It had taken almost a week to plant the seeds, one at a time, by hand. Everyone had pitched in to help, switching off every couple of hours. It was back breaking work, and it just wouldn’t make sense for one or two people to endure all the pain and misery alone.
They’d started planting on the first row on the west side of the field. Then worked their way to the east. Since the plants on the west side were a week older than the ones on the east side, they’d start their harvest in the same manner.
Just as they’d had no seed planter to begin the project, they also had no harvester to finish it. This part of the process would also be done by hand. And the harvest was a lot easier than the planting. Mainly because it didn’t involve crawling around on one’s hands and knees.
Tom Haskins started by walking down the outside row, cutting off each ear of corn at its base, then tossing it into the back of the Gator. Zachary drove the Gator at Tom’s pace as Tom walked along. And Zach had a blast, because he loved driving the Gator.
Tom hadn’t been around for the planting, but he complimented Scott and the others on their handiwork. The rows were straight, and the plants were evenly spaced. It was unusual, he’d said, for a crop so planted to be spaced out so well.
Tom was in charge of the harvest, because he’d been a farmer and rancher for most of his life. He knew what he was doing, and the others were just faking it. So when he offered to head up the project, he got no arguments.
The rows were a little over a hundred yards long. By the time they made it halfway to the other end, the back of the machine was heaped to capacity.
Tom hopped into the passenger seat.
“Okay, boy. Let’s see if you can drive this thing over to the feed barn without killing anybody.”
Once at the feed barn they lowered the tailgate and unclipped the front of the tilt bed. It had no hydraulic lift, so Tom got on one side and Scott got on the other. They manhandled it to dump almost three hundred pounds of corn ears onto the barn floor.
“Okay, you guys ready to husk and debone these suckers?”
Everyone else was in the barn, ready to help, except for Joyce, who was taking her turn at the security desk.
Scott had purchased two manual corn shuckers at a farm auction when they were building the compound a year before. He didn’t have a clue how to use them, but figured he’d learn on the fly. One thing he liked about them was that they were manual in the literal sense of the word, in that they required no electrical power.
At Tom’s direction, they placed the machines facing opposite directions, one on each side of the barn. Between them was about twenty feet of open floor space.
“Okay, the first thing you ladies need to figure out is deciding how many ears you want to keep whole. Set that many aside and pull the husks off of them, then put them in plastic bags in your chest freezer. That’s what you’ll cook every time you want to make corn on the cob with supper. Once you put those aside, we’re going to husk and shuck the rest of the ears. Then we’ll dry out the corn and store it in sacks. You guys ready?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, we need two people on the shucking machines. Who wants to volunteer?”
Jordan said, “I’ll do one.”
Linda didn’t say anything, but went and stood by the other one.
Tom grabbed an ear and held it up so Sara and Scott could see what he was doing.
“Okay, you husk each ear just like you’re peeling a banana. Just grab the husk and pull it all the way down to the bottom, and keep pulling until it comes off. Throw the husks in a pile. It’ll make good cattle feed. Throw the naked ear in a pile next to the machine. You’ll have to be pretty quick to stay ahead of the deboners, because they’ll move pretty fast. Let’s peel a few and get a little pile started.
On her second ear, Sara suddenly squealed.
“Of, I forgot to tell you about the corn worms. They’re pretty common. And they don’t eat much. So just knock em on the floor and we’ll sweep ‘em up and feed ‘em to the pigs.”
Sara shook the cob in her hand until a pale white worm about an inch long fell to the floor.
“Ewww, gross,” she said as she kicked it to one side as though it were toxic.
After they’d thrown about a dozen ears into a pile next to the shucking machine, Tom picked up an ear and placed it inside a three inch diameter hole on top of the machine.
“Always put the pointy side down. Otherwise it’ll get gummed up in there, and we’ll have to take the cover off to fish it back out again. Once the cob is in the machine, turn the big wheel one full revolution, counter clockwise. Don’t do it clockwise, it’ll shoot the ear back out of the top and then you’ll have to go chase it. Remember, one time around, counterclockwise.”
He demonstrated, and as if by magic, the corn cob came out of a slot in the front of the machine and shot through the air, landing about five feet away. All the kernels of corn had been stripped off. They came out the side of the machine, and landed in a little pile on the open floor between the machines.
Scott said, “Well I’ll be damned. I didn’t expect that to happen.”
Zachary was more succinct. He smiled and said, “Cool!”
“Okay,” Tom went on. You’ll have to stop periodically, to clear out your piles. Once the pile of cobs starts to get in the way, just shove them outside. We’ll let ‘em dry in the sun and then we’ll put ‘em in the feed barn. The pigs love ‘em. They’re like ice cream to pigs. So we’ll feed ‘em to the pigs a few at a time, and that’ll help stretch your pig feed a bit. Which reminds me of something, Scott. You’ve got too many pigs and cows. Talk to me later about that, okay?
“Anyway, your corn pile will get pretty high, too. When it does, just stop and use one of those garden rakes. Rake it all over to the middle of the floor.”
Linda turned up her nose. “Shouldn’t we mop the floor first, or at least sweep it to get the dust off of it?”
Tom couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You’ve never lived on a farm, have you, dear?”
“Well, no.”
“There’s nothing clean or dainty about feeding pigs or helping a cow deliver her backwards calf. Nothing neat about butchering a bull or making sausage with leftover parts and pieces and such. And there’s nothing dainty about processing corn. It’s gonna be laying here on the floor for days while we dry it out. It’s gonna get stepped on, visited by flies and spiders, and maybe even a caterpillar or two. But don’t worry. Once it’s dried and packed away it’ll be safe to eat. It’ll just have to be rinsed real good before you put it in a pot to boil.”
Then Tom did something no one expected. He walked over to Linda and kissed her.
“Blessed be the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
She turned red, and said, “Thank you. I guess.”
“Anyway, just rake the corn kernels into a big pile here in the center of the room. By the time we’re done, it’ll be huge. It’ll take up most of the floor space.”
He looked at Sara and said, “And it’ll be just as high as your pretty little head, little lady.”
With that, he turned on his heels and headed toward the door, gathering Zachary along the way.
“Come on, little man. Let’s go back and get some more cobs so we can stay ahead of these folks.”
Over his shoulder he shouted, “Y’all can compete with each other to see whose pile is biggest. That’ll make it more fun. And be sure you switch off between the huskers and the shuckers. That’ll keep it from getting too boring. And don’t goof off, now, or we’ll bury you all under a big pile of ears.”
He chuckled and looked at Zach.
He lowered his voice and said in a conspiratorial tone, “By the end of the day every one of these city slickers will be dragging like a twenty year old dog and sayin’ their arms are gonna fall off. You watch.”
They drove back to the corn field and harvested the second row of corn in the same manner as the first, with one key exception.
“Okay, little man, you’re gonna think I’ve gone pure crazy. But you can’t drive alongside the corn field like you did last time, because I won’t be able to throw the cob in your Gator like I did last time. The first row of corn that we already plucked would be in the way. Any idea how we’re gonna deal with that little problem?”
Zachary shook his head no.
“I want you to aim your vehicle for dead center on that row of corn we already plucked clean. Just drive right over that first plant. Pretend it’s your brother and you’re mad at him. Just flatten that son of a gun. Then run over the next one and the one after that and the one after that, all the way down the row. And I’ll be walking beside you, plucking the next row and tossing the cobs in the back of your green machine.”
“But won’t that kill the plants?”
“We’re done with ‘em, son. Once we make ‘em naked they’re nothing but cattle feed. We’re gonna kill ‘em anyway when we cut ‘em down and feed ‘em to the cows.”
“I never knew farming was gonna be this much fun.”
Tom smiled. If he only knew…
-23-
By the end of the third day, every living soul in the compound was tired, stiff and sore. Even when Joyce joined the group, and Tom and Zachary took their turns at the shucking machines, it was more backbreaking grunt work than anyone could imagine. Other than Tom. He knew exactly what they were in for.
Tom was happy to see that the yield was greater than expected. So much so that they had to take a good size portion of the corn and rake it onto a large plastic tarp, and set it out in the sun.
“Sure wish we had a weatherman to tell us it wasn’t going to rain,” Scott observed.
Tom sniffed the air.
“Nope. No chance of moisture for at least two days. We’re okay.”
Scott didn’t ask any questions. He wasn’t wise to many of Tom’s ways, not coming from a farming and ranching background himself. But he was learning to trust this man immensely. So he took it on faith that there would be no rain for the next two days.
“Keep the dogs away from it. They’ll go romping through it and think it’s something to play in. They’ll spread it all over the yard. Especially those puppies.”
Both piles of corn were raked into more or less flat sheets, a few inches thick, so that as much of it as possible was exposed to the open air. Every two hours someone in bare socks walked upon it and raked it over again, to rotate the wet kernels on the bottom up to the top.
“When you’re done, look at the bottom of your socks,” Tom advised. “That’s how you’ll tell your progress. The first few turns, the bottom of your socks will be soaked. When you finish a turn and your socks are still dry, that’s a sign we’re getting close.”
Close to the end of the fifth day, Tom and Zachary were back at the barn, and dumping the Gator onto a high pile of cobs. Scott was there to help tilt the bed.
Tom looked at Zachary and said, “You were a great helper, little man, and you did a super job. I want you to be proud of yourself. This will be our last load.”
“But Tom, there’s two more rows of corn we haven’t plucked yet.”
“Those don’t get plucked, son. We’ll let those dry on the stalk. Once the husks turn brown and they sag toward the earth, we’ll know they’re dry. And then we can just pull them off and toss them into a pile, where they’ll sit for a couple of months. Those will be our seeds for the next harvest.”
Scott, eager to learn, asked, “Why not process it with the rest of the batch?”
“Well, two reasons, actually. The machines cut off the pointy tip of the kernels. They won’t grow plants next time unless they’re intact. In order to remove them intact, they have to dry on the cob. And the second reason is, you can’t run dry cobs through the machines. It’ll dull the blades faster than you’d believe. The cobs still have to be just a little bit soft, have just a little bit of moisture in them, to keep from dulling the blades.
“And besides, this way we’ll finish a day or too sooner. And that’s important because everybody is exhausted and needs a break. There’s plenty of time to pull the dry cobs off and process them for seed later on.”
“How will we process them when we get around to it?”
Tom chuckled.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Uh, oh. Is it that bad?”
“We’re gonna do it by hand. When the cob is dry you can just twist it and it’ll loosen the kernels. Then you just kind of rub them off the cob into a pile. It doesn’t sound so bad, but it takes strong arms and a tight grip to loosen those suckers. The first few will be easy. But after you go through four, five hundred cobs, your forearms will be on fire and feel like they’re ready to fall off. And when you’re eating supper that night it’ll be hard to hold a fork, because your arms will be tremblin’ so bad.
“And you’ll curse the day you ever decided to plant corn to begin with.”
“Hell, I’m already regretting it.”
Tom laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Hey, this is easy. Just wait until next year when you plant wheat. Now that’s a real pain in the ass.
“And that reminds me, Scott. Did you know the type of wheat you bought is ready to harvest in seventy days?”
“No, I didn’t. To be honest, I just bought that kind because the internet site had a map, and said that kind would grow best in this area. Why, is that important?”
“Well, you’ve been saying you wished there was something you could do to help your friend John down there in San Antonio. I know they’re short on food down there. I just wanted to point out that if you’ve a mind to, you’ve got time to grow a wheat crop and get it harvested before cold weather sets in. You could save part of it to replace the seeds you use, and we could haul the rest down to San Antonio to help John and his people get through the winter.”
“Seriously? Let’s do it.”
“Hold off, now. I have to tell you, we have to finish this job first. A few more days of this and we’re all gonna be so stiff and sore we’re gonna be crying. And when we’re done, we’re all gonna want to lay in bed and rest for a week.
“But if we’re gonna plant a wheat crop, we won’t have that luxury. We’ll need to get those seeds in the ground soon. And the process is gonna be the same as when you planted the corn by hand. Days of crawling in the dirt on your hands and knees, poking holes in the ground and dropping seeds inside. It’s back breaking work, as you well know.”
The others were close enough to hear the conversation.
Joyce spoke up and said, “I’m in.”
Linda said, “Me too, if it’ll help those poor people survive the winter.”
Sara said, “Count us in. Me and Jordan.”
Scott chuckled. He looked at Linda and Joyce. They were smiling too.
Jordan wasn’t even there. He was pulling his shift on the security desk. But Sara was confident enough in their relationship that she felt it okay to volunteer him for a very painful task he didn’t even know about.
Tom whispered to Scott, “Is Jordan henpecked already?”
Once all the corn was shucked, it took another five days to get it all dried out. Tom showed Scott and the boys how to dismantle the shucking machines and clean out all the corn ooze that had collected on the cutting blades and beneath the machine. Then they sharpened the blades, put the machines back together, wrapped them with heavy plastic and shoved them to the corner of the barn.
Scott couldn’t help himself. He gave them a proper sendoff that they all felt, but that only he found the words for. “Good riddance, you sons of bitches. I’m glad we don’t have to look at you again for three more years.”
-24-
Once the dry corn was shoveled into burlap bags and stacked in the feed barn, attention focused on the wheat project.
Tom graced them with two full days off while he cut off the first ten rows of corn. He cut each stalk off at its base and threw them into huge piles n
ext to the field.
Later, he’d explained, they’d shred it and harvest it into hay bales, at the same time they’d mow and bale the high grass surrounding the field. He said that between the grass and the corn stalks, they’d get a couple of hundred bales of hay to help the horses and cattle get through the winter.
After the stalks were removed from the first ten rows, he plowed the stumps under, then put the rake attachment on the back of the tractor and raked it several times from one end to the other, to get rid of as much corn debris as possible.
“You want most of it out of the way, but not necessarily all of it. You just want it out of the way so it doesn’t get in your way while you’re planting. And the little bits and pieces that are left behind aren’t any problem. They’ll just rot and help fertilize the wheat.”
Linda considered Tom her man now, and she was a little concerned about him working so hard while the others rested.
He said, “Shucks. This is the way I was raised. It was my life from the time I could walk. And my daddy’s life, and his daddy before him. A farmer’s work is never done, so you get used to working from dusk to dawn. I’m not saying anything bad against you folk, I’m really not. But a city slicker is raised in a different way. You folks aren’t used to this kind of work. You will be, after you’ve done it for a few years. But not right yet. You need to rest, so you can get your second wind before you start the next crop.
“And shoot, I don’t fault any of you for needing a break. You all just went through hell getting the corn in and processed. And I’m damn proud of you.
“As for all agreeing to grow a crop of wheat that you’ll never eat, just so you can help give people you never met a chance to live through another winter? Well, I’m even more proud of you for that.”
No one said anything for several seconds. Scott noticed that Joyce had a tear in her eye.
Finally, Jordan broke the silence.
AFTER THE DUST SETTLED (Countdown to Armageddon Book 2) Page 9