I place everything on the double-sized bed and head into the only bathroom to wash up.
Pops is putting logs into the wood-burning fireplace. He still wears flannel shirts and Wrangler jeans. The house is simple and warm. A lot has changed in my life in ten years, but not much has changed on the ole homestead. The bathoom is just as I remember. The same white, iron claw-foot bathtub and cast iron pedestal sink from my childhood is still in place. I guess these things are made to last forever.
I hear a car pull up and I know Levi and Mia are here. The long and winding driveway is not a welcome sight for people to travel on. I quickly wash my hands and rush out to greet my brother and sister-in-law. Levi and I were close as children, but I think he harbored ill feelings towards me when I left home.
Just as they did me, Momma and Pops greet Mia and Levi outside on the porch. I open the door and watch as they exit their truck. Levi married his high school girlfriend right out of school. I suspected pregnancy, as did half of the town, but time proved us all wrong. Fortunately, no one brought diapers to Mia’s bridal shower; if they had, I would have heard. Neither went to college, both work hard, and they were able to buy a home in Roseville, not far from here. Mia works as a waitress at Peaches Place and Levi works for Shelly and Sands doing construction. His experience as a former Navy Seabee and a construction worker helps him in his personal life.
He sees me and smiles. Levi is my height but not my size. I walk off the porch into the chilly night air and hug Mia first.
“Abel, you look incredible,” she says, sincerely.
“Thank you and you do, too. I’ve missed you.” I release my hold on my sister-in-law. Mia is small and petite with long blond hair. She’s wearing jeans, boots, and a brown Carhartt coat.
“We missed you, too.” She backs away and smiles.
I turn and look my brother in the eyes. He smiles and hugs me. His embrace is stronger than I thought it would be.
“I missed you, Bro,” he says, laughing as he pats me on the back.
“I missed you, too. You look great, Levi.” I back away and look at him. His hair is dark brown like mine, but it’s longer and curlier. His eyes are blue where mine are brown. We still look a lot alike, although he’s thinner than me. He’s wearing long johns under his flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots.
“Just getting off work?” I ask in reference to his clothing.
“No,” he says in confusion. “We’re helping Pops cut the firewood after dinner. Farmer’s Almanac is predictin’ a cold winter this year.”
“Colder than a well digger’s butt in January,” Momma pipes in.
Momma and Pops take turns hugging Mia and Levi.
“Let’s eat while it’s still hot,” Pops says.
Levi says grace before we eat. We sit around the solid wood choppers block table and have dinner. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s the best meal I’ve had in a long time. I swear I recognize some of the serving dishes from my childhood.
The table is full of food. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cheesy grits, creamed corn, homemade biscuits, and milk. While most Yankees don’t eat grits, we do. I developed a love for them in my early years. Momma met Pops when he was in the Air Force while stationed in Savannah, Georgia. Momma’s name is Nell, but he calls her “Belle.” It’s a nickname, short for his Southern Belle. Sometimes he’ll call her Nelly; it all depends on his mood, and her mood, too. Often, Momma calls Pops “Bud.” So do other people.
Dinner is filled with light conversation and friendly smiles. Mia talks about her customers at work, Levi tells an anecdote about his days in the Seabees, and Pops talks about the homemade blackberry pie he helped Momma make.
Mia talks about something that happened last year just before Christmas. Someone called Peaches Place and said, “Oops! Wrong number! I have you guys on speed dial.” The person was a regular customer who came in about 15 minutes later with a big container of homemade muffins for the people who worked there. She said, ‘You have been serving me good food all year and I thought I would return the favor.’”
Levi learned construction when he was a Navy Seabee — soldiers have battalions; the Seabees are members of construction battalions. He says that the Seabees are not greatly impressed by rank. What impresses them is competence. One Seabee met an Admiral and told him, “You’ve got an important job, sir, don’t mess it up.”
After hearing Pops talk about helping with the homemade blackberry pie, Momma laughs and corrects him. “Bud, you ate the berries as I was preparin’ them for the pie.”
“Belle, I only ate the bad ones—” he begins to say with a chuckle.
“—and some good ones,” she teases.
“Okay, and some mighty tasty good ones.”
I’m relieved when the conversation doesn’t get directed at me. Since my retirement from professional boxing, I have no plans. I know I need to do something, I just don’t know what. Momma probably wants a daughter-in-law and some grandbabies, but I’m not sure that’s what I want. I know my time here on the farm is limited. I don’t see this lifestyle for me long term. I’ll stay through Christmas, help out as much as I can, and hopefully, talk my folks into accepting some money from me.
After dinner, Momma and Mia clean up and the guys go outside to cut and haul some firewood from the barn to the front porch. It’s definitely work, and I soon realize I’ll need some flannel shirts, a work coat, work gloves, and work boots.
Before Mia and Levi leave, they make plans to meet up on Saturday to winterize the farm for the bitter winter. I had forgotten that people do that. I remember from when I was a child Pops covering all of the windows in plastic. Do people still do that? Use plastic for insulation? Time will tell.
I throw on a jacket and walk Mia and Levi out to their truck. It’s dark and I notice that the light over the barn isn’t on. I’ll see if it’s burnt out in the morning. If memory serves, the light was set on an automatic timer. When that light came on, it meant to get your tail home.
“How long ya staying for, Abel?” Mia asks as she pulls her coat tighter around her.
“I’ll be here through Christmas.”
She snaps her head up and looks at me. “You aren’t stayin’ for New Year’s?”
“Not really planning on it.”
“Your momma know that?”
“Not sure, it hasn’t come up.”
“Abel, you think about that long and hard before you go tellin’ her and breakin’ her heart.” Mia leans in and hugs me. “I’ll be in the truck while you two talk.”
I watch as she gets into the truck and starts it up. “She all right?”
Levi looks at me, and then to Mia. “She’s okay. She doesn’t want Momma to be disappointed when you leave again.”
“Levi, look.” I shift my feet in the dirt driveway and say, “I left the farm, but I didn’t leave my family.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No. As soon as I found my way in the world, I sent money. A lot of money.”
“Did you ever think it wasn’t about the money? Bro, some people in these parts don’t care much about money. As long as Momma and Pops have food on the table, gas in the car, and a roof over their head, that’s all they care about.”
“I understand that, but the money would have lightened their load. Made life easier for them.”
“You think that’s what Pops and Momma want? A lighter load?”
“Yes, isn’t that what we all want? It’s nice to live on the farm, but wouldn’t it be nicer to live on a new and improved farm?”
Levi shoves his hands into his pocket. “You have it all wrong and you’ve been gone far too long.” He looks in the pickup at Mia before looking back at me. “I gotta go, but I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“You’ll be here before you go to work?”
He looks confused and says, “There’s a storm threatenin’ the area tonight. I come by every mornin’ and feed the animals and gather eggs. Who did you think did that, the farmha
nds?”
I look in the direction of the chicken coop.
“Really, Abel? Farmhands? We need to talk. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“It’s good seeing you,” I say.
“You, too. Take Mia’s advice and consider stayin’ through the New Year. Momma’s gonna be right sad when you leave here again.”
“She knows I’m not staying.”
“Abel, she may know that, but in her heart, she doesn’t wanna believe it.”
I shower and go to bed. Looking at my phone, I see I still don’t have any messages. After I put my things away, I set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. I no longer fight, but I still work out every morning. I don’t want to be the ex-fighter who gains 40 pounds the year after retiring, although if I’m not careful I may end up being like the many people who become obese by gaining one pound a year for 40 years.
The high winds wake me from a restless sleep. The wooden shutters continue to beat against the house, and I wonder if my folks can hear it. Lying awake in bed, I wonder why my parents never spent the money I sent them. I understand this is their family farm, but why not use the money for home improvements or even a farmhand? Money isn’t everything, but it can be helpful. It’s a tool; people can use it to make their lives better.
In the morning, I work on the farm. I dress in jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of boots. My boots aren’t the kind of boots you work on a farm in; wearing them for farmwork is kind of like a woman wearing an original Dior to hoe weeds in a garden. I slowly open the creaky wooden bedroom door, and walk across the cold hardwood floor. I smell coffee and bacon before I notice a chill in the house and add more logs to the hot embers in the fireplace.
Momma’s standing at the stove. “You’re up early?” I ask, looking from her to the clock. I take a seat on one of the four bar stools. She’s still in her nightgown and a housecoat.
“Nah, this isn’t early. Your brother’s comin’ over, and I wanna make sure he’s got something hot in his belly before he leaves here. He comes over every day, and I make him breakfast every day.” She pours a cup of coffee and asks, “Did you sleep well?”
I gratefully take the coffee she hands me. “I did, thank you.”
She looks up at me and smiles. “Abel Lee, you didn’t hear that shutter bangin’ against the house all night?”
I smile. “I did sleep well before the wind knocked the shutter lose.” Truth is, I didn’t sleep well at all.
“It was so loud I thought it was gonna send the pigs into a panic.” She turns back around and flips the bacon over in the cast iron skillet.
Pops walks into the kitchen and smiles. “Mornin’, Son.” He’s wearing a brown flannel shirt, Wrangler jeans, and work boots.
“Morning, Pops.” I watch as he walks over and kisses Momma before he fills a large mug with hot coffee. The timer goes off on the oven, and I watch as she removes a casserole and biscuits.
“Mornin’, Belle, breakfast smells delicious.” Pops smiles and takes a seat next to me. “We have a busy day today.” He takes a drink of his coffee. “The wind knocked that shutter lose again and the horse fence is fallin’ apart. If you’ll help me, I’d like to get those two things taken care of before noon.”
“Sounds good. I need to run into town and get some work clothes sometime today.”
“Good, we’ll stop in and have lunch with Mia. She’s workin’ today, isn’t she, Belle?”
“She sure is. She’s probably there now. I’ll also need to get some groceries while we’re in town.”
I see headlights before I hear the sound of tires in the rocky driveway. If I were at home, I would be concerned about who’s pulling up this time of day, but here on the farm, it can be only one person, Levi.
“I should help him.” I stand and begin to walk towards the door.
“Nah, don’t bother.” Momma looks out the window and using her apron, she wipes her hands. “He’ll get the eggs before he comes in and eats. It’ll only take ‘im a few minutes.”
The way he made it sound, he really had a morning full of chores to do here, before heading to his real job. Momma was right, after a few short minutes he walks into the house, carrying a metal basket filled with farm-fresh brown eggs.
“Didn’t get many eggs today,” he says, placing the basket on the counter. “Maybe the storm frightened the chickens.”
“Maybe, or maybe they’re just gettin’ old,” Pops says.
Momma hands Levi a cup and coffee and takes the basket of eggs from the counter. “Thank you, these are just fine.”
I look at the basket of eggs and it’s full. I wonder how many chickens there are and how many eggs he thought he should have gotten. I don’t ask.
After a hearty breakfast and two cups of coffee, I go outside with Levi to feed the animals. “You’re gonna ruin them good boots of yours.” I follow Levi’s eyes to my cowboy boots.
“They’re just boots,” I lie. These are actually very expensive boots and I had them specially made. I can’t admit that out loud.
“They don’t look like ‘just boots,’ but suit yourself.”
I am surprised and amazed at all the animals that are still on the farm. Cows, pigs, chickens, roosters, horses, and even a few mules. It takes a good hour between the two of us to feed all of the animals.
“What’s up with the mules?” I finally ask.
“Pops went to a livestock auction in Hartville and got ’em at a ‘good price,’” he says, using air quotes.
“It’s not very practical, is it?” I ask.
“Not hardly, but when he came home, he named the farm and made a sign and hung it over the barn doors. Welcome to ‘The Kennedy Mule Hill Farm.’”
We both laugh and Pops asks, “What’s so funny?”
Levi looks at me and I say, “The mules. I’m a little surprised to see you have mules on the farm.”
“Yep, got ’em for next to nothin’ at an auction. It must have been my lucky day,” he says proudly, petting a mule like it’s his favorite pet.
I smile, although I am still confused as to why he would want mules. Has he not considered the amount of money he spends on feed for them weekly, monthly, and especially yearly? I look from Pops to Levi. Levi subtly shakes his head at me. He knows what I’m thinking.
“Well, you can’t beat that,” I finally say.
Once the animals are fed, Levi leaves for work. Pops and I fix the shutter before we repair the fence. The fence was in worse shape than he thought. Once it’s repaired, we head to the house for lunch. Pops wanted to have lunch with Mia at Peaches, but it’s too late. The repairs took longer than expected.
After we eat, Pops and I shower and we all head into town to get me some appropriate work clothes. As Levi said I would, I ruined my expensive boots from working in them this morning. Since I need to return the rental truck today, I follow Momma and Pops into South Zanesville. Rose Farm is too small to have the stores I need to buy work clothes; actually, it is too small to have any stores. The country roads are winding and dangerous. I worry about my parents driving on them although they don’t seem concerned. The light dusting of snow that was here yesterday is just a memory now.
I return the truck first, then we shop for some work clothes for me. I stock up on work boots, Wrangler jeans, several flannel shirts, and long john underwear. I’m also able to buy an insulated coat and work gloves at the same store.
As I pay for my purchase, Momma tells the man he should be ashamed of himself for chargin’ an arm and a leg for the same things that Wal-Mart sells. Pops and I quickly usher Momma out of the store.
“Nelly, you’re a feisty one today.”
“I reckon his Momma don’t know what he’s chargin’ in his store. Abel, you coulda gone to Wal-Mart or even K-Mart for the same stuff and it’s a heck of a lot cheaper,” she insists.
I understand the man sells better quality than the big-box department stores, and I also realize he needs to upcharge his items to make a profit. I didn’t think he was outrageously
priced. The boots I ruined cost more than everything I bought today.
“It’s all right, Momma. He has a family he needs to feed.”
We go to the Campbell’s Food Town on S.R. 22, and the people there greet my parents by name. I am introduced to the owner and I think I remember him from my younger years. Momma compares prices, sale items, and coupons on everything she buys. It takes a lot longer to shop than I expected, and I have to remind myself I don’t have any place else that I need to be.
Pops pushes the cart and reads a magazine he took from the shelf as we came in. I keep waiting for someone to say something to him, but they don’t. This is something straight out of The Andy Griffith Show. I must learn to relax. Momma shops for her Thanksgiving Day meal. I’m a little surprised that the cart is almost full when she finally gets to the register. I also notice that she bought two or more of everything.
I’m disappointed and hurt when she refuses to let me pay. I almost have to threaten the cashier to make him use my credit card instead of taking Momma’s cash. I calmly and as nicely as I can explain to Momma that while I am here, she will not be paying for anything herself. “It’s the least I can do. I’m staying with you, so please let me buy the groceries,” I beg. She reluctantly agrees. Momma would expect me to pay for my girlfriend’s groceries, if I had a girlfriend, yet she doesn’t want me to pay for hers. Does she feel like this is a handout? Does she still look at me as her little boy she needs to take care of? The answer to the last question, of course, is yes.
As we are in line at the grocery store, I overhear the cashier tell a woman that she is short on money. Momma is busy searching through her coupons as Pops holds her coupon organizer. They don’t notice. The manager comes out from the office and offers the woman store credit. She leaves with her purchase and her small child. I remember this same store used to help Momma out years ago. Pops got paid on Fridays and they would always let Momma shop on Thursdays. They would hold the post-dated check until the next day. It’s good to know they still help out in this small community.
Campbell’s Food Town is a privately owned and operated business, with a hometown feel. The owners are older than my parents and still live like they did in the days when you trusted most people and helped out the community. I miss some things from rural living, and this is one of them. People in the city aren’t as trusting.
Rose Farm Trilogy Boxset Page 2