Stories About Corn

by Ri, Xesin

  “You never met my brother? Never saw him in person? Never talked to him on the phone or any other communication?”

  “No, sir.”

  “And you never met Mrs. Dean? Never saw her in person?”

  “I never met anyone named Loretta Dean.”

  “And you want my help getting you information about who killed my brother on your farm?” said James rolling his window down again.

  His car was so hot.

  “That’s right. People are trying to destroy my company. I believe they used your brother in a stupid game of ‘land grab.’ They killed your brother in cold blood. Killed Deputy Rightendale. Killed my workers and more than likely killed Al Duncan and Mrs. Dean. And they might have ties to federal and state government. You tell me if that sounds fair. You tell me if that sounds like a good business culture. You tell me if that sounds like the law-and-order police are out there to provide. I’m swimming in shit out here and it stinks, Officer. It all stinks to high heaven.”

  “You have resources, Mr. Synad. You don’t need me.”

  “But if I do? I have your permission to show you evidence? I think I could trust you, Officer Reingold. Can I trust you?”

  “Cowboy is something children play, Mr. Synad,” said James getting thirsty again thanks to the heat. “I’ll give it to my boss or find someone better who can take a look at what you’ve got. That’s it. I’m not here to go and do anything else, but evidence of criminal activities is something you can report to me. One thing—at any time, if I think you’re involved in anything—I won’t hesitate to help your enemies see you fall. You’d better be cleaner than a glass of distilled water.”

  “Understood. I think, once you get to know me, you’ll see I’m exactly who you think I am.”

  “Yeah, you’d better hope that isn’t true.”

  “Good day, Officer.”

  “Goodbye,” said James listening for a moment to see if there was anything else, a last moment confession by Mr. Synad or clicks on the line or odd static in the air. There was nothing.

  James made sure the call was ended. He turned off his phone and got out of his car.

  He was thirsty now and walked across the street to the coffee shop he’d been staring at while he discussed life and death with Mr. Synad.

  The boom, boom, boom of an approaching blue Subaru got James’s attention.

  The kid pulled up, blasting an old sounding song. It was something about being sick and tired of songs about Los Angles and California and New York.

  “Hey,” said James.

  The kid turned with an annoyed look and then realized who it was.

  “What is that music?” asked James.

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Do you like it?” asked James as he opened the door and let the kid go in first.

  “Not bad, it’s not the Pixies; but it is good.”

  “The Pixies? Don’t know them. Are they new?”

  “No,” said the kid smirking. “An old man like you should know that better than me.”

  The kid went off to the bathroom. James went to the counter and ordered the largest coffee they had. He got a Danish too.

  The kid behind the counter was young too, about twenty-three guessed James. He was getting older. Next year, he’d be thirty-eight, and this kid would be a mere twenty-four.

  “Here’s your coffee, sir.”

  “Thanks.”

  James took his coffee from the twenty-three year old, walked back into the June humidity after the heavy rain, walked past the blue Subaru and got back into his Ford Focus.

  He started up the engine. He buckled up and took one more look at the picture on the seat next to him, the one of Ray Synad and Loretta Dean together in a mall. In this picture, she looked at him in a doting sort of way, like she met a man she really liked, and Mr. Synad seemed to be looking at her too.

  James grabbed a picture of his dead brother’s corpse. Shot, burned, and blown-up: his brother was still recognizable, dead as he was.

  If it were true, thought James, that someone had killed his brother in cold blood, over a land dispute, even the biggest ever, not even his brother’s own land, a simple murder-to-frame situation like Mr. Synad was suggesting—it seemed like there was no way to think that answer. To really go down that path. The most likely culprit was the last man standing. The only man not to die. Someone who’d dragged the names and reputations of the dead through the mud to cover his own cursed tracks. A smiling, content man who’d been a policeman and won elections to have the right to use the title of “Sheriff.”

  James shifted out of park and drove off finding his foot full of lead and his head full of fire. His heart beat. Soon he’d be out of town; and if he couldn’t keep his emotions in check there, the tall corn and the sweat dripping down his face would distort that truth too.

  He needed a lot more information, better safe than sorry.

  The last week of July

  Detasseling

  “IT’S the Swath! It’s the Swath,” yelled Jessica Stree.

  “I love the Swath!” cried Ellena, loudly, into Jessica’s face.

  Jessica laughed so hard she couldn’t even open up her eyes as she threw her head back. Ellena and Hilary laughed too. All three girls were left smiling and laughing for four whole wobbly steps up the Went family’s drive.

  “Really, I think the Swath is just okay,” tried Hilary.

  “Only okay?” cried Jessica.

  “Yeah, I mean, seriously, it’s just a swath. What’s so great about a swath of grassy land?” said Hilary.

  “Mirth! I say, ‘mirthbringer,’ you! You do not bring your mirth here, Miss Hilary! And never in regards to the Swath. Talking mirthfully of the Swath is quite the bad girl thing to do,” answered Jessica.

  “Mirthy me,” swooned Hilary, “Ellena, I do say, you must catch me and walk me to the Swath, for I am too hurt to walk.”

  Hilary leaned and fell over towards Ellena who had not picked up on her cue to catch her falling friend.

  Hilary fell straight to the gravel drive leading up to the farm house where their summer job began each day at eight-fifteen sharp.

  Both Jessica and Ellena gasped and quickly went to their friend’s side.

  “Are you okay?” asked both of Hilary’s friends in near unison.

  Hilary looked at her arm to see that it wasn’t bleeding or anything like that. Then she sat up and said to her two friends, “That wouldn’t have been so painful had it happened on the sweet, soft Swath.”

  Ellena and Jessica laughed again, loving Hilary’s resilient nature. Up she jumped; dusted off her jeans; and they were off, walking up to the house, together again. All three girls were whistling a different tune, all at the same time, all trying to see if the other two could guess her tune first. There was some success at the game, but mostly, there was a lot of whistling and a lot of laughing.

  At the house, Ellena, Hilary and Jessica came to the edge of the group and stood waiting for assignments.

  “What did you bring for lunch, Ellena?” asked Jessica.

  “I brought corn on the cob, corn chips, and a mashed corn patty between two of the driest slices of corn bread in the world, how ‘bout you?”

  “I have exactly the same. Except I brought corn soda I made by mixing Diet Pepsi and the drippings from when I mashed my corn patty and grilled it on my brand new George Forman corn griller. And it is AAAhhh—so refreshing.”

  A few laughs filtered through to the girls from their many friends and acquaintances waiting for their assignments too.

  “Tasty,” said the boy they simply called Mr. Fish. They wouldn’t tell him why they called him that. It was his eyes, fishy.”

  “Thanks, I thought you’d like that, Mr. Fish,” said Jessica. “And what are you having today?” Jessica asked Hilary.

  “I’ve made cornmeal based pancakes with corn syrup.”

  Smiling faces turned to hear the rest.

  “But, I’ve got you beat on the drin
k. Yesterday, I took my corn water drippings from my mashed corn patty and combined them with Orange Crush for the perfect corn soda. Then I saw this at the store and realized I’d gotten it all wrong.”

  Hilary produced an actual soda company’s corn flavored soda to a wave of laughter.

  “Got this last night. Wish you had some, huh?”

  “No,” laughed Jessica.

  “Let’s give it a try.” Hilary opened up the bottled corn soda; she took a big drink, and sloshed it about for a few chuckles from her friends and co-workers. “Actually, that’s not bad,” she announced. “Tastes better than you would think. I’m a little disappointed really.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought it would be awful, and it’s not.”

  Hilary took another drink to the grossed out amazement of her friends.

  “I think I could like this. But look at the sugars!”

  Jessica looked. “That’s more than a Coke.”

  Ellena said, “Hey look, there’s more carbonated water and coloring than corn flavoring or corn syrup! An outrage!”

  “It’s the bosses,” said Mr. Fish.

  The three girls turned and quieted, their smiles remaining. They looked to the bosses who were coming out of the house to make selections and hand out assignments for the day.

  “Where’s Rus?” asked Jessica quietly.

  “I don’t see him,” answered Hilary.

  “Are any of the Wents working in the fields today?”

  “Just Paul and Hazel. Tina’s too good for detasseling, too good for the Swath too.”

  “I don’t like her,” said Ellena, matter-of-factly.

  “Today,” said Mr. Went, “I want to thank you. You’ve been great, those of you returning year-after-year to our farm to help out—but, um.” Mr. Went stopped like that was what he was going to say and all too. He took a moment, breathing in the air like he was holding in big tears.

  “What’s wrong with him?” whispered Ellena to her friends.

  Jessica and Hilary shook their heads and tried to listen closer to Mr. Went’s heavy words.

  “Sometimes things happen too fast,” Mr. Went said and stopped. He was overcome with emotion. Tears filled his eyes.

  Mrs. Went went to her husband and then turned to the assembled group. “We thank you. This is probably the last year this will be the Went farm,” she said.

  “What happened?” yelled someone.

  “I don’t know,” said Jo. “Mr. Went and I just don’t know. Government rules, laws and the banks—it was a tidal wave.”

  She breathed out and continued, “We are keeping the faith that things will turn around. We have plenty of funds to pay for your work today, so don’t go thinking we’re going to forget you. Your work will be paid. I think many of you know where you were working yesterday, so go on out there and get going; and we’ll see you at break time or settle up time. There’s water set out on the tables on the grass between the h. h. corn and the regular corn if you need it. It is awfully hot. If you don’t have a hat, we’ve always got the old ones left behind from past seasons.

  “And thank you all very much. Thank you and have a great day out there. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Mr. Went grabbed onto his wife as she turned to go back into the house. Jo held him, hiding him, almost holding him up as the pair walked back to the house.

  Ellena looked at her two friends. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “There’s old Rus,” said Jessica pointing. “Even he looks so sad in his little pen.”

  Paul and Hazel ran in after their parents.

  “Did someone die?” asked Jen, one of the other workers.

  Hilary, Jessica and Ellena just shook their heads. They didn’t know.

  “Hey,” yelled a young man, one of the overseers. “We need to get to work. I’m sure you’ll hear more when the Wents are feeling a little more like talking. For now, we’ve got some work to do so get on out there and get going.

  Ellena, Jessica and Hilary walked away from the Went home out towards the Swath. They had stopped near the Swath the day before when Mr. Went had come out and cut the day short. He’d acted strange then too, thought Ellena.

  “Where is Markus and Takashi? I thought they were going to be here too,” said Jessica.

  “I don’t know,” said Ellena shaking her head and looking back at old Rus.

  Hilary scratched her elbow from when she fell on the driveway.

  “This is so weird,” said Jessica.

  Hilary took a ponytail holder out of her pocket and started putting her hair up real tight under her hat. The bruise was already visible as she held her hair and made up the ponytail. Hilary said, “I think Markus said something about going over the border to Ill-noise. He’s probably visiting Elizabeth.”

  “Every day?” asked Ellena.

  “Markus is crazy for her. Why not?” said Hilary patting her hair to make sure it was neat and tight.

  “Where’s Takashi?”

  “He only comes here because Markus is here. No Mr. Markus Mist, no Mr. Takashi-san,” answered Hilary.

  “That’s probably true,” said Ellena.

  Jessica took small fast steps walking with her friends. She tried not to, but a few tears fell from her eyes.

  “Jessica, don’t cry,” said Ellena.

  “They’re such nice people. Who would hurt the Wents?”

  The three girls stopped.

  “Look, Jessica,” said Hilary pointing ahead, “It’s the Swath!”

  “I don’t care. I want to go back.”

  “I don’t think we should,” said Ellena. “This is a family thing. And they said they would tell us later.”

  “No, I’m going back.” Jessica turned and began walking back to the Went house.

  Ellena quickly followed her.

  Hilary stood looking at the green, green Swath. “We won’t get paid!” she yelled to Jessica.

  “I don’t care!” was the response back.

  Hilary took one good look down the way, looking for one good reason to go on without her friends.

  “Shoot,” she said and turned and hurried after Jessica and Ellena.

  The walk was tense for Ellena and Hilary. Both of them had the feeling that they were about to get in trouble for interrupting something they ought to know better than to interrupt. Jessica, on the other hand, was all tears and single-minded emotion. She marched up to the house without fear and knocked on the door, wiping away a few tears, and tried the doorbell a moment later.

  As Mrs. Went opened the door, it occurred to Hilary that she didn’t really know the Wents and wasn’t sure Jessica knew them any better. “Awkward” was the word that popped into her mind.

  “Mrs. Went,” said Jessica loudly. “What is happening?” Jessica reached out and held onto a surprised Mrs. Went like she were her own mother. Jo looked at the crying girl and then Hilary and Ellena.

  “She is very upset,” tried Ellena. “She thinks whatever is happening is just awful, and we do too.”

  “What is happening?” asked Jessica.

  Ellena and Hilary loved Jessica, but the embarrassment was hard to wear.

  “Come here, sit down,” said Jo. “You girls, too.”

  Jessica let go of Mrs. Went and sat down. Hilary and Ellena sat next to her on a bench just inside the front door of the Went home.

  “Let me get you three something to drink.” Mrs. Went was gone only a moment when she came back with a little rolling cooler. “We don’t need this today. Mr. Went isn’t feeling so well today—um, just sort of—“

  “Thanks,” said Jessica opening up a Sprite.

  “Okay then, what is wrong?” asked Jo.

  Hilary and Ellena looked at Jessica.

  “You are such nice people. I don’t—“ Jessica got upset again but took a breath and was okay. “I don’t understand why people would hurt such nice people.”

  “No one is trying to hurt us,” said Jo needing a small moment to let the w
ords set in her own mind. “We just got swept up in some strange witch hunt. Mr. Went and I have been pouring over the information in the press, letters from lawmakers apologizing for the situation and then the citations, the fines, the fees, and finally, the letter we got today telling us that the EPA had demanded that our farm, like many others, were to be closed, indefinitely.”

  “What does ‘indefinitely’ mean?” asked Jessica.

  “It means that there is no exact time in which we will be le—allowed to grow either food crops or even h. h. corn or other non-food crops. Right now, our fields are totally useless, and we can even be fined for selling anything we grow.”

  “Wait,” said Ellena. “So why are we here detasseling?”

  “Martin wanted to give everyone one more day. Give a little bonus to all those that have worked for us. Eat a little food with our friends and neighbors. We might be able to sell what’s left of the h. h. corn crop this year, definitely not next year.”

  “Why don’t you fight this?” asked Hilary.

  “We are. We want to. We’re trying. But two different groups are already trying to get our farm, and the bank has changed one of our loans—I shouldn’t say that. They broke our loan agreement in order to make it nearly impossible to fight, how that’s legal….”

  “Aren’t there laws against this?” asked Hilary. “How can someone just lose their property and everything like this—so fast?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never even heard of something like this.”

  Hilary took a Sprite out of the cooler. She popped the top and drank a big gulp.

  Ellena stood with her mouth agape.

  “Have you guys got a good lawyer?” asked Hilary.

  “I guess,” said Mrs. Went looking down at her clean floorboards. “This morning we got a letter from the IRS informing us of an audit. Martin’s got perfect records, but it’s a tidal wave.”

  Paul and Hazel came down the stairs. Both knew and went to school with Hilary, Ellena and Jessica. Their concern had brought them to their mother and not to friends.

  Jo grabbed her twins and took them into the kitchen, away from the eyes of others.