screams.

Anders was found in the back of the place organizing his tools. He turned around at the increasing footsteps.

"Grandpa, this is for you," said George as he handed him his homemade cheese.

Anders unwrapped curiously and his eyes widened in shock of the end result. Not for good reasons tho.

George proceeded and told him,"Take a bite."

With some hesitation, the old geezer grabbed a small piece and staffed it in his mouth. " Wow. This tastes terrible."

George drops his hands in shock.

"But I love it." Although the cheese's taste was far from tasty, the struggle and love hidden behind the attempt to make it enlightened his heart to a full.

The following weeks, the two spent more time together and George became a regular visitor and friend to the people of the town. He never threw a slice of cheese again in his life.