Spring Cleaning

As America continued to sleep peacefully, suddenly the door opened and the lights flashed brightly, filling the room.

“Up! It's like spring! Time for spring cleaning!” America heard his wife call cheerfully as he moaned, turning onto his back, and rubbing his eyes.

“Now?” America moaned.

“Of course, silly. We talked about this like last week. We've got an entire mansion to clean, now like get up already,” Louisiana said, pulling the blankets off from the bed, showing America in his boxers with his flag on it.

“Great,” America muttered tiredly, reaching for his glasses.

“Somebody's not gonna get any of South's homemade hamburgers he's cooking on the grill,” Louisiana smirked in her sing-song voice as America hopped off the bed and quickly dressed in his work clothes.

“Up and ready for cleaning, Maim,” America grinned brightly as Louisiana giggled, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“Then, let us get to work, shall we?” Louisiana whispered in her flirtatious voice that was so addicting that it reminded you that she was related to France.

The duo giggled like high school sweethearts, kissing again before walking down the hallway, holding hands. One of the great things about staying the same age for a hundred years is that America could always enjoy feeling like a young man in love. He never wanted to grow into one of those old men that would grow bitter or not enjoy loving his wife. America and Louisiana have always been the young teenagers and, now, young adults in childish love, which wasn't going to change anytime soon.

That wasn't to say the duo never had any fights or spats here and there. America still remembered the Susan B. Anthony incident, but it was the enjoyment of being in love he enjoyed the most. He never wanted it to go away no matter how much time passed.

The married duo went downstairs, then met with South USA, who was sprawling across the left part of the black leather couch, folding his arms behind his head, and using them as a pillow, his boots off. Hawaii and Alaska were sitting together in the middle part of the couch. Hawaii wore her usual Hawaiian grassy skirt and tan top and Alaska only wore a long-sleeved navy blue sweater and jeans with snow boots. His black raven hair showed to be in Russia's style and bright violet eyes.

“Ah, so you're finally up,” Alaska grinned.

“Yep! She got you guys up too?” America asked.

“She got us up, brah,” Hawaii said, drinking her bottle of water.

“Would anyone care to explain what spring cleaning is?” A voice from an older man asked, coming from non other than Native America, who had recently moved inside the mansion about a decade or so ago. Of course, he had come out of being bed ridden only a year ago.

“We do serious deep cleaning in this mansion once every year. You were still sick when we were spring cleaning during the other previous years,” America explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I see,” Native America said, lighting up his peace pipe. “Who will be cleaning what?”

“Okay, here's how it like works,” Louisiana grinned cheerfully, clasping her hands together. “The men are like in charge of the outside heavy labor work outside and the women are in charge of cleaning the inside part of the mansion. America will totally get you started what the men are supposed to do, so like wish you luck!”

“What happen ta equality of us men an' women? ain't that there why ya done decided ta steal my job in a-bein' in charge of thay blue collaared workers?” South asked.

“No, I totally took in charge of that, because you like wanted to be promoted to America's job to be in charge of the White Collared Workers. I stole your job, because I was getting sick of being stuck with no job at all, besides being the good little house wife. Besides, like the inside of the house is only a small portion, so it totally makes sense that two people would be in charge of the mansion and four people be in charge of over SIXTY acres of land,” Louisiana corrected.

“So, how'd ya an' that damn yankie done settled spring cleaning when it were just the two of ya's?” South smirked.

“Oh, we just worked together on it and cleaned what needed to be cleaned. Louisiana would help me with the outside work too,” America replied as South humphed, showing a scowl before his shoulder was held by America's firm hand. “Co'mon South. It's not that bad and I know how picky you are about cleaning your combine.”

“Y'all're just a-sayin' that there, so I can make those there damn burgers fowr y'all. ,” South rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Yes and I'm already smelling the burgers already! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease with a cherry on top!? I haven't tasted those Texas burgers in like ages, man!”

“Darn good awful old Texas Burgers. Brings back the memories. I suppose, if it makes ya happy, ya damn Yank,” South finally agreed, smiling and patting America on the back a few times before making his way to the barn.

“Forgot his first name was Texas,” Native America said, sounding like he didn't really care. “Was a better kid than now.”

“I done heard that there!” South shouted.

“Has everyone already forgotten about me?” A voice asked.

“Huh? What was that?” America wondered, looking around as he turned, then jumped when finding Alaska behind, waving.

“Hello,” Alaska waved, now seen with a white tank top and jeans.

“Geez, why ya gotta scare the crap outta me? You're almost as bad as your brother!”

“You mean Big Brother Russia?” Alaska asked, a dark aura surrounding him. Ever since Russia had sold Alaska to America, whenever his brother was brought up, Alaska always gave this creepy vibe. Nobody was sure why and it became worse when the Cold War started, mainly because he wanted and still wants to kill Russia. “You know, I watch him everyday... in my backyard.”

“Listen, how about you take care of the cleanin' outside of the home an' yard?” South said.

“Oki dokey,” Alaska replied cheerfully, walking on his way to the shed.

“That there guy creeps tha hell outta me. Why you done buy him from the Commie Bastard anyways?” South asked.

“He's not that bad and I kinda owed Russia a favor at the time. He did help out during the Civil War. Also, he wasn't Communist at the time,” America replied, shrugging.

“Suppose so. He still creeps tha hell outta me.”

“I can be in charge of mowing the grass, cleaning the side of the roads and the storage bins. South, you can be in charge of the barns by the storage bins. Native America can take care of the animal barn, since he's better with animals and likes taking care of them,” America decided as South sighed.

“I don't care as so long as that Indian can keep tha wolves away from tha chickens,” South replied as Native America shot him a glare.

Hawaii and Louisiana both worked side by side inside of the house, moving furniture and cleaning every spot inside the mansion. Of course, they had help from some of the servants. Hawaii was able to take down many of the Christmas decorations, that America had been too lazy to place down, then place up pictures of green landscapes, spring flowers and fruit.

Louisiana was dressed in a long white skirt, a loose green top, an apron and black flat shoes. She also had her blond hair up in a nice bun like the stereotypical housewife, only she wasn't and hasn't been a housewife in almost 100 years. She had her feather duster, wiping away the dust from hard-to-reach places, while humming a random tune. Hawaii was scrubbing the floor with a rag and wash water, being this was always done during Spring Cleaning.

“Yo think da boys are doing fine?” Hawaii asked.

“Alaska seems stellar,” Louisiana replied, smiling and waving at Alaska, who was mowing the lawn.

“Seems like it, sistah.”

“Totally.”

“Dang nabbit son of ay turnip!” South cursed as America laughed in response.

“How's it coming with cleaning that thing? Are you sure you don't need any help?” America asked, grinning as he saw South trying to lift himself up from falling on his back beside the combine, rubbing the back of his head. He had been trying to climb on the combine to clean the windows.

“I don't need ya help!” South stubbornly replied.

“Well, if it can get out more of that colorful redneck language, then be my guest,” America teased in reply before ducking from an oncoming boot. “Missed!”

“Damnit!”

“Let me know, if you need my help!”

“I can clean my own damn combin tha way I wan-ta!” South shouted back as he began climbing back up with a drag in his hand and a bottle of oil. Then, got his jeans caught in one of the parts to the combine. “Fucking low down pair ay white trash jeans!” America laughed as South shot him a glare. “Don't just stand there, help me with this here god damn thing!”

“Sure thing, South,” America chuckled, freeing South's leg. “Let me know if you've got anymore legs to free.” South responded by flipping off America, who laughed it off.

Native America moved big pound bags, stocks of hay, barrels and other things to clean under them. Of course, he didn't forget to clean the animals as well. America owned a huge farmland, had for over 200 years. There had used to be bigger land that America owned than this. Though, with low amount of indentured servants, the expense in paying regular servants, the amount of people in the house and the Great Depression and some of the land being mortgaged or rented out, America now had about 60 acres of land left that only he claimed as his own. The land that was mortgaged or rented out was about over 100 acres. Native America was always reminded of how spoiled America was under England during his colony days.

“Hello,” Alaska greeted right behind Native America, who just turned and looked at him with no surprise written on his face. “Need any help?”

“Help would be nice,” Native America replied as Alaska grinned in glee, then began with cleaning the poop from the barn. There seemed to be a long pause as the two men kept working. “You seem to take a bit from Eskimo.”

“Of course, share some blood from your brothers and sisters,” Alaska replied cheerfully.

“Actually, Eskimo was my mother,” Native America replied as Alaska paused for a moment.

“Really?”

“I believe she was also a relative of China's too. I don't think he remembers much of her. The spirits told her to keep moving and she did. I became the nation with no name.”

“Isn't your name Native America?”

“Yes, but at one time, it was just Nation. That's why Canada calls me First Nation. I had no name. The white man gave it to me. At one time, I was India, since Italy, Spain and other Europeans thought I was India. Of course, when it was clear I was not India, I was then called America by the white man.”

“What about America? How was he given that same name?”

“I gave it to him.”

“Why? I don't understand. You and America never got along those years ago and have had the longest hate that makes France and England seem like best friends in comparison.”

“I did not give him that name, because I liked or favored him. I gave him that name the same reason all other nations give the young nations their own names, inheritance. The spirits told me America would take my land and people. My people, my culture... they will be gone from this world. America will carry what was once my culture, along with the rest of my children,” Native America explained.

“So, America is your child?”

“No,” Native America replied, continuing his work. “Wolverine is, due to his relations with my son Mexico, but Eagle carries no blood of mine.”

When it was close to evening, everyone was exhausted from all the work they've done. Of course, South made his homemade Texas burgers and everyone showered before eating, then sleeping. America held his wife close, while he slept on their comfortable bed. Spring cleaning was always the day of deep cleaning every corner of their property, but felt good to get everything done by the end of the day. America rested his cheek against Louisiana's, which felt hot and red from working all day. It reminded him of how lucky he was to have someone like Louisiana to get through the day. He was a sucker for hardworking wives, even if they were stubborn and off-the-wall sometimes.