Planting His Dream

by Andrew Grey

  “Doesn’t look that way to me. You said you had plans today. They wouldn’t be with Javi, would they?” His grandmother leered at him and then broke into a smile.

  “Grandma, I think you’ve had too much coffee. I was going to go into the park in town, and I asked Javi if he wanted to go, but….” He paused, then said, “I don’t know if everything is all right with his family. I know it’s none of my business and they’ll be gone in a few weeks, but it seems strange to me, that’s all.” He’d seen how quiet and on edge they all were, but what really concerned him were the scars he’d felt on Javi’s back. There was violence in Javi’s life, and Foster hated that with everything he had.

  “You were only there for a few minutes,” his mother said. “It could have been a bad day, or you could be wrong. They have a right to their privacy.” His mother smiled and motioned out the window. Javi was turning to walk up the drive, carrying a bundle in his arms. Foster finished his breakfast and then got up, meeting Javi at the door.

  “Come on in. Are you hungry?” Foster asked.

  “No, I’m good.” Javi handed him the clothes, and Foster showed Javi where his dry stuff was. Then they went on through to the kitchen, where Grandma Katie proceeded to ply Javi with food.

  “What do you have planned?” she asked.

  “Foster is taking me to the park. We’re going hiking and things.” Javi once again ate like he was starving, even though he said he’d eaten. “It’s been a while since I had some time just to have fun.”

  Foster got a small cooler, then packed some sodas and snacks. By the time he was ready, Javi had finished eating. “I’ll be back in time for afternoon chores,” he told his mother.

  “I do know how to bring in the herd and milk, you know,” she teased.

  “I know. But I worry about you and Grandma.” They did a lot, and he hoped they weren’t being overworked. Not that either of them was likely to tell him.

  “We’re fine. It’s you we’re worried about. So go have some fun.” She squeezed his cheeks between her hands, and Foster rolled his eyes.

  “I have my phone if you need me,” he said, then got out of Dodge.

  In the truck, he put on some oldies, and they sang along.

  “You like this?” Javi asked when “Mamma Mia” came on.

  “Yeah,” Foster admitted. ABBA was his guilty pleasure, and he probably wouldn’t have told anyone else. But he wanted Javi to know. “Is it lame?”

  Javi laughed and turned up the volume.

  They reached the parking lot two songs later, both grinning like idiots. Foster pulled in. It was quiet, with just a few other cars there. Tall, thick trees shaded everything. Foster closed the truck door. “My dad used to bring me here.” He scanned the area, smiling at the old swing set and monkey bars that he used to play on. They were now painted bright colors. He remembered his dad teaching him how to pump his legs to swing himself, right over there.

  “Where are we going?” Javi asked, pulling Foster out of his daydream.

  “The path starts there,” he answered, pointing, and they walked that way, passing another couple as they emerged from the trail.

  “Foster?” the woman questioned.

  “Sally?” He smiled as he recognized his high school friend. He hadn’t seen her in years. “I heard you moved to St. Louis.”

  “I did. Are you still at the farm?” she asked, and he nodded. The man next to her hummed softly, and Sally colored. “This is my fiancé, Brad.” She giggled happily. “We’re just visiting, and I wanted to show him the sights.” There was a little mischief in her eyes, and Foster wondered what she and Brad had been up to on their walk. “We came back to tell Mom and Dad.” She wriggled her fingers.

  “I’m happy for you. Congratulations,” Foster said. “This is a friend, Javi. We were just going to take a walk.”

  “Your dad gave you the time off?” she asked, and Foster shook his head, the smile slipping from his face. Sally placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. My mom told me he passed, but it didn’t click right away.” She pulled away from Brad and gathered Foster into her arms. “Your dad was so cool. Remember how he had the entire class out so Mrs. Philips could show us where milk came from? He took us all around your farm and explained everything. Then he gave us some cheese your grandmother had made.”

  Foster tried to remember. “That was, like, fifth grade.”

  “Yeah. But it was still cool, especially when we got to milk one of the cows.”

  Now he remembered. Sally had been one of the few kids to actually volunteer to give it a try. “I remember. I think the cow had some sort of complex after that.”

  “I bet she did, after Billy Madison tried to milk her like he was holding a baseball or something. She kicked at him, I think.” They chuckled at the memory.

  “Dear, we need to get back. Your mother is expecting us,” Brad said gently. “It was nice to meet you.” He shook hands with both Foster and Javi. Foster and Sally shared a brief hug, and then the couple walked toward their car.

  “She seems nice.”

  “He needs to pull the stick out of his butt,” Foster said and then laughed. “God, that was awful. I only met the guy for five minutes, but he seemed….” He shrugged, and they continued toward the trailhead.

  “Did all that really happen, with the cow?” Javi asked.

  “It did.” He’d completely forgotten, and now he wondered what else he’d put out of his mind.

  They entered the trail, the leaves thickening overhead, sunlight reaching the ground only in dappled patches.

  “Is that the creek?” Javi asked as the gurgle of water caught on the breeze.

  “Yeah. It’s just up the way.” Foster led them to the bridge over the small creek. “When I was a kid, this was where I always left the main path. There’s an old one that goes along the creek.” He pointed.

  Javi walked over to where it began, then took a few steps. “Come on.” He grinned and began walking.

  “I haven’t been this way in years,” Foster said as he followed. “There used to be frogs in the low spots, and we’d catch them in Boy Scouts and have jumping contests.” He shook his head as he remembered his dad cheering his frog on. The trail followed the creek, and soon the croak of a big old bullfrog reached his ears. He smiled, and a splash followed when they got too close.

  They were alone—no voices of other people, no moos of cows. This place was utterly silent other than the breeze and the rustle of the leaves. “I used to think I was the only one,” Foster said, just talking off the top of his head.

  “You mean like us?” Javi asked.

  “Yeah. I used to think there couldn’t be anyone else like me and that there was something wrong with me. I remember going to church and praying to be like everyone else.” Foster stopped, looking up at the canopy overhead. “Things would be easier if I was.”

  “Yeah,” Javi said, moving to stand next to him, touching Foster’s hand. “I never thought about that. I used to wish I could be like the kids of the people we worked for and have a house, sleep in a real bed instead of one that folded out into a table during the day, crammed with two other kids.”

  “I resented living on a farm for a long time. I wanted a house in town and a dad with a regular job that didn’t require me to work all the time too.” He’d never thought how lucky he was. He’d never worried about where his next meal was coming from, and he had a nice house with his own room and a mom who did his laundry and cooked for him. “I thought I had it really bad.”

  “I shouldn’t complain. There are migrants who have it worse than us. Some families lose their transportation and can’t afford to get something new. Then they’re stuck in one area, and they can go months without work.” Javi stopped and took his hand. “I had this friend, Maricruz, when I was Ricky’s age. Our families traveled a lot together, especially in Southern California and Georgia, of all places. After a year we parted ways because my father got angry at her father. They stayed in Californi
a, and we went on.” Javi shivered even in the heat, and Foster pulled him into his arms. “I heard later that my dad was drunk and got into a fight with her dad, so they left. He’s always got to be the one in charge and making the decisions, even when he doesn’t know shit.”

  “What happened?” Foster whispered.

  “When we got to California the next winter, I asked around, but nobody knew anything until I found one of her friends, Juanita Suarez. Big girl who took no crap from nobody. I liked her. She said their truck broke down and wasn’t repairable, so they ended up staying. Her dad tried to find work, and so did her mom….”

  Chills ran down Foster’s spine. “Jesus.”

  “One of the hangers-on. We get plenty of people who visit the camps, supplying everything that people who want to forget about their lives could use. He apparently took an interest in Mari. She was pretty and sort of quiet, with huge doe eyes that you noticed right off. Next thing everyone knew, she went with him and didn’t come back.” Javi pulled away, and Foster looked at him blankly. He wasn’t sure what Javi was trying to say.

  “Was she dead?” he asked.

  “She might as well have been. I never saw her again, but everyone in the camp knew that she was most likely hooked and working as a prostitute. That’s what happened to girls who went with guys like that. They were full of sweet words, but only pain on the other end.”

  “I guess I’m missing your point.”

  “Daniela is pretty and guys have approached her out there, but they have to get past my mother, and by the time that might happen, we’re packing up to move on.” Javi smirked. “It’s one of the only benefits of migrating all the time. Sometimes you get to leave your problems behind.” Javi started walking again, fast, and Foster stretched his legs to keep up. “The real shit deal about this is that there’s no one to stand up for us. Most people don’t see us. All they want is for us to pick whatever they want or hang their drywall, take what they’re willing to give, and then go away. Don’t stay, don’t clog our schools, and don’t expect fair treatment, especially from the police.” He continued striding down the path that went close to the creek. Foster hoped he didn’t slip, but Javi was on a tear.

  “What can we do?” Foster asked.

  “Do?” Javi stopped and whipped around. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s all over the country, everywhere. My family and I live in a van, and we generally get paid cash because no one will pay Social Security for people who work for them a few weeks and move on.”

  “Yeah. You’re private contractors,” Foster said, almost to himself. Because that was how everyone got around the requirement.

  “Exactly. And most migrant workers are illegals, so those of us who aren’t get lumped in with them and we get no help. Because we move, school is often a problem. But Daniela and Ricky have to go to school. One year they went to eight schools and learned nothing because they were always behind… until we got the teacher who was willing to move with us, at least part of the year.” His voice kept getting louder. “I want a better life for Ricky and Daniela. And for me too. We deserve it, but I don’t know how to bring it about. This is all my parents know, and they aren’t going to stop traveling. Neither of them has any particular skills. My dad got no more schooling than Ricky has now, and he doesn’t see the need for more to pick peaches and cut asparagus. So we’ll be here for a few more weeks and then go south a little ways, probably pick beans somewhere until other fruit starts coming in. Then lettuces, maybe pears and apples. Who knows? Head south once again and start all over during the winter. We’ll all be a year older, no further ahead, and just as vulnerable.” Javi glared at him. “Do? There’s nothing you, me, or anyone else can do. It’s just the way it is!” His voice echoed off the trees, mixing with the wind, which carried it away.

  Javi turned toward the running water, staring as it flowed by. “Things are the way they are,” he finally mumbled. “There’s nothing I can do to change it.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. You can change things for yourself if you wanted to.”

  “You mean leave my family?” Javi asked, turning to look over his shoulder. “I can’t do that. As much as I hate the life we lead, never staying in the same place, they need me. What would Ricky and Daniela do if I wasn’t there? Should I just leave my mother?” Foster noticed that Javi seemed to have no concern about leaving his father. “For what? What opportunity do I have? I’m a Latino kid that no one is going to trust. I have no education and no training for anything.”

  “You work hard and you’re honest. That goes a long way.”

  “How do you know I’m honest?” Javi asked. “What if I’m just some thieving spic?”

  “What?” Foster stood next to Javi.

  “You don’t know me that well. I’ve only worked with you for a few days, and we—” Javi stumbled vocally, his eyes losing their intense energy and hatred.

  “So you’re telling me…,” Foster prompted. “What? That you want a different life, but aren’t willing to do what’s required to get it?” He caught Javi’s gaze in his and held it, not backing down. “I know you’re willing to work hard, so come up with an idea like Grandma said and make it happen.”

  “But my family….”

  “Are Ricky and Daniela your children?” Foster shook his head. “They’re your father and mother’s. They had them and they’re responsible for them. If you leave, get an education, make something of yourself, find your own way, whatever… aren’t you helping them?”

  “You don’t understand. The only way we’ll survive is if we stick together,” Javi said.

  “Who told you that?” Foster challenged. “Let me guess. Your father.” He knew he was right by the slight sting around Javi’s eyes. “He doesn’t want you to leave. This past week, who’s been bringing in the money? Who’s taking care of the kids? You are. While he’s out drinking.” He hated attacking Javi’s father like this and knew very well that it could backfire and Javi could hate him for saying something bad about his dad. “You’re the hardworking one, the honest one. Whoever told you that you weren’t good enough was so full of shit—” Foster’s hands clenched into fists. “You’re just as capable as anyone else and can do whatever you want to do.”

  “Well….”

  “Let me ask you this. How long do you think it will be before your dad decides it’s time for you to get married? Then what?” Foster knew that answer from the way Javi paled.

  “He’s already asked.” Javi sighed. “I can’t leave them because they need me.”

  Foster had no further arguments and remained quiet. Instead he placed his arm around Javi’s waist and gently tugged him closer. “I wish I had answers for you.”

  “There aren’t any. Like I said before, things are the way they are, and it’s what I have to learn to accept and deal with. Dreams and wishes are as useful as rain after a hurricane.” Javi leaned against him and grew quiet, his posture becoming less rigid, the storm inside lessening, Foster hoped.

  “Feel better?” Foster asked after a while as the sun got higher in the sky and the warmth of the day began setting in.

  “Yes,” Javi whispered. “I can’t believe I went off like that.”

  “Sometimes we all need to let out what’s been building up inside.” Foster knew one thing: he was going to try to remember how lucky he was the next time he felt put upon and like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He had choices and opportunities. He had a farm, a business he’d inherited from his father that he could choose to put his effort into and to try to make better and grow. Heck, if they wanted, his family could sell the farm and he could take his life in a whole different direction. That idea wasn’t a good one as far as he was concerned, but it was a possibility.

  “It’s all right.” He needed to get his mind back in the here and now.

  “Did you mean what you said… about me?”

  “Yes. I don’t lie.” Foster turned to Javi with a smile and guided their lips together. The kiss was gentle, F
oster trying to soothe and reassure. Although it was only a few seconds, the heat that simmered below the surface when they were together fanned to life. Javi moved closer, and Foster held him tighter, deepening the kiss as heat built. Foster wasn’t sure if it was the sun or from Javi, and he didn’t care.

  Javi clung to him, tightening his hands around his back, sliding lower to cup Foster’s ass.

  Foster loved that and shoved their groins together, rocking slightly to add friction.

  “Foster.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart,” Foster breathed. His mind was already clouding with desire, and all he could think about was Javi—his scent, rich and woody, his taste, salty sweetness, and the feel of his hard muscle under his hands.

  “We’re out here on the path, and there are insects buzzing around us.” Javi chuckled, and Foster blinked a few times before stepping back. The gnats had started to swarm, so they hurried back the way they’d come. The damn things followed them until they reached the edge of the woods.

  The two of them fell onto the grass, laughing. “I’m sorry. I should have thought about that.” He’d completely lost track of what was happening around them. If someone had come down the trail, he wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. “I should get the cooler so we can have something to drink.” It was indeed getting warmer, and the breeze from earlier seemed to have died away to nothing. Foster got up and jogged to the truck, brought back the cooler, and handed Javi a Coke.

  “I guess we got carried away.” Javi popped open the can, drank, and sighed. “I never get these.” He smacked his lips and looked as though he was holding something special.

  “Coke?”

  “Yeah. When you don’t have much to eat, soda isn’t high on the list of things to buy.”

  It had never occurred to Foster to think of something so… normal as being special. “I guess you’re right.” He opened his own can and took a sip, wondering what other things he took for granted that weren’t part of Javi’s world. All he could conclude was that he had a lot to learn and even more to be thankful for.