That Summer Part 1
I had just hopped off of that clunk of junk that takes all of us students up Coal Branch to school that adults call a school bus. It was the last day of school, and the bus was pretty wild that afternoon, with the people who actually attended that day, anyway. I held my little sister Sydney Lakey's hand and helped her out of the pile of metal we were riding in. Sydney's six, and if you have ever been on a bus, you would realize the terror in Momma's eyes each time the innocent six year old got on the thing. So I am basicallly babysitting her from the time the bus leaves the school to the time she steps off the bus. Her springy brown piggytails bounced as her smiling face, dimples and all, jumped off the bus. To her, it was officially summer. It was just May 28, but it was still summer. As I grabbed laughing Sydney into my farmer's tanned arms, I looked to our little rinky-dink trailer, run down, but clean, and expected to smell Momma with supper on, grinning, saying, "Well, kids, how was your last day of school?" But, instead, I saw a grim Momma standing barefoot in the front yard, arms crossed, on the virge of bursting out into waterworks.
"Seth, I need to speak to you in the backyard," she choked. Her long, brown hair came to waist, and her light blue eyes were misty. I swallowed. This didn't look good.
"Sydney, can you take Bubby's books in the house?" I asked, handing her my tablet, not to be used again until August.
"Sure, Bubby!" giggled Sydney, who appeared not to sense something terrible was going on, to my relief. She skipped inside the house. I turned back to Momma. She hadn't looked this upset since the day Dad died... the day Sydney was born. He wrecked on his way to the hospital, never getting to see his beautiful, only daughter.
"I got fired today," she choked. I caressed her back, trying to soothe her. To her I was probably a giant, since she only measured to five foot 3. I even felt awkward sometimes, since I was 6 foot 5, tall for 16.
"Why, Momma?" I whispered, trying to hide the stressed look behind my eyes.
"Because I was too short to brush the new horse's hair," she bursted out into a bitter cry. Momma worked on a farm up Cow Creek grooming horses. She didn't get paid much, but enough to help support us. Momma worked hard at what she did, and she was good with the horses. But the ornery old man she worked for didn't care. He was downright mean to Momma sometimes. She wanted to quit, but where else could a girl with nothing but a 10th grade education find work?
"Momma, I can try to find work.... who wouldn't want a strong teenage boy to help around a farm or a shop or something?" I said, trying to comfort Momma. "Or the Wal-Mart in Paintsville, they hire workers without a high school diploma."
"I'll go with Milly tommorrow to see if they can," Momma sniffed. Milly Gaines was our grumpy next door neighbor. She worked at Wal Mart. As I said, she is always grumpy, but would do anything to help out a friend. Sydney came bursting out of the house.
"Momma, I saw you were crying, I thought this might cheer you up." She gave Momma a drawing of her, me, Momma, and, hand in hand with Momma.... Dad. Momma smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek and she scooped up Sydney and whispered softly, "I love my children."
Sydney was basically Momma's mini- me except for the fact she had a bit of freckles here and there. She stood to Momma's thighs, kinda short I guess you could say. Milly, our neighbor, had sandy hair with chocolate eyes. She was about 5 foot 10, kind of tall. (Well, I towered above her, but you know what I mean.) My feet hung out over the full bed Sydney and I shared. Momma was saving up for Sydney her own bed, and told her she would get one at age 7. She could hardly wait. I turned with what little room I had in our bed at the thought of Momma losing her job. This was it, I had to get a job. I could find someone to watch Sydney. I don't know who, but I knew for sure I had to figure out something. What if Wal Mart wouldn't hire Momma? A chill went up my spine. Seth, no, you have to have hope. Stop thinking like that.
Tommorrow Milly would take Momma to Wal Mart, it's official, Momma talked to her this afternoon, while she was shouting at some dogs (grumpy old Milly.) As I lie there thinking these things, I thought for sure I wouldn't be able to sleep until the sunshine shone through the window beside my bed. But, somehow, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep into the cold, bitter night.
The morning sun shone through my window like a ray of hope the next morining. I jumped out of bed and ran to the shower. Momma wasn't up yet, so I decided to go to the kitchen and make breakfast myself. I had just got dressed and went to the kitchen when Jason Gaines came bursting through the door. I should have expected this. Jason Gaines is Milly's husband's nephew who spends half of his summer at Milly's. I would say poor Jason..... but he is a headache, too. He's 14. Annoyingly. 14.
"HI, SETH!" Jason giggled. I rolled my eyes.
"Jason, you're going to wake up the dead, be quiet, Momma and Syd are still asleep."
"Actually, Seth, for your information, that is why I was sent over here. To tell Ms. Lakey to get ready. Aunt Millie has to be over there at 9:00, and it is already 8:00," Jason rolled his eyes in the same manner I had. Sometimes Jason and I were like brothers.... fights included. I sighed, and went to Mom's bedroom. I crept over to her bed and shook her gently.
"Momma, Milly wants you to get ready for Wal Mart, I'm making breakfast," I whispered. Immediately Momma sprung to life and practically did a cartwheel out of bed and into the bathroom. I retired to the kitchen where Jason was there to accompany me with the world's most annoying game... 20 questions. All. About. My. School. Year. This kid is killer.
"Jason, do you want to stay for breakfast?" Momma walked in the kitchen. She had worn her best skirt and formal top (her only decent top and untattered skirt) and makeup, rare for momma, on. Her brown hair was neatly pulled back into a loose bun. Momma was ready for the big Wal Mart.
"If you don't mind, ma'am," Jason smiled at Momma. He was always curtious to adults and women, I have to give the kid credit.
"Of course not," smiled Momma. "Seth, why don't you wake up Sydney and I'll set the table?" It was more of an order than a question, for Momma whisked the food off of the stove.
"I will," I mumbled, going back into my bedroom to wake Sydney up. The door was cracked, and I could hear Jason talking to Momma.
"My aunt in Knott County needs someone to tend for her farm, she's getting well up in years," he began, "and would pay room, board, meals, and a little salary for extra work for a farmhand. I mentioned something about Seth, and she said that she would love to have him." It was perfect! One less mouth for Momma to feed, and I could send Momma and Sydney the extra money home! An abousloutely flawless plan. I was sure Momma would take up the offer.
"I couldn't ask Seth to do that," she replied,"And who would watch Sydney? I can't afford a babysitter, even with the Wal Mart job." My hopes sank. Momma was too afraid to ask me.
"Ms. Lakey, I'm 14, and wouldn't mind to watch her anytime for nothing if you wish," Jason pleaded. He must really love this aunt. Or really want me to get this job.
"I'll ponder it," Momma sighed doubtfully. I stopped eavesdropping and went over to Syd.
"Come, on, little Syd, time for breakfast," I whispered. Sydney drearily opened her eyes, a light sleeper. She yawned. Her nostrils flared when she smelt the delicious food in the kitchen. She wearily drug her arms up toward me.
"Carry me," seemed to be the mumble out of her mouth. I laughed and scooped her up and packed her into the kitchen.
"Oh, there you are Seth," Momma inquired, not taking her eyes off her table-setting work, "I was starting to think you tripped over the bedpost again," she added, for Sydney's laughing benefit. I had tripped over the bedpost when I was 14 and broke my leg. The only clumsy moment in my life, and no one would let me live it down. Of course, Momma's remark made Jason giggle. I just decided to ignore it, and we all (some, unconsciously, like Sydney, laughs) sat down to a hearty morning meal. Momma had just got done eating when Milly walked through the door and laughed at Jason, his mouth full of biscuits and gravy.
"Jason, I see Lora has abducted you to her breakfast table," laughed Milly, and Momma laughed too. (By the way, if you didn't know, Momma's name is Lora.)
"Well, Mills, you ready to hit the road?" asked Momma, a spark in her blue eyes.
"Let's roll," smiled Milly. "Kids, be good!" they both yelled, then laughed when they realized they had said it at the same time, disappearing down the road in Milly's old car.
A while later, Sydney, Jason, and I had somehow managed to end up outside in the front yard, teaching Sydney how to ride Jason's bike. Then Momma and Jason's conversation from this morning popped up in my mind.
"Jason, I overheard you and Momma talking about your aunt in Knott County," I casually mentioned.
"You did?"
"Yeah, and I thought it was awful nice of you to suggest babysitting Syd," I added, trying to brown nose him.
"Yeah, she really wants a really strong man, but, I'm 14 and wimpy, and you're 16 and....let's just say, not wimpy," he chuckled to himself. I will take that as a complement.... I think.
"You think I can talk Momma into letting me go work for her?" I asked.
"I hope so," Jason almost whispered.
As we watched Milly's old car joloppy down the road, all of our eyes watched in anticipation. Had Momma gotten the job? Mr. Gaines, Milly's husband, came rushing over to the house.
"I hope your Momma got that job," he choked, feeling the same anxiety as I had.
"Me, too," was all I could manage to struggle out of my mouth. As Momma stepped out of the car, my eyes darted to the ground, scared to death of her expression. I knew I had to face my fears. So, slowly, I looked up and studied Momma's expression--and knew not to ask anything. She was wearily dragging herself into the house, dragging her feet, head bowed. Everyone said nothing. Not even Jason or Sydney. Milly bowed her head also and a look of frustration shown. I decided not to ask. I just looked at Momma, and said,
"I'm going to Knott County."
Momma wrung her hands as I packed my things. I had the suitcase Momma and Dad had used on their honeymoon, not much and worn out, but it could hold all of my few possessions. I wish we weren't poor. I wish Dad wasn't dead. Then I wouldn't have to go. But we were poor. And Dad was dead. Stupid reality. I carefully folded my jeans and old t shirts. Then, when Momma wasn't looking, I slipped in my favorite picture: Me, 10 years old, Momma pregnant with Syd, and Dad with his hands around all of us. Then I tucked in neatly Dad's old Bible. It had been his father's. I zipped my package of belongings carefully and drug them out to Milly's car. I was Knott County bound.
Jason hung out with me in the backseat, informing me on his aunt. She lived in Pippa Passes, he said. Her name was Katlyn Barnett,.She was in her 40s, had pale brown hair, on the verge of turning grey, had chesnut eyes with a gold ring around the pupil, wore grey glasses with biofocials, and usually wore an old t shirt with a tattered skirt. Her farm was huge. This put a feeling of dread... and excitement... over me. Could I be any help at all on such a large farm? I clutched the Bible in my suitcase and gulped.
Finally, after what seemed almost hours of driving (only about 45 minutes, but, still) we pulled upon a little run down farmhouse and a huge weathered black barn with a couple of boards missing, and beside that, a wooden hen house. That would probably be some of my first jobs: repairing the barn and house. Also, if you squinted, you could see fields of corn and wheat behind the barn and a pond aside from everything. On the porch, sitting in a rocker, was what I believed to be Jason's relative; exactly the way Jason described her, not a detail wrong. In addition to Jason's rightness, her farm was huge; exactly as big as I expected.
The first time I met Mrs. Barnett I could tell this summer was going to be different than any other; I just couldn't tell how.
"Mildred! It's so good to see you!" Mrs. Barnett exclaimed, throwing her arms around her.
"I've missed you, Katlyn," Milly said to her husband's sister.
"You haven't changed a bit, Mildred," continued Mrs. Barnett. While Milly and Mrs. Barnett had their litttle reunion, Jason started showing me around the farm. We went over to the pond and stuck our feet into the refreshing, cold water. After a while, we heard a call in the distance.
"Jason! Come on! It's time to leave!" shouted Milly. I guessed that was a call for me, too. Mrs. Barnett and I watched Milly and Jason pull out of the driveway. When they were completely out of sight, Mrs. Barnett turned to me.
"Go ahead and put your stuff up in the guest bedroom, Seth, then come into the kitchen. I want to talk to you," Mrs. Barnett almost whispered, then turned and went back inside the house.
The guest bedroom was easy to find. There was only two bedrooms in the whole house. I could easily tell that Mrs. Barnett's bedroom was the one with pictures of her family in it. I wondered where the husband in the picture was. Maybe he went to Hindman (the county seat) to get some groceries.
I sat my suitcase on the twin bed. The quilt looked hand-sewn. The pillows were fluffed to perfection. There was only three other pieces of furniture; a dresser, nightstand, and a drawer, all walnut. The closet was pretty compact, but still big enough for my simple belongings. I kept my clothes in my suitcase, placed the Bible on the bed, and, last.... our family picture on the nightstand, then hurried off to the kitchen.
Mrs. Barnett was in her house slippers and an old cotton gown, for it was six o clock, and I knew she probably went to bed early. The kitchen was rather simple, like the rest of the house. On the far corner stood a lonely old stove, and beside it a couple of walnut cabnets (mental note: Mrs. Barnett like walnut) and a simple sink. The wallpaper had hen designs on it. It kind of reminded me of our kitchen.
I sat down at the walnut kitchen table and Mrs. Barnett turned dead serious.
"I bet you've already wondered where my husband is," she sternly looked me in the eye. I nodded my head.
"Well, he died a couple of years ago as a result of a murder," she spoke with bitterness in her tone,"And left me widowed to take care of our daughter and farm. Our daughter is now in college, which left me alone, needing someone to help me take care of this big farm," then she guestured toward me," which leads us to this moment." A moment of silence passed by. I hate those. They are so awkward.
"So, son, every morning you will wake at dawn and milk Clarabell, the cow in the barn. Then you will gather the eggs from the hens in the hen house, feed them, and take the eggs in here for breakfast, then take the remaining ones down in the cellar to be sold at the farmer's market. After you eat breakfast, you will take the scraps out and feed them to the pigs. Then you will ride horseback to the fields, and tend to the crops. Like, I don't know, pull the weeds and stuff to make sure there will be a successful harvest this fall. Then ride horseback back to the barn, and take the three horses and cow out to graze in the pastures, then report back to the kitchen for lunch," she finally finished. I could tell Mrs. Barnett was a strictly buisness type person.
"Some of the extra chores you could do is take the weed-eater around the pond, mow the front yard, clean the barn, and so on. But you have to wait to do those in the afternoon after l you complete the chores you are required to do to pay your room and board here. After all the work you are going to do that day is finished, come back to the kitchen for supper. Any questions?" asked Mrs. Barnett. I solemnly shook my head no.
"Great, you start tommorrow. But, right now, help me get supper ready,'' ordered Mrs. Barnett. Then I thought to myself, "What in God's creation did I get myself into?" I really had no idea.
I heard a faint whisper in the dark.
"Seth, Seth, get up," I heard a voice whisper.
I moaned.
"Seth, someone is in the house, I know they are," Mrs. Barnett whispered to me. I immeadiately opened my eyes.
"Where?" I yawned.
"The front room," Mrs. Barnett was tore all to pieces. She handed me a gun and I tiptoed into the front room. I looked left. Nothing. I looked right. Nothing. I looked straight ahead. Still nothing.
"Seth! He's getting out of the kitchen door!" I rushed to the kitchen, but again saw nothing.
"Aw, Mrs. Barnett, I ain't nothing," I yawned, my eyes getting heavier.
"I know I saw someone," she sounded suprised.
"Well, if you hear or see anything else, you know where I'm at," I said, aggrivated. I was living with a hallucinated senile OCD middle aged widow. Wow. I went back into my room and plopped down on my pillow. Mrs. Barnett didn't come in my room any more that night.
I woke next morning to the sound of a faint rooster crow. I fumbled out of bed, tripping over the sheets and landing on the floor, making a loud thud. Quickly, I got into the shower then pulled on my clothes and hurried out to the hen house. Each hen had laid one egg today. Not bad. I got the basket off of the shelf and put 12 eggs into the basket. Then I hurried out to the barn, where I met the famous Clarabell. I sat on a rickety stool and finally got that chore done, running into the house with the morning collections, smelling the welcoming aroma of a freshley cooked breakfast.
"Morning, Seth," Mrs. Barnett called as I walked in the front door. She was apparentley a morning person. "Breakfast will be ready as soon as you bring me the eggs, dearest." I walked as if in a trance over to Mrs. Barnett. Immediatetly she scrambled some eggs and poured them into the buttered frying pan.
"Go ahead and set down, Seth. Breakfast likes just a hair from being ready." Mrs. Barnett seemed to be gushing with happiness. As if last night hadn't happened.
I placed myself into the rickety walnut chair. Mrs. Barnett busied herself about putting food on the table and finishing up the eggs. She tossed me a plate.
"Get whatever you like," she said, returning to her fidgeting. I ate some eggs and poked at my biscuit then decided to go ahead and get the rest of my chores done.
"Thank you, ma'am for the meal," I mumbled, then got up and walked out into the barn, getting a horse to head for the fields. Man, I didn't know what I'd find there.
On the trip to Pippa Passes yesterday (which seemed like years to me now) Jason had informed me on a few of the characters who lived nearby. (Well, a couple of miles apart, but... you know what I mean.) He said that there were two teenagers around my age, Jamie Lauren and Derek Lykins. Derek, he said, is 18, and Jamie, 15. I asked him to describe Derek, and he said he was a little shorter than me, not by much, had curly brown hair and emerald eyes. I asked him to describe Jamie, and he laughed. He said that was a suprise he rather not spoil. Then he laughed harder.
I was tending to the crops when I heard someone cry in the distance.
"HELP! Help!" cried an angelic voice in the distance. I immediately hopped on the horse and gallopped toward the sound. We rode for a couple of seconds to find a short, slim teenage girl battle a wandering bull. I looked at the saddle on my horse to check for a leather bag. And, just as I hoped,
I pulled out a worn but sturdy rope. Hoping my rope skills that my father had taught me would come in handy right about now, I did my best to lasso one of the raging bull's horns..... and it fit perfect! The raging bull caught wind of me. I quickly knotted the other end to a tree and got the heck to the other side. Wouldn't hold long, but hopefully, long enough. I ran over and got the girl and ran until I was completely out of breath.
"Thanks," said the girl.
"Awww, it wasn't nothing," I smiled.
"If you would've given me a couple more seconds that bull would have been halfway to my cousin's farm!" she snapped.
"Thanks for the gratitude," I breathed sarcastically. I hadn't noticed until now how beautiful this girl actually was. She had shoulder length red hair, eyes the color of Mrs. Barnett's walnut furniture collection, a pinch of freckles here and there. Again, she was kind of short, coming about a couple of inches below my chest. Although short, she made me speechless as I looked into her hypnotising walnut eyes.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she teased playfully. I finally zapped back to reality.
"Nnn...noo," I stammered. She giggled.
"I'm Jamie Lauren," she smiled, reaching her hand out as a peace offering.
"I...I'm..." and I swear I forgot my name.
"The teenage boy that came to work for the widow Mrs. Barnett?" Jamie giggled some more, and it made me.... yes, me, Seth Lakey blush tomato red.
"Um... Seth Lakey," I reached out my hand and shook hers.
"Not from around these parts, are you, hun?" she asked.
"I'm from Coal Branch, City of Salyersville, Magoffin County," I finally got my memory back.
"Oh, you mean Magoofin County?"
"We could do without the teasing," I felt anger rise in me. You could make me forget my name, you can tease me, you can make me forget how to breathe, but you don't say a word about my roots.
"Sorry," she smiled.
"Who... do you live with?"
"My grandmother, Vera Schwan," she almost whispered. "Dr. Schwan, you'll hear the locals call her."
"What happened to... your... pp... parents?" her eyes made me stutter.
She turned serious. "Car accident. Long ago."
"My dad died in a car crash too." It turned silent.
"Are you okay?" I asked. That was the worst thing I could've asked. She smiled then walked in a circle around me, making me gulp. She stopped when she went around once and came just a couple inches from my face. Her breathing on my face made my heart rate increase, oh, just about 90%.
"Honey, I can take care of myself, thank you very kindly," she nodded her head at me, then stepped back.
"Now, if you don't mind Ol' Pal, I'll be heading to the haceinda," Jamie slipped through the thickets, disappearing with the sunset.
It was about 6:30 in the afternoon when I came galloping in on Mrs. Barnett's horse, who she failed to mention its name. The mare was exquisite; her midnight coat had glossed in the sun earlier that day. Coming down from the tip of her head to the tip of her nose was a thick white line which contrasted unbelieveably with her shiny black coat. As she trotted back into the farm, I rubbed her for a while then gave her some oats. I traveled at almost lightspeed into Mrs. Barnett's kitchen to find the pleasing aroma of fried chicken and some cold, heaven to the tongue, iced tea.
"You're home late," Mrs. Barnett said, pouring me a glass of the iced tea. "I guess you'll get better with time."
"Thank you, ma'am," I nodded in respect as Mrs. Barnett slid the cup over to me across the table.
"Anything exciting keep you late?" asked Mrs. Barnett, a spec of a glistening sparkle in her weary eyes.
"I met Jamie Lauren," I replied. Mrs. Barnett was beginning to sound like my mom when I came home from school.... when I was 9.
Mrs. Barnett seemed to already know. "Did she give you a hard time, young'un?" she asked, smiling. My blush gave me away.
"I reckon," was all I could mutter out.
"I'm going to warn you, she's wilder than a cougar's cat," she smiled. It's a little too late, Mrs. Barnett. I just wish you would have told me that this morning. I picked around and finally ate some of my scrumptious meal. I asked to be excused (I though Mrs. Barnett was hardcore like that.)
"Hey, Seth," called Mrs. Barnett.
"Yeah?"
She giggled. "You don't have to asked to be excused."
I snuggled up in my bed, too warm for the blankets, so I just hugged myself. I skimmed through my Bible, wanting to read something that I could sleep on. When my father died, I kinda strayed from God. Although that was 6 years ago, I was just then getting close to him again. I looked down at the perfect verse...
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. - Deuteronomy 31:6
"Seth, I need to speak to you in the backyard," she choked. Her long, brown hair came to waist, and her light blue eyes were misty. I swallowed. This didn't look good.
"Sydney, can you take Bubby's books in the house?" I asked, handing her my tablet, not to be used again until August.
"Sure, Bubby!" giggled Sydney, who appeared not to sense something terrible was going on, to my relief. She skipped inside the house. I turned back to Momma. She hadn't looked this upset since the day Dad died... the day Sydney was born. He wrecked on his way to the hospital, never getting to see his beautiful, only daughter.
"I got fired today," she choked. I caressed her back, trying to soothe her. To her I was probably a giant, since she only measured to five foot 3. I even felt awkward sometimes, since I was 6 foot 5, tall for 16.
"Why, Momma?" I whispered, trying to hide the stressed look behind my eyes.
"Because I was too short to brush the new horse's hair," she bursted out into a bitter cry. Momma worked on a farm up Cow Creek grooming horses. She didn't get paid much, but enough to help support us. Momma worked hard at what she did, and she was good with the horses. But the ornery old man she worked for didn't care. He was downright mean to Momma sometimes. She wanted to quit, but where else could a girl with nothing but a 10th grade education find work?
"Momma, I can try to find work.... who wouldn't want a strong teenage boy to help around a farm or a shop or something?" I said, trying to comfort Momma. "Or the Wal-Mart in Paintsville, they hire workers without a high school diploma."
"I'll go with Milly tommorrow to see if they can," Momma sniffed. Milly Gaines was our grumpy next door neighbor. She worked at Wal Mart. As I said, she is always grumpy, but would do anything to help out a friend. Sydney came bursting out of the house.
"Momma, I saw you were crying, I thought this might cheer you up." She gave Momma a drawing of her, me, Momma, and, hand in hand with Momma.... Dad. Momma smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek and she scooped up Sydney and whispered softly, "I love my children."
Sydney was basically Momma's mini- me except for the fact she had a bit of freckles here and there. She stood to Momma's thighs, kinda short I guess you could say. Milly, our neighbor, had sandy hair with chocolate eyes. She was about 5 foot 10, kind of tall. (Well, I towered above her, but you know what I mean.) My feet hung out over the full bed Sydney and I shared. Momma was saving up for Sydney her own bed, and told her she would get one at age 7. She could hardly wait. I turned with what little room I had in our bed at the thought of Momma losing her job. This was it, I had to get a job. I could find someone to watch Sydney. I don't know who, but I knew for sure I had to figure out something. What if Wal Mart wouldn't hire Momma? A chill went up my spine. Seth, no, you have to have hope. Stop thinking like that.
Tommorrow Milly would take Momma to Wal Mart, it's official, Momma talked to her this afternoon, while she was shouting at some dogs (grumpy old Milly.) As I lie there thinking these things, I thought for sure I wouldn't be able to sleep until the sunshine shone through the window beside my bed. But, somehow, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep into the cold, bitter night.
The morning sun shone through my window like a ray of hope the next morining. I jumped out of bed and ran to the shower. Momma wasn't up yet, so I decided to go to the kitchen and make breakfast myself. I had just got dressed and went to the kitchen when Jason Gaines came bursting through the door. I should have expected this. Jason Gaines is Milly's husband's nephew who spends half of his summer at Milly's. I would say poor Jason..... but he is a headache, too. He's 14. Annoyingly. 14.
"HI, SETH!" Jason giggled. I rolled my eyes.
"Jason, you're going to wake up the dead, be quiet, Momma and Syd are still asleep."
"Actually, Seth, for your information, that is why I was sent over here. To tell Ms. Lakey to get ready. Aunt Millie has to be over there at 9:00, and it is already 8:00," Jason rolled his eyes in the same manner I had. Sometimes Jason and I were like brothers.... fights included. I sighed, and went to Mom's bedroom. I crept over to her bed and shook her gently.
"Momma, Milly wants you to get ready for Wal Mart, I'm making breakfast," I whispered. Immediately Momma sprung to life and practically did a cartwheel out of bed and into the bathroom. I retired to the kitchen where Jason was there to accompany me with the world's most annoying game... 20 questions. All. About. My. School. Year. This kid is killer.
"Jason, do you want to stay for breakfast?" Momma walked in the kitchen. She had worn her best skirt and formal top (her only decent top and untattered skirt) and makeup, rare for momma, on. Her brown hair was neatly pulled back into a loose bun. Momma was ready for the big Wal Mart.
"If you don't mind, ma'am," Jason smiled at Momma. He was always curtious to adults and women, I have to give the kid credit.
"Of course not," smiled Momma. "Seth, why don't you wake up Sydney and I'll set the table?" It was more of an order than a question, for Momma whisked the food off of the stove.
"I will," I mumbled, going back into my bedroom to wake Sydney up. The door was cracked, and I could hear Jason talking to Momma.
"My aunt in Knott County needs someone to tend for her farm, she's getting well up in years," he began, "and would pay room, board, meals, and a little salary for extra work for a farmhand. I mentioned something about Seth, and she said that she would love to have him." It was perfect! One less mouth for Momma to feed, and I could send Momma and Sydney the extra money home! An abousloutely flawless plan. I was sure Momma would take up the offer.
"I couldn't ask Seth to do that," she replied,"And who would watch Sydney? I can't afford a babysitter, even with the Wal Mart job." My hopes sank. Momma was too afraid to ask me.
"Ms. Lakey, I'm 14, and wouldn't mind to watch her anytime for nothing if you wish," Jason pleaded. He must really love this aunt. Or really want me to get this job.
"I'll ponder it," Momma sighed doubtfully. I stopped eavesdropping and went over to Syd.
"Come, on, little Syd, time for breakfast," I whispered. Sydney drearily opened her eyes, a light sleeper. She yawned. Her nostrils flared when she smelt the delicious food in the kitchen. She wearily drug her arms up toward me.
"Carry me," seemed to be the mumble out of her mouth. I laughed and scooped her up and packed her into the kitchen.
"Oh, there you are Seth," Momma inquired, not taking her eyes off her table-setting work, "I was starting to think you tripped over the bedpost again," she added, for Sydney's laughing benefit. I had tripped over the bedpost when I was 14 and broke my leg. The only clumsy moment in my life, and no one would let me live it down. Of course, Momma's remark made Jason giggle. I just decided to ignore it, and we all (some, unconsciously, like Sydney, laughs) sat down to a hearty morning meal. Momma had just got done eating when Milly walked through the door and laughed at Jason, his mouth full of biscuits and gravy.
"Jason, I see Lora has abducted you to her breakfast table," laughed Milly, and Momma laughed too. (By the way, if you didn't know, Momma's name is Lora.)
"Well, Mills, you ready to hit the road?" asked Momma, a spark in her blue eyes.
"Let's roll," smiled Milly. "Kids, be good!" they both yelled, then laughed when they realized they had said it at the same time, disappearing down the road in Milly's old car.
A while later, Sydney, Jason, and I had somehow managed to end up outside in the front yard, teaching Sydney how to ride Jason's bike. Then Momma and Jason's conversation from this morning popped up in my mind.
"Jason, I overheard you and Momma talking about your aunt in Knott County," I casually mentioned.
"You did?"
"Yeah, and I thought it was awful nice of you to suggest babysitting Syd," I added, trying to brown nose him.
"Yeah, she really wants a really strong man, but, I'm 14 and wimpy, and you're 16 and....let's just say, not wimpy," he chuckled to himself. I will take that as a complement.... I think.
"You think I can talk Momma into letting me go work for her?" I asked.
"I hope so," Jason almost whispered.
As we watched Milly's old car joloppy down the road, all of our eyes watched in anticipation. Had Momma gotten the job? Mr. Gaines, Milly's husband, came rushing over to the house.
"I hope your Momma got that job," he choked, feeling the same anxiety as I had.
"Me, too," was all I could manage to struggle out of my mouth. As Momma stepped out of the car, my eyes darted to the ground, scared to death of her expression. I knew I had to face my fears. So, slowly, I looked up and studied Momma's expression--and knew not to ask anything. She was wearily dragging herself into the house, dragging her feet, head bowed. Everyone said nothing. Not even Jason or Sydney. Milly bowed her head also and a look of frustration shown. I decided not to ask. I just looked at Momma, and said,
"I'm going to Knott County."
Momma wrung her hands as I packed my things. I had the suitcase Momma and Dad had used on their honeymoon, not much and worn out, but it could hold all of my few possessions. I wish we weren't poor. I wish Dad wasn't dead. Then I wouldn't have to go. But we were poor. And Dad was dead. Stupid reality. I carefully folded my jeans and old t shirts. Then, when Momma wasn't looking, I slipped in my favorite picture: Me, 10 years old, Momma pregnant with Syd, and Dad with his hands around all of us. Then I tucked in neatly Dad's old Bible. It had been his father's. I zipped my package of belongings carefully and drug them out to Milly's car. I was Knott County bound.
Jason hung out with me in the backseat, informing me on his aunt. She lived in Pippa Passes, he said. Her name was Katlyn Barnett,.She was in her 40s, had pale brown hair, on the verge of turning grey, had chesnut eyes with a gold ring around the pupil, wore grey glasses with biofocials, and usually wore an old t shirt with a tattered skirt. Her farm was huge. This put a feeling of dread... and excitement... over me. Could I be any help at all on such a large farm? I clutched the Bible in my suitcase and gulped.
Finally, after what seemed almost hours of driving (only about 45 minutes, but, still) we pulled upon a little run down farmhouse and a huge weathered black barn with a couple of boards missing, and beside that, a wooden hen house. That would probably be some of my first jobs: repairing the barn and house. Also, if you squinted, you could see fields of corn and wheat behind the barn and a pond aside from everything. On the porch, sitting in a rocker, was what I believed to be Jason's relative; exactly the way Jason described her, not a detail wrong. In addition to Jason's rightness, her farm was huge; exactly as big as I expected.
The first time I met Mrs. Barnett I could tell this summer was going to be different than any other; I just couldn't tell how.
"Mildred! It's so good to see you!" Mrs. Barnett exclaimed, throwing her arms around her.
"I've missed you, Katlyn," Milly said to her husband's sister.
"You haven't changed a bit, Mildred," continued Mrs. Barnett. While Milly and Mrs. Barnett had their litttle reunion, Jason started showing me around the farm. We went over to the pond and stuck our feet into the refreshing, cold water. After a while, we heard a call in the distance.
"Jason! Come on! It's time to leave!" shouted Milly. I guessed that was a call for me, too. Mrs. Barnett and I watched Milly and Jason pull out of the driveway. When they were completely out of sight, Mrs. Barnett turned to me.
"Go ahead and put your stuff up in the guest bedroom, Seth, then come into the kitchen. I want to talk to you," Mrs. Barnett almost whispered, then turned and went back inside the house.
The guest bedroom was easy to find. There was only two bedrooms in the whole house. I could easily tell that Mrs. Barnett's bedroom was the one with pictures of her family in it. I wondered where the husband in the picture was. Maybe he went to Hindman (the county seat) to get some groceries.
I sat my suitcase on the twin bed. The quilt looked hand-sewn. The pillows were fluffed to perfection. There was only three other pieces of furniture; a dresser, nightstand, and a drawer, all walnut. The closet was pretty compact, but still big enough for my simple belongings. I kept my clothes in my suitcase, placed the Bible on the bed, and, last.... our family picture on the nightstand, then hurried off to the kitchen.
Mrs. Barnett was in her house slippers and an old cotton gown, for it was six o clock, and I knew she probably went to bed early. The kitchen was rather simple, like the rest of the house. On the far corner stood a lonely old stove, and beside it a couple of walnut cabnets (mental note: Mrs. Barnett like walnut) and a simple sink. The wallpaper had hen designs on it. It kind of reminded me of our kitchen.
I sat down at the walnut kitchen table and Mrs. Barnett turned dead serious.
"I bet you've already wondered where my husband is," she sternly looked me in the eye. I nodded my head.
"Well, he died a couple of years ago as a result of a murder," she spoke with bitterness in her tone,"And left me widowed to take care of our daughter and farm. Our daughter is now in college, which left me alone, needing someone to help me take care of this big farm," then she guestured toward me," which leads us to this moment." A moment of silence passed by. I hate those. They are so awkward.
"So, son, every morning you will wake at dawn and milk Clarabell, the cow in the barn. Then you will gather the eggs from the hens in the hen house, feed them, and take the eggs in here for breakfast, then take the remaining ones down in the cellar to be sold at the farmer's market. After you eat breakfast, you will take the scraps out and feed them to the pigs. Then you will ride horseback to the fields, and tend to the crops. Like, I don't know, pull the weeds and stuff to make sure there will be a successful harvest this fall. Then ride horseback back to the barn, and take the three horses and cow out to graze in the pastures, then report back to the kitchen for lunch," she finally finished. I could tell Mrs. Barnett was a strictly buisness type person.
"Some of the extra chores you could do is take the weed-eater around the pond, mow the front yard, clean the barn, and so on. But you have to wait to do those in the afternoon after l you complete the chores you are required to do to pay your room and board here. After all the work you are going to do that day is finished, come back to the kitchen for supper. Any questions?" asked Mrs. Barnett. I solemnly shook my head no.
"Great, you start tommorrow. But, right now, help me get supper ready,'' ordered Mrs. Barnett. Then I thought to myself, "What in God's creation did I get myself into?" I really had no idea.
I heard a faint whisper in the dark.
"Seth, Seth, get up," I heard a voice whisper.
I moaned.
"Seth, someone is in the house, I know they are," Mrs. Barnett whispered to me. I immeadiately opened my eyes.
"Where?" I yawned.
"The front room," Mrs. Barnett was tore all to pieces. She handed me a gun and I tiptoed into the front room. I looked left. Nothing. I looked right. Nothing. I looked straight ahead. Still nothing.
"Seth! He's getting out of the kitchen door!" I rushed to the kitchen, but again saw nothing.
"Aw, Mrs. Barnett, I ain't nothing," I yawned, my eyes getting heavier.
"I know I saw someone," she sounded suprised.
"Well, if you hear or see anything else, you know where I'm at," I said, aggrivated. I was living with a hallucinated senile OCD middle aged widow. Wow. I went back into my room and plopped down on my pillow. Mrs. Barnett didn't come in my room any more that night.
I woke next morning to the sound of a faint rooster crow. I fumbled out of bed, tripping over the sheets and landing on the floor, making a loud thud. Quickly, I got into the shower then pulled on my clothes and hurried out to the hen house. Each hen had laid one egg today. Not bad. I got the basket off of the shelf and put 12 eggs into the basket. Then I hurried out to the barn, where I met the famous Clarabell. I sat on a rickety stool and finally got that chore done, running into the house with the morning collections, smelling the welcoming aroma of a freshley cooked breakfast.
"Morning, Seth," Mrs. Barnett called as I walked in the front door. She was apparentley a morning person. "Breakfast will be ready as soon as you bring me the eggs, dearest." I walked as if in a trance over to Mrs. Barnett. Immediatetly she scrambled some eggs and poured them into the buttered frying pan.
"Go ahead and set down, Seth. Breakfast likes just a hair from being ready." Mrs. Barnett seemed to be gushing with happiness. As if last night hadn't happened.
I placed myself into the rickety walnut chair. Mrs. Barnett busied herself about putting food on the table and finishing up the eggs. She tossed me a plate.
"Get whatever you like," she said, returning to her fidgeting. I ate some eggs and poked at my biscuit then decided to go ahead and get the rest of my chores done.
"Thank you, ma'am for the meal," I mumbled, then got up and walked out into the barn, getting a horse to head for the fields. Man, I didn't know what I'd find there.
On the trip to Pippa Passes yesterday (which seemed like years to me now) Jason had informed me on a few of the characters who lived nearby. (Well, a couple of miles apart, but... you know what I mean.) He said that there were two teenagers around my age, Jamie Lauren and Derek Lykins. Derek, he said, is 18, and Jamie, 15. I asked him to describe Derek, and he said he was a little shorter than me, not by much, had curly brown hair and emerald eyes. I asked him to describe Jamie, and he laughed. He said that was a suprise he rather not spoil. Then he laughed harder.
I was tending to the crops when I heard someone cry in the distance.
"HELP! Help!" cried an angelic voice in the distance. I immediately hopped on the horse and gallopped toward the sound. We rode for a couple of seconds to find a short, slim teenage girl battle a wandering bull. I looked at the saddle on my horse to check for a leather bag. And, just as I hoped,
I pulled out a worn but sturdy rope. Hoping my rope skills that my father had taught me would come in handy right about now, I did my best to lasso one of the raging bull's horns..... and it fit perfect! The raging bull caught wind of me. I quickly knotted the other end to a tree and got the heck to the other side. Wouldn't hold long, but hopefully, long enough. I ran over and got the girl and ran until I was completely out of breath.
"Thanks," said the girl.
"Awww, it wasn't nothing," I smiled.
"If you would've given me a couple more seconds that bull would have been halfway to my cousin's farm!" she snapped.
"Thanks for the gratitude," I breathed sarcastically. I hadn't noticed until now how beautiful this girl actually was. She had shoulder length red hair, eyes the color of Mrs. Barnett's walnut furniture collection, a pinch of freckles here and there. Again, she was kind of short, coming about a couple of inches below my chest. Although short, she made me speechless as I looked into her hypnotising walnut eyes.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she teased playfully. I finally zapped back to reality.
"Nnn...noo," I stammered. She giggled.
"I'm Jamie Lauren," she smiled, reaching her hand out as a peace offering.
"I...I'm..." and I swear I forgot my name.
"The teenage boy that came to work for the widow Mrs. Barnett?" Jamie giggled some more, and it made me.... yes, me, Seth Lakey blush tomato red.
"Um... Seth Lakey," I reached out my hand and shook hers.
"Not from around these parts, are you, hun?" she asked.
"I'm from Coal Branch, City of Salyersville, Magoffin County," I finally got my memory back.
"Oh, you mean Magoofin County?"
"We could do without the teasing," I felt anger rise in me. You could make me forget my name, you can tease me, you can make me forget how to breathe, but you don't say a word about my roots.
"Sorry," she smiled.
"Who... do you live with?"
"My grandmother, Vera Schwan," she almost whispered. "Dr. Schwan, you'll hear the locals call her."
"What happened to... your... pp... parents?" her eyes made me stutter.
She turned serious. "Car accident. Long ago."
"My dad died in a car crash too." It turned silent.
"Are you okay?" I asked. That was the worst thing I could've asked. She smiled then walked in a circle around me, making me gulp. She stopped when she went around once and came just a couple inches from my face. Her breathing on my face made my heart rate increase, oh, just about 90%.
"Honey, I can take care of myself, thank you very kindly," she nodded her head at me, then stepped back.
"Now, if you don't mind Ol' Pal, I'll be heading to the haceinda," Jamie slipped through the thickets, disappearing with the sunset.
It was about 6:30 in the afternoon when I came galloping in on Mrs. Barnett's horse, who she failed to mention its name. The mare was exquisite; her midnight coat had glossed in the sun earlier that day. Coming down from the tip of her head to the tip of her nose was a thick white line which contrasted unbelieveably with her shiny black coat. As she trotted back into the farm, I rubbed her for a while then gave her some oats. I traveled at almost lightspeed into Mrs. Barnett's kitchen to find the pleasing aroma of fried chicken and some cold, heaven to the tongue, iced tea.
"You're home late," Mrs. Barnett said, pouring me a glass of the iced tea. "I guess you'll get better with time."
"Thank you, ma'am," I nodded in respect as Mrs. Barnett slid the cup over to me across the table.
"Anything exciting keep you late?" asked Mrs. Barnett, a spec of a glistening sparkle in her weary eyes.
"I met Jamie Lauren," I replied. Mrs. Barnett was beginning to sound like my mom when I came home from school.... when I was 9.
Mrs. Barnett seemed to already know. "Did she give you a hard time, young'un?" she asked, smiling. My blush gave me away.
"I reckon," was all I could mutter out.
"I'm going to warn you, she's wilder than a cougar's cat," she smiled. It's a little too late, Mrs. Barnett. I just wish you would have told me that this morning. I picked around and finally ate some of my scrumptious meal. I asked to be excused (I though Mrs. Barnett was hardcore like that.)
"Hey, Seth," called Mrs. Barnett.
"Yeah?"
She giggled. "You don't have to asked to be excused."
I snuggled up in my bed, too warm for the blankets, so I just hugged myself. I skimmed through my Bible, wanting to read something that I could sleep on. When my father died, I kinda strayed from God. Although that was 6 years ago, I was just then getting close to him again. I looked down at the perfect verse...
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. - Deuteronomy 31:6
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