by Bart Tuma
After uncounted minutes Gracie lowered her arms and looked Laura straight in the eyes while softly brushing her tears away. Without a word she turned and walked into Laura apartment.
As in all days the heat of the land grew to meet the morning air, and the wind stated its presence. A gust whipped Laura’s long hair against her face with the reminder it was today and not the terrible past. Laura looked around as if she would find someone, but she knew there was no one. Gracie’s touch had held her warm. Gracie was gone, but not her words. “What type of God do you follow?” Laura knew her God, Christ, had died so others don’t need to die. She also knew she needed to talk to Him. Laura prayed as she stood, feeling the wind skim across her face.
God, I’m so sorry. Gracie’s right, you haven’t done terrible things. Terrible things happened, but you didn’t cause them and You didn’t change from the loving God I always knew. Last night that guy, Erik, reminded me that You still touch people’s lives. I guess I have to allow the possibility that You still love me with the same fresh touch as the first day I met you. I heard that hope in Erik’s voice.
No, no. Your love is not a possibility; it is the reality. Just because I don’t feel the wind one day doesn’t mean the wind is gone. Everyone knows the wind will return. Just because I don’t feel You one day doesn’t change the certainty of Your presence.
All I have to do is feel at the hugs of Gracie or hear the excitement of Erik and I know it’s You.
“Girl are just going to stand out there and let me do all the work?” Gracie yelled from the cabin.
“What are you doing? You walked away without saying a word,” Laura asked as she followed Gracie to the doorway, but Laura didn’t forget her prayer.
Gracie had picked up a light box of socks and intimates off the set of drawers and headed back to put it in the pickup like she was part of the moving crew. “What was I supposed to say? So I went to work rather than talking. There’s too much talking done, and not enough doing. In my book, doing is always better than talking anyway. Doing makes a difference, talking can make things worse.
“I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. You just told me a horrible, sad event that happen to you, and I could hardly breathe, let alone talk.
“But you can’t keep reliving that day. If we kept talking you’d live it again.You’ve got to move on. So, the only thing I can do is help you pack. Do you want this in the back or front seat with you?”
“The front will be fine.” Laura went to opened the pickup door. They both worked until all her belongings were out of the unit and into the pickup and Gracie again took her position leaning on the die of the truck once again. She needed the rest and to say her goodbyes.
“Gracie, you’re right.”
“You say that like its some rare occasion. I’m always right, and if you don’t believe it I’ll tell you again, “Gracie said with a laugh.
“It wasn’t God’s fault, and I really don’t know whose fault it was. The problem was I forgot He was the one person I needed to turn to, and I didn’t, and I’ve been so lonely since.”
“Thats good to know, but don’t break out in Christian talk thinking I’m going to be one. I don’t need all the guilt trips. I’m a sinner and I know it, and I know there is a God somewhere, but I don’t need a church full of Christians telling me everything I’m doing wrong.”
“But it’s not about what you’ve done wrong, but about how much He loves you.” Laura said.
“That isn’t what you were saying last night, and I heard the same things from Christians for years when I lived in the South. No thanks. Now about your apartment you’re leaving: I’ll have to go through it with my white glove to know if you’re going to get any of your deposit back, and you know you didn’t give a proper two weeks notice. I’ve got people lined up every day for that unit and I’ve been telling them no.”
Once again Gracie changed the subject, and Laura knew there would be no more talking about God.
They both knew there was no deposit and the rooms couldn’t show more damage. Notice wasn’t necessary for the almost empty motel, and Laura smiled as Gracie reverted to her old role.
“I’ll come back and visit one of these days.”
“No, you won’t, so don’t even say you will. You just get that job, and be happy and once in a while remember this cranky lady. If that God of yours really does listen and you’re on talking terms again you might send a prayer or two my way.”
“I’ll guarantee that.”
Gracie lifted her weight from the pickup and shuffled back to her room.
Chapter Fourteen
Erik’s only problem driving home after his evening with Laura was keeping his eyes open. He didn’t think of Laura, or his mother, or anything but making sure the ditch didn’t meet his tires.
Once back at the bunkhouse Erik didn’t even bother to undress. He remembered no dreams as he slept.
The next morning Erik awoke without feeling the cuts in his face.
I have to fix those blinds. The light came freely through slats that were misaligned by a pull string broken years earlier. Erik could also hear the sound of a grinding stone in the nearby shop. Uncle Henry probably had already been at work for hours, as he never slept past 5:30. Out of total exhaustion, Erik had slept until 8:30.
I have some explaining to do, and I might as well apologize right now. Right now would have to wait until Erik took a shower to attempt to clean off dirt from the last two days.The bunkhouse shower was a simple stall with rust lining its corners. The shower head had most of its holes plugged by the hard water’s calcium, but it served its purpose. The water felt refreshing and Erik noticed even his back felt better. No matter how good it felt Erik had other matters to attend to. He exited the shower, toweled off, dressed and headed to the shop and the noise of the grinder.
A steady stream of sparks flying from the grinder’s wheel outlined Henry’s profile as he held a dulled plow’s shovel against the grind stone with more pressure than necessary. The display of sparks was solid and impressive. Erik had seen money spent on fireworks for less of a show, but this was work and not a show.
“Don’t grind that too hard or you won’t have anything left.”
“Erik, sorry I’m being so loud. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Erik suspected that just the opposite was true. He wanted to point out that sharp plow shovels wouldn’t made any difference in the lifeless soil anyway, but he refrained. Instead, he said, “I’m the one that should be saying I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Uncle Henry asked.
“For getting mad at you about my mom and calling you a liar. It’s my mom’s fault, not yours. You and Aunt Mary have always tried to protect me, and I should have thanked you rather than storming out of the house.”
“Apology accepted, if you accept mine for not telling you earlier. You were right. You’re an adult and I should have told you years ago. Sometimes we might try to protect you too much. Where did you go after you left us?” There was true curiosity in Henry’s voice. There was much he didn’t know about Erik. They lived on the same farm for decades, but they still didn’t know each other’s lives.
“I went to the mountains, Chief Mountain. I thought a lot. I don’t know a lot about Christ yet, but I do know He cares about me, and I’ve got a lot of work to do to get my life straight. I guess I also came to the realization that He would help me if I allowed Him to.”
“Sounds to me you know a whole lot. If you know what you said, there’s not much else you need.” And with that, nothing else was to be said between the two men.
Instead they turned to the one bond they shared, work. Erik filled the big diesel storage tank in the back of the pickup and pumped the grease guns full. He put two of the plow shovels Henry had just sharpened for spares in the bed of the pickup and made sure the crescent wrench was in the truck.
“Erik, you know you don’t have to go to work today. Why don’t you catch up on some rest, but I wouldn’t go too clo
se to the house,” he added in caution, ”Mary isn’t going to let you get off without a hundred questions. She care’s about you and for a woman, I guess that means she’ll worry herself sick until she knows everything. Mary doesn’t want to pry, well maybe she does, but she can’t help herself. She wants to, we want to make sure that you get to know how great a God you serve.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot I need to get straight in my own head. I was trying to put into words everything that has happened, but I don’t even know how to explain it.
“As far as taking the day off; I’m fine. If I start getting tired, I’ll come back. I promised to get the field done by this weekend, and I want to honor my word.”
“Erik, take your time with the field and don’t worry about us. If I know you, you’ll talk when you get things get sorted out. But, if things get confusing, don’t hesitate to come to us. We’re here to help, not to run your life.” Henry broke into a wide smile and laughed. “We know you’re going to do want you want anyway. You always have.”
Erik grinned, but didn’t laugh. Again enough had been said. ”I’ll never get those fields done if I hang around here all day.” The grease gun he threw bounced hard off the box of the pickup, producing a scowl from Uncle Henry.
It wasn’t long before Erik was behind the wheel of the giant diesel watching the plow’s shovel digging deep and breaking the soil. He twisted sideways in the seat that did not turn and found his familiar spot. In this spot, he could watch the plow and at the same time see what lay ahead. In the midst of his hatred of the land, it gave him purpose. His task was to keep the plow tracking flush to the previous row. It was routine. It was easy, and he glanced to the rest of the farm. The only sign of life was the shadow of the tractor that churned round after round making no obvious difference except to raise more dust to choke the air. The sun was Erik’s only companion and that was the way he wanted it that day.
In normal years Erik plowed the land in hope for a bumper crop for that year and the next. This year the crops didn’t need plowing, but only rain. The crops had long ago dried brown to match the land. Erik churned the soil anyway because that was what he was sent to do. Almost in defiance to the sun he methodically traced smaller and smaller circles around the field. Erik moved the tractor like a soldier on guard pacing before a destroyed village, not knowing why he was there but doggedly continuing his assigned task.
He had followed the same path and the same routine for the past eleven years. Little had changed for those years, until last weekend. It seemed like more had changed in the past week than in the past eleven years combined. That day he was satisfied to merely plow and let the sound of the tractor drown out his thoughts.
God, I wish I could get a crash course in how you work and what this all means. It seemed so simple when I was talking to John that first day at the Glacier.
When I was talking to John, I had a mom. I know she wasn’t much of a parent, and I can’t remember ever talking with her, but she was a parent. In my mind I still had someone I could call Mom. I felt like I belonged to someone. Now I’m an orphan. An orphan that doesn’t belong to anyone.
And Laura meant there was a chance to be with someone. Now, I don’t have a clue what to think of Laura. I dreamt of her so often in the bunkhouse that it’s strange that she is someone real now. If my meeting her at the Point was part of Your plan it would be nice to know that for sure. Maybe it was just an accident, but I’ll need a lot of time in the bunkhouse to sort this out. I hope You don’t mind listening.
Instinctively, or by God’s nudge, Erik didn’t want to tell anyone about Laura. It was too complicated for him to even know what to say. He had never been around women, other than Aunt Mary, let alone try to figure them out. Erik didn’t know if he was attracted to her or to his old dreams. He didn’t know anything about her, especially after that last outburst. At the same time he couldn’t quit thinking about her.
What are the chances that Laura would be a Christian? Then just when I had wondered if I ever could be close to someone she was the only other person at the place I stopped. That’s pretty strange. Gotta wonder if it is God.
On the other hand, he didn’t understand her last outburst. “It wasn’t God’s fault, it was mine. It wasn’t just a nice feeling, it was real, but I walked away. It’s my life, it’s my mistake, and I don’t want to talk about it.” It sounds like someone that’s got more problems than me. It was fine to imagine Laura in the bunkhouse, but Erik didn’t know if he wanted to be that close to someone that fast. What if I messed up something that God wanted to be in m life?”
Erik knew he would have to leave the bunkhouse at some point, but not now, not until he could make more sense out of it. He would eat in the house and try to not let Mary and Henry sense anything was going on. That wouldn’t be easy. His moods were obvious and Aunt Mary was too perceptive, but he would try. He wouldn’t even go to church this Sunday. His aunt and uncle would worry, John would expect him there, and who knows, Laura might even be there. But that was just another reason to miss. He wasn’t ready to face Laura again.
He wanted nothing to do with this land, but for now this land was his refuge. No one would interrupt his patterned ruts. He pulled the plow another notch deeper into the ground and the tractor’s smoke turned black with the new strain of work. The plow turned little else than dust in fields that had not felt a drenching rain in three years. The sun shriveled the crops around him and the grasshoppers took more from the land that was already without life. In the midst of all this Erik was comforted by the solitude and the sense of His presence.
Chapter Fifteen
Laura had planned to arrive early for her interview, but not this early. Her timing was off because the landlord had been cleaning the carpets at the new apartment complex. She hadn’t been able to sign the new rental agreement nor unload her pickup, and of greater concern, she wasn’t able to clean herself up before the interview. She did the best possible at a service station bathroom, but she had hoped for a shower and an iron for her cotton dress.
When she pulled into the WinRight Grocery Store she was far too early. Her pickup didn’t have air-conditioning so the heat would quickly destroy the curls she had just made at a Texaco gas station. The male station attendant had knocked on the door twice urging her to hurry.
“C’mon, lady. I saw you take your make-up in there. Read the sign. This is a private restroom for customers only and not some type of homeless shelter. I didn’t pump any gas for you. There’s a paying customer out here waiting, and that’s more important than you trying to make yourself pretty.”
The sweat caused her newly pressed cotton dress to cling to her side. She said a quick prayer to God for success. Neither success nor talking to God had happened much lately.
Soon her hair wasn’t the only problem. The clinging cotton revealed more than she wanted and a circle of sweat started to form around her armpits. Before long she would look like one of the farmers who came into the Mint after work.
She had no choice but to go in much too early for the interview or be completely drenched and wind blown.
“Excuse me. I’m here for an interview. I didn’t get an application yet. Do you know where I can get one?” Laura had chosen the one checker who didn’t look busy at the time. She didn’t want to bother the manager.
“Sure, I got one under my cash drawer. Have you talked with Ken yet?”
“I guess that was his name. He never did introduce himself and he didn’t have a name tag. I’m suppose to meet with him at 1:30 so I’m way too early” Laura had a clear view of the wall clock that said 12:30 so she expected him to be at lunch.
“Sounds like him, forgetting his name tag. He’s really a nice guy, but a scattered brain. He’ll probably even forget he made the appointment. Just to let you know, don’t let him try to say we don’t need any help. We’re really short of checkers no matter what he says There’s no way I’m going to work another Sunday, so he better hire you.”
“
Thanks for letting me know. Where can I wait until he’s free?”
“He will be free when you are. I’ll make sure of that. He’s probably in the back eating his bologna sandwich with two Oreo cookies. The guy has the same lunch every day like his mom made it. How and why he can stand the same thing, I don’t know. Here is a pen. Why don’t you go over to the next aisle? As soon as you’re done with the form, I’ll make sure Ken will be free. By the way, my name is Barbara, good luck.”
A customer had come to Barbara’s aisle and she had begun ringing the items as she talked. “When you’re ready, just go in the back through those double doors. You’ll see him.”
Laura filled out the application and then made her way through the swinging double doors that Barbara had indicated. The man she had spoke with yesterday was there.
“Excuse me. My name is Laura Randolph. I spoke with you yesterday, and you asked me to come back today.”
Ken was unloading a box of lettuce and stacking them in neat rows. His quick dexterity showed a man who had performed the same job many times. “Sure, Laura, I’m glad you made it back. I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to talk yesterday. Monday is our shipment day, and it takes all mine and everyone’s attention to get it unloaded. I’ve been working people too much overtime as it is. Overtime pay is nice, but so is being home with the family.”
Laura finally let herself breath. He seemed so nice.
“Got the application done?”
“It’s all done except for my address and phone number. I just got a place at the Highline Apartments, but I forgot the address. I’ll get it as soon as we’re done and finish the form.”
“That’s no problem. I’m more concerned with the phone number. What’s the deal there?”
I called from the apartment manager’s office and the phone company said they could have one installed by Thursday afternoon, Friday morning at the latest. But I’ll have to be there when it’s being installed.”