<strong>Name:</strong>Hannah Smith<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Garage / Front Yard<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open<br/><br/>"We should sort things in the driveway and garage," Hannah said after Kim let her go.  "Things we need to let air out like a wet tarp go in one area, things that need to be washed and then dried in another, dirty clothes in another pile - why make the house stink? - and then..."  Hannah was still talking as she walked past her sister, then turned immediately around and went back to grab the pair of shorts she'd worn the night before and put her feet in a pair of Chucks.  She had a pair of expensive and solid hiking boots that Dad bought her - bought all of them before the trip - but her favorite shoes were her Chucks and the way they were battered showed it.  "-stuff that needs to go back up in the attic-" she talked all the way to the garage and finished only as she reached the garage, not thinking about why the door went up when she pressed the button when the electricity was out.<br/><br/>The back of the van was a mess, stuff just jammed in there and quite unlike her father's usual careful packing, almost like an expert Tetris player.  Even so she figured that near the top, where he could get to them, were the guns.  Daddy kept guns, all the kids knew how to shoot even her, but they didn't really interest her.  If she found a case that held one, she'd stack it up against the front of the garage near the door into the house and out of the way of anyone who might want to be stupid with them.  Same with the bullets though those were prettier and she liked the brass smell of the empty ones and how they would shine and shine and shine for days if you polished them.  She'd gotten in trouble for using them in her art once, a piece she took to school, and had to promise not to do that ever again because man were the teachers scared of and the principal mad at her.  They kept talking about Columbine and what did the flower have to do with it all?  Adults.<br/><br/>Despite her odd ways, and the lens through which she saw the world, Hannah's method of unpacking was fairly efficient and made sense if not the same sense other people would use.  It worked, it was going smooth except when she stopped to look at something or think about it or just look up at the clouds and wonder why fog felt cold and scary but clouds looked hot and airy but they were the same thing.<br/><br/>Soon the front yard looked like a refugee camp, spreading out of the garage, as the months of camping were unloaded.  She thought at one point she heard the mower stop moving, not running but moving, and wondered if Andrew was just about done.<br/><br/>"Harry?  Kim?"  She waited until she had their attention.  "Is Andrew going to mow everyone's yard?"  Her finger pointed to the houses around them, swinging from one to the other like a conductor swinging her baton.  "They look shaggy.  I mean, if they weren't going to cut them all summer, why didn't we stay here and just camp in the yard?"