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Since it's only two weeks until Christmas, I am going to give my readers a little gift today- instead of the usual single installment of #FreeReadMonday, today I am posting three chapters. Jennie makes two major, life changing decisions that take her further from her past and move her toward the future and the man she doesn't yet know she wants there.
6.
The sun was bright. Outside heat rose off
the ground in shimmery waves. Even
inside the house, everything she touched felt moist with the incessant
humidity, despite the best efforts of the old air conditioning units. The cotton of her pink tee shirt was damp
against her back and her already wild curls were springing out in all
directions. Now, as she stood in front
of the bathroom mirror she gathered the mass that some called hair and knotted
it high on her head.
Of all the days to oversleep. It was half past seven already and she had to
get the eggs and milk the cow before she could even think about heading into
town to talk to her guidance counselor.
Momma wasn’t too happy with her decision but she knew it was the right
thing to do. It’s what Daddy would do
and she was Daddy’s girl. A loud crash
sounded from downstairs. She ran to the
top of the steps.
“You OK down there Momma?”
Momma’s voice was faint. “I’m fine, Jennie. Just tripped on a chair in the kitchen. Breakfast is almost ready- you must be half
starved since you missed dinner last night.”
“Be down in a minute.” She was pretty hungry.
As if on cue, her stomach jumped into a
symphony of groans and growls reminding her how long it had been since her last
meal. Working in the barn had drained
her physically. Seeing Michael had
sucked her dry emotionally. The long
night’s sleep was well overdue but so unlike her. She hadn’t really slept through the night
since before Daddy died.
Momma was standing in front of the stove
when Jennie entered the kitchen. The
smell of fresh cooked bacon welcomed her.
It had been days since anything had actually been cooked in the kitchen. Mostly they just picked at sandwiches and
leftovers brought to them by friends and neighbors. There was something about a death that made
people want to cook. They had so many
frozen casseroles; it would be weeks before they would have to prepare a dinner
if they didn’t want to.
It was amazing, the outpouring of love and
support to her and Momma, although no amount of meals or gift cards could make
up for what they had lost.
“That smells good, Momma. What has you up so early today?”
Momma sniffed the air in a dramatic show,
wafting the fragrance of frying bacon from the big cast iron skillet on the old
gas stove to her nose. “That does smell
good doesn’t it? I hope you are hungry.”
“I’m absolutely starved. But, what are you doing up so early? I could have poured a bowl of cereal.”
In the days since Daddy passed, Momma
hadn’t gotten out of bed before ten or eleven in the morning, only to settle in
for a nap barely three hours later.
“I couldn’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see your father
walking through the door smiling at me.
I run to him and he turns around and walks away, disappearing before I
can get to him. It’s an endless cycle
and no matter how long I stay in bed, it won’t end. It’s like purgatory here on Earth.” She set the tongs she used to flip the bacon
down on the counter and turned to face Jennie with red rimmed eyes.
“Oh, Momma, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I just thought you were tired.”
Momma didn’t need to know she actually
thought the opposite. Bed was a good
place to hide from reality. In a dark
room, curtains closed and windows locked to the outside world, it was easy to
pretend that bad things didn’t exist.
“It’s OK sweet pea, I don’t want you
worrying about me. It’s just gonna take
me some time to get through this.”
It pained her to see how sad her momma
looked. If only Daddy hadn’t gone to
work that morning.
Or if he had just let Momma call Doc
Hansen.
What if she hadn’t run into him on the road
that morning? Would she have seen her
Daddy one more time before he died? If
Trisha and Michael hadn’t broken her heart, she might have been with Michael,
doing something she’d probably regret later rather than spending last precious
moments with her father as he gleefully drove his old, broke down pickup over
the ruts and ramps of the road.
For a flicker of a second she thought maybe
she owed Michael a big thank you for having sex with her best friend. It kept her from making the huge mistake of
losing her virginity to a lying, cheating bastard. But more importantly, it prevented her from
missing the last moments of her father’s life.
God’s will was mighty powerful when he wanted it to be. His methods could be a bit harsh it seemed
but He sure got results.
Momma turned back to the stove and began
flipping the long strips of bacon again.
Grease spattered and spit out of the skillet, leaving dark spots on the
wood floor in front of the wide glass oven door. Jennie remembered when Daddy first brought
that antique stove home. An old,
abandoned farmhouse on the other side of town was being demolished. Daddy pulled it out of the pile of rubble,
loaded it into the old truck and brought it home. He spent weeks refurbishing it out in the
barn and presented it to Momma as an anniversary gift.
“Can I help you with breakfast, Momma?”
“No, Jennie girl, I got it. You’ve been working mighty hard around here
lately, I figure the least I can do is put a hot plate in front of you this
morning. What you got planned for
today?”
“The usual chores; milk the cow, gather
the eggs, feed the horses and pigs.
Heading into town later this morning.
Shouldn’t be gone too long, the garden needs weeding and the last of the
berries need picking. Gonna be time to
do some canning soon, too.”
“What about school, Jennie?”
“Come on, Momma, we talked about this
last night. That’s why I’m going to talk
to Ms. Burch. I have enough credits to
graduate. That means I get my diploma,
get a job and keep things running around here.”
“And give up college?”
“Momma!
I told you, I will take a class or two at the community college next
year. Right now, I gotta take care of
things. Daddy would turn in his grave if
I let you lose this place and everything he worked for.”
“I told you Jennie. I can hire someone to take care of
things. I don’t want you giving up your
life for me.” Momma’s voice was as firm
as she had ever heard it but that didn’t hide the slightest bit of a quake at
the end of each of her words. It just
tightened Jennie’s resolve to do what needed doing. She had never thought of Momma as frail
before but on this day she seemed as small as a newborn in the oversized
flowered nightgown and worn slippers. It
didn’t help that the deep black circles under her tired eyes gave her a sickly
appearance that Jennie had only ever seen before when her granny was sick with
cancer. Momma placed a plate of steaming
eggs and bacon on the table in front of her that she attacked with a gusto she
didn’t know she had.
“I’m not going to discuss it with you
anymore, Momma.” She spoke between
bites, resisting the urge to moan too.
“This is not the time to be making any decisions about money or
anything. Besides, the life insurance
won’t last forever and the mortgage needs to be paid.”
“Jennie…”
“It’s OK, Momma. I want to do this. It’s the right thing for right now. I can always change things later, OK?”
Momma nodded, offered her a sad smile in
agreement.
“I’ll be back before dinner, Momma, but
don’t wait on me, there’s plenty of meals in the refrigerator to pick on. Breakfast was good, thank you.”
Rising from the table, she carried the
plate to the sink and rinsed it quickly before dropping it into the
dishwasher. The dishwasher was the one
real modern convenience that Momma had insisted on when they bought the
rambling old farmhouse.
Her quick departure did what it was
intended to do-Momma didn’t say anything else to her as she left the house and
headed to the barn. There was no way of
knowing by the dry earth beneath her feet how much it had rained the day of the
funeral. Dust shimmied in the morning
sunlight, coating her damp legs in a fine orange sheen by the time she reached
the barn. Heat shimmered in waves
levitating a few inches above the ground.
Bessie brayed quietly when she entered the
barn.
“I’m coming Old Girl. I bet you need a milking this morning, don’t
you?” She spoke quietly but the animal
heard her- if not her words, her soft tone.
She brayed again in response and kicked up a hoof.
The air inside the barn was hazy and stale
with damp heat and dust. Jennie threw
open the large doors and let the sunshine pour in. The haze quickly burned away as she grabbed
the old milking bucket off the rusty nail where it had hung as long as she
could remember.
Now
that she had done the chores a couple of times herself, the process was getting
easier. It took less than an hour to
milk the cow and gather the hen’s eggs.
After slopping the pigs, spreading the chicken feed and laying out hay
for the cows and horses, she headed to the driveway. Pausing for just a moment to consider
cleaning up a little, she decided against it.
The air was as thick as mud; she would just be covered in sweat again by
the time she reached the school. Besides
if things went the way she wanted, this would be her last visit to the small
county high school anyway. Who really
cared how she looked- or smelled- while she was there?
The dust rolled away from the car in waves
as she made her way down the center of the rutted dirt road for the first time
since the day Daddy died. Her mind
wandered back to that day, it felt like a million years ago now, when Trisha
told her she had slept with Michael.
Jennie thought her heart could never hurt as much as it had in that
moment. And then Daddy had collapsed and
her whole world had fallen apart.
Damn it!
She missed him! How would she and
Momma ever get along without Daddy there to keep them safe? To hold all the pieces together?
The little coupe Momma usually drove
bottomed out against the hard dirt sending a shockwave through her spine. Shaking her head as if to will away the
headache it caused, she steered the car around the next big rut, vowing to pay
more attention to the road and less to her emotions and her wandering thoughts.
A mile before the end of the road sat
Michael’s family’s farm. Much bigger
than the tiny Marshall property, it sprawled over two hundred and seventy five
acres with fields dedicated to corn and wheat and barley and hops. Grazing pastures housed cattle, horses and
even a few goats. The McKee farm was a
working farm, it made money and supported the family. The Marshall farm provided food and shelter
but there was no profit. Daddy worked at
the factory to make ends meet. What was
she thinking? All the chores under the
sun wouldn’t help pay the mortgage or the taxes or the insurance.
Insurance.
There was
Daddy’s life insurance. Maybe Momma was
right and that would keep them going for a while? She wasn’t sure how much there was but she
was fairly certain there wasn’t enough to last for too long.
Jennie was more certain than ever that
leaving school was the right decision.
There was no way the farm would survive if
she didn’t. Of course, there was little
chance it would survive if she did drop out.
She would have to find a job.
There was no way around it. Between a job and the farm her time would be
completely consumed. Definitely no time
for classes.
The road ended at the paved highway. Turning left, her front tires spinning just a
bit as they fought for traction on the new surface. The smooth blacktop made driving so much
simpler, it was easy for her mind to wander again. It wasn’t long before she was back in the
barn on the McKee property, listening to Trisha gush about how happy she and
Michael were and how sorry she was for hurting Jennie but sometimes things just
happened and there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. And then she was walking down the dirt road
toward home, Daddy’s truck whining as it pulled up beside her. Why hadn’t she noticed how pale he was? Demanded that he let Doc Hansen come by,
check on him. Maybe they would have made
it to the hospital in time. Maybe Daddy
would still be here and she wouldn’t be heading into town to do the one thing
she swore to never do.
Her grades had always been her ticket
out. Now they were going to be the
shackle that forced her to stay in this tiny little town forever.
The only intersection in town was quiet;
the usual midmorning bustle minimized by the heavy heat. As she passed the factory where Daddy had
spent two thirds of all his days, tears filled her eyes. The massive flag pole in the center of the
property held the America’s colors at half-staff and black ribbon adorned the
trunk of each of the imposing oak trees that lined the drive to the employee
parking lot. The whole town was taking
the death of John Marshal to heart and soul.
Their sadness was oddly comforting. The pain deep inside her heart eased just the
slightest bit knowing that so many others shared it with her.
It was only a minute or two before she
reached the high school. The low brick building had become as familiar to her
as her own home over the past three years.
It was the only high school in the county, shared by nearly a dozen
small farm towns just like hers. A bus
trip could take the other side of an hour for some students.
The sprawling structure seemed almost out
of place in its size and progressive design.
Everything else in town looked the same as it had for over a hundred
years. The only real changes being
indoor plumbing and electricity; and there were still a large number of hold
outs on both those amenities.
It took only a minute or two to find a
parking space. Most of the main lot was
empty. The school ran on a skeleton
staff during the summer break. Jennie
hoped Ms. Burch was in, she hadn’t thought to call ahead and make an appointment
with the young guidance counselor who was closer in age to being one of
Jennie’s classmates than an adult she needed to consult with for permission to
get on with her life.
The secretary smiled at her when she
entered the office, the undeniable sadness in her eyes. Even she was mourning the loss of John
Marshall. Jennie never realized how far
reaching her father’s influence was on the townspeople where he had lived his
whole life.
“Good morning Mrs. Calhoun, I was wondering
if Ms. Burch was in this morning?”
“Good mornin’ Jennie Marshall. How are you and your momma doing? I was so sorry to hear about your father.”
“Thank you Mrs. Calhoun, Momma and I are
doin’ just fine. Is Ms. Burch here
today?”
“Why yes, yes she is. Let me call into her office and see if she is
available. You just sit tight right over
there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Jennie busied herself reading postings for
summer jobs on a bulletin board while Mrs. Calhoun made the necessary calls to
the guidance office. It wasn’t long
before Ms. Burch appeared in the doorway between the office and the hall, arms
already outstretched for a hug. Jennie
was a bit on the tall side. Everything
about Ms. Burch was perky and petite; she had to almost reach up to embrace
Jennie and pat her on the back.
Stepping back, Ms. Burch held her at arms’
length studying her for a long moment.
“Jennie, I am so sorry about
your daddy! Is there anything I can do
for you?”
“Thank you, Ms. Burch. There is one thing you might be able to help
me with. Can we talk?”
“Oh, of course! Of course!
Let’s go to my office.” Ms. Burch
led the way down the hall to the next door.
Holding it open, she ushered Jennie into the office suite and led her to
her own tiny corner office barely large enough to hold a desk, a couple of
chairs and a bookshelf. Stacks of file
folders and piles of papers covered every available surface. Ms. Burch’s organizational skills were a bit-
well- unique.
“Here, sit.” Ms. Burch grabbed a pile of file folders off
of the chair facing her desk and climbed her way through the disarray to her
chair behind the cluttered surface, dropping the files on top of another
haphazard stack of papers. She flopped
down in the oversized chair and pulled it forward until her elbows rested on
the desk top. Folding her hands under
her chin, she eyed Jennie with her sharp blue eyes through thin, wire framed
glasses.
“OK, Jennie Marshall, what can I do for
you?”
“I want to graduate early. I have enough credits to be done now.”
Ms. Burch leaned back in her chair and
tapped her two forefingers together.
“Now why would you want to go and do that, Jennie? It’s much too late to apply to college,
there’s no reason for you to drop out.”
“I’m not droppn’ out. I’m graduatin’ early.”
“But, why?
You have a plan. We made it
together in the spring. This is your
senior year.”
“Plans change. Things change.”
“Plans change. Things change.”
They looked at each other over the desk. Ms. Burch studied Jennie intently, trying, it
seemed, to assess just how serious Jennie was about the request she had just
made. Jennie tried to will back the
tears that were ever threatening while silently begging her counselor to make
this easy on her. Everything else had
already been so hard lately.
Ms. Burch’s expression softened as she
reached a hand across the desk to touch Jennie on the arm. “Have you thought about what you would be
giving up?”
That was all she had been thinking about but it didn’t matter. She had to do what had to be done.
Ms. Burch continued. “Prom.
Senior trip. Walking the stage
and receiving your diploma. You’ve
worked hard Jennie, you deserve those things.
Those experiences are irreplaceable.”
Hard core, repressed emotions propelled her
to her feet. The anger, the frustration,
the sadness welled up like Mount Vesuvius within her and she slammed her hand
down against Ms. Burch’s desk just to release some of the energy inside her.
“My father
is irreplaceable. The home and the farm
he worked so hard to build are irreplaceable. A diploma is a piece of paper. The cows and the horses and the hay bales
have no interest in whether or not I have one.
Walking across a stage won’t change the fact that I have completed the
requirements to graduate high school.
Will you let me graduate now or do I have to drop out? Because I am NOT coming back here next week
when classes start.”
Ms. Burch just stared at her, eyes wide
with shock. Jennie was always so even
tempered. Her outburst had been uncalled
for and she instantly felt guilty for taking out all of her jumbled emotions on
the young guidance counselor. Dropping
back into the chair, she pushed the stray curls that had worked their way out
of the knot on her head away from eyes.
Her skin felt clammy even to her own touch. She had to get things taken care of as
quickly as possible and get out of here.
“I…I’m sorry Ms. Burch. It’s … It’s been … hard …the past few
days. I shouldn’t have lost my temper
like that. But I meant what I said. I am not coming back to school, even if it
means I have to drop out.”
“I wish… I wish I had the right words to
say to make you feel better Jennie. Both
my parents are alive and well and I have no idea what sort of pain a loss like
yours creates. Everyone has a breaking
point and if I had to guess, you have reached yours. Have you even cried once since your daddy
died?”
“Of course I have!”
“No, I mean really cried. Kicked something. Hit something. Let the anger out so it doesn’t eat you alive
from the inside out.”
“Ms. Burch, I have way too many things to
do at home to sit here and discuss this with you. Momma, she needs me right now…”
A light brightened Ms. Burch’s blue eyes
as she latched on to a new angle in her plea to keep Jennie in school.
“How does your mother feel about your
decision?”
“I’m old enough to decide for myself. State says you only gotta be sixteen to drop
out. I am seventeen…almost eighteen in a
few weeks.”
“Ahhh…”
Ms. Burch sat back in her chair and formed a steeple with her fingers
under her chin. “So, she isn’t happy
about it. Come on, Jennie. It’s only one more year. Surely you and your mother can get some help
for a while? Just long enough for you to
get your diploma? Maybe go to prom.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Burch, but I
don’t give a damn about prom. Not
anymore. It’s not like I would have
anyone to go with anyway.”
“What do you mean? I thought you and Michael McKee…?”
“Not any more. But that doesn’t matter. Are you going to let me out of here or not?”
Jennie was trying very hard to maintain
her composure but Ms. Burch’s attempts at trying to change her mind were
beginning to grate on her nerves. The
other woman studied her intently for a moment.
“This is really what you want, Jennie?”
“Yes.
I don’t have any other choice.”
“All right, then. I will file the paperwork. I just need you to sign this paper.”
Ms. Burch handed her a yellow piece of
paper. There was a different kind of
sadness in her eyes now. Jennie signed
her name with the black pen her counselor offered her.
“I am not happy about this Jennie
Marshall. You’re a smart girl, you could
have earned a scholarship, gone to college.”
“Like I said, Ms. Burch, things
change. Things have changed. I have other
things to worry about now.”
“Well, I suppose that is true. Once this paperwork is approved, I will have
your diploma printed and mailed to you.”
There was no mistaking the disappointment
in the guidance counselor’s voice. Maybe
she got a bonus for every kid that she counseled who graduated. Or worse, did her pay get docked for every
kid who dropped out? A punishment for
failure to counsel properly? That would
make her feel bad…not bad enough to say another year but bad nonetheless.
“Thank you, Ms. Burch. I appreciate your help.” She stuck out her hand to shake the woman’s
hand but the teary eyed counselor grabbed her and hugged her hard.
“Everything is going to work out just
fine, Jennie Marshall. You are a smart
girl, stronger than you think.”
She stepped away from Jennie. There were tears in her eyes as she held the
door. Jennie stepped into the hall and
made her way to the main entrance of the school. She never once looked back as she drove away
from the sprawling compound where she had spent the majority of the past three
years. That part of her life was
done.
7.
It was done. Her entire senior year of high school passed
over in a twenty minute meeting with Ms. Burch.
Now she could focus on what was important. Keeping the farm running and finding a job
had to be her main focus. It was enough
to occupy her brain, enough to keep her from thinking about Michael and Trisha
and all the lost dreams she had just discarded with a single signature on a
yellow piece of paper.
The black ribbons around the trees at the
paper factory waved slightly in the hot breeze.
A man she recognized as Joe Kelty, an old friend of her father’s stood
in front of the lighted marquis placing big black letters into the slots
inside.
HELP WANTED
APPLY INSIDE
Apparently they were done mourning her
father. In the space of an hour they had
moved on. His position stood open and
needed to be filled. Life would go on as
though John Marshall had never spent some twenty years working the giant mills
and presses.
Help
wanted.
Help wanted.
It didn’t say experienced help wanted.
She needed a job, there was a job
opening.
Slamming on the brakes, she whipped an
illegal u-turn right there in the middle of Main Street and pulled into the
side parking lot by the huge main building passing all the trees with the black
ribbons blowing gently in the light breeze.
What were the chances the company would
hire John Marshall’s daughter to fill his empty position?
A quick glance down reminded her she was
still wearing the same clothes she had done her morning chores in and she
wished she had taken that moment to clean up before going to the school. What she wore was not exactly a stellar
outfit for applying for a job. But then,
how dressy could factory work be? Daddy
always wore jeans and a tee shirt with his old worn work boots.
Ice cold, machine cooled air slammed into
her as she opened the door into the main lobby of the building where human
resources was housed. It felt refreshing
against the wet heat she left behind.
Goose pimples formed on her arms in quick response to the temperature
change as the constant layer of perspiration on her skin chilled almost
immediately. She reached up and pushed
the stray curls that had escaped the knot on her head behind her ears in a
futile effort to smooth the crazy mess.
The paper factory was the biggest company
in their small town, at least half of the locals either worked there currently,
had been employed there at some point or would one day be a part of the factory
workforce. It was a family business for
many- two, three even four generations back.
Jenny would be a second generation employee. Not exactly the glamorous city lifestyle she
had once longed for but it would have to do for now.
“Good morning, Ma’am.” She addressed the woman behind the main
desk. “I would like to fill out an
application please.”
The woman eyeballed her up and down from
under thick layers of mascara and blue eye shadow. She tapped one long, red acrylic nail against
the formica countertop as she twirled a bleached blonde curl around a finger on
her other hand. Her gum popped and
snapped as she stared at Jennie.
“I don’t think we have any openings in the
offices, honey. Sorry.”
“I don’t want an office job. I’ll take whatever you have available. I’m not above gettin’ my hands dirty.”
The woman didn’t answer, just scowled a
little as she picked up the phone and tapped four numbers in with the
ridiculously long nail on her left forefinger.
“Hey Susie, I’m sending someone to
ya. Says she wants to apply for a
job. Nope, wants to be on the floor. OK, thanks Susie.”
Pulling out a lime green sticker with the
word VISITOR on it in large black letters, she handed it over to Jennie. “Stick this here to your top and then follow
that hall there on the left to where it ends.
Make a right and go three doors down.
Sign will say Human Resources.
Tell them you are there to see Susie.”
With a wave of her hand she dismissed Jennie and returned to whatever
game she had been entertaining on her computer.
Jennie did as she was told, following the
directions to the human resources office, all the while thinking about her
father walking the same halls. She missed
him so much it ached in her soul.
As she stood in front of the large glass
window embedded in the center of the steel door, Jennie inhaled deeply in an
effort to calm her nerves and control the emotional quake that had begun to
threaten her insides.
A much friendlier smile greeted her as she
pulled the heavy door open.
“I… umm… I need to see Susie. I …I want to …to apply for a job. Your sign says help wanted.”
“Did Ms. Macy tell you that there aren’t
any current openings in any of the offices?”
Ms. Macy had to be the overdone woman that
sat behind the front desk. Yeah, she
told her but Jennie didn’t believe her- or care. It wasn’t the office she was looking
for.
“I want to work on the factory floor. Like my father did.”
“Your father works here? Well, dear, who is he? I’ll call him up to the office and we can get
you moving on the process.”
“My father was John Marshall. He…”
“Oh, right.” The woman’s eyes warmed with compassion, “ I
am so sorry dear. You must be
Jennie. I knew your father for many
years, he was very proud of you.”
Jennie dropped her eyes to the floor,
waiting for the tears to recess back behind her lids before making eye contact
with the kindly woman again. “Thank you,
ma’am. Now, about a job?”
“What about school? We don’t do much in the way of part time
work, dear.”
“I’m looking for a full time job,
preferably the hours my daddy used to have.
I won’t be goin’ to school next week, just arranged it this
morning. I had enough credits to
graduate already. Don’t need to go back
for another year. It would be a waste of
my time.”
“Um… OK.
I see. Well, Jennie are you quite
sure your daddy would be wanting you to be working in a paper mill?”
“I
don’t see as how he would have much to say ‘bout it, now would he?”
Her tone was sharper than she intended and
guilt flushed her cheeks a deep crimson.
The other woman was taken aback but recovered quickly, probably chalking
her behavior up to the sudden loss of her father.
“All right then, dear, let me get you an
application packet to complete. Once you
are done, someone will be in touch about an interview.”
“Yes, Ma’am.
Thank you. It shouldn’t take me
too long to fill it out.”
Susie led her to a small table with a single
chair and placed a packet of papers down in front of her. It took twice as long as she thought it would
to get through the thick stack of pages.
The criminal history check was the funniest- whatever sort of criminal
history could she, Jennie Marshall, have living on a farm in the world’s
smallest town?
Just last week she was wishing Michael and Trisha dead…
Yeah, but she didn’t actually kill them…
When the final page was signed and dated, she rose from
her seat and carried the packet back to Susie.
“About how long until I hear from someone?”
“Well, now, I really couldn’t say for
sure, dear. These things take
time.” Susie hedged her answer, avoiding
eye contact.
“But you have at least one opening.” Of course she referred to her father’s
position and the other woman knew it.
“Yes,” she responded quietly, “there is at
least one. But, Jennie, your daddy
worked here twenty some years. You
aren’t qualified for his job.”
“Ma’am, I really need a job. I will work hard and I catch on quick. Daddy didn’t leave so much behind and I swore
to him I wouldn’t let my momma lose the farm.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it; it’s his legacy and all we have
left.”
A single tear fell from her left eye and
rolled slowly down her cheek. Damn it all, she swore she wouldn’t cry any more.
The other woman’s face softened instantly.
“Oh, my dear, I had no idea! I am so sorry. I will do everything I can to get your packet
to the top of the pile, OK?” Susie
patted her arm in a grandmotherly sort of way.
“Thank you kindly, Ma’am. I would sure appreciate that. Momma would too, I know. She just couldn’t bear to lose Daddy’s land.”
There was no mistaking the deep pity in Ms.
Susie’s expression as she patted Jennie on the arm once again and sent her on
her way.
8.
Two days later the phone rang.
The time passed quickly with all the things
that needed doing around the farm; Jennie barely noticed that Trisha and all her
friends and classmates would return to celebrate their senior year on the
following Tuesday. It was already the
Friday before Labor Day when the call came from the paper factory.
“Hello?”
Jennie answered in a breathless rush, wiping the garden soil from her
hands onto her cut-off jeans.
“May I speak to Jennie Marshall?” The voice on the other end of the line was
vaguely familiar.
“Speaking.
How can I help you?”
“This is Hilda Worth at Econoline
Papers. I am calling in reference to
your employment application. Are you
available to interview at nine on Tuesday morning?”
A job!
They were calling her about a job.
Ms. Susie in human resources had come through for her after all.
“I definitely can. Should I bring anything with me?”
“Just your resume and a copy of your birth
certificate. Oh, and your social security card.
You will be meeting with Jack Smithson and myself. Ask for Hilda Worth at the front desk.”
“I will. Thank you, Ms. Worth, for
calling. I am looking forward to meeting
with you.”
“I am too, young lady. I am very interested to meet the daughter of
John Marshall. If you are half the
person your father was he will have left quite a legacy behind.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of
her father’s name, followed by the inevitable moistening of her eyes but she
cleared her throat and answered with determination.
“I hope that I can live up to your
expectations, Ms. Worth.”
The older woman clucked into the phone
quietly. A sort of well, we will soon see, won’t we?
“We will see you on Tuesday morning at
nine sharp.” With a click the line went
dead. Jennie slowly replaced the handset
onto the receiver. They were one of the
last families on earth to still have a wall phone with that ear splitting
shrill ring of the eighties.
Her father was revered by more people than
she ever could have guessed. Could she
ever fill his shoes? Maybe it wasn’t
such a great idea trying to get into his former place of employment. With expectations so high, was she simply
setting herself up for disappointment?
No matter, she needed a job and they were
willing to consider hiring her. So what
if it was only because she was John Marshall’s daughter?
From somewhere in the house, she heard a
loud crash. Following the sound to the
front room where Momma sometimes sat to read in front of the large windows that
let in the natural light of the sun, she found her mother kneeling on the floor
in front of a pile of soil and broken pottery.
“Momma!
What happened?” Dropping to her
knees, she could see her mother was crying.
Large tears ran down her face and fell from the end of her chin into the
dark potting soil of her favorite tea roses.
“What have I done? Oh, Johnny!!
What have I done?”
“It’s OK Momma. I’ll get a broom and clean it up. It’s just
dirt. There’s more pots out in the
barn. I’ll fix it right up.”
“What am I gonna do, Jennie-girl? What am I gonna do without your father? He was my whole world! We were supposed to grow OLD together! Oh, how I wish I could be with him now…” Sobs wracked her momma’s thin shoulders. Her usually even tempered, soft spoken momma
let out an anguished wail as she pounded her balled up fists against the
hardwood floor until they turned red. She cursed God and the heavens and all
that was holy for taking her true love away from her as the tears ran
untapped. All Jennie could do was watch
helplessly and try fruitlessly to gather the remains of the tea roses and the
handmade pot that had held them.
No wonder Momma was so upset. It was the last gift Daddy had given her, a
Mother’s Day find from the local flea market.
Momma had cried then too, when Daddy presented it to her. The sad little rose plant had been quickly
losing its grip on life but Momma had nursed it back to beauty in no time at
all.
The soil trickled through her fingers as she
tried to scoop it into the remains of the broken clay pot. The dirt had fallen on Daddy’s casket little
by little as they filled in the space around his final resting place. Jennie began to sob along with her
mother. The agony that filled the room
echoed throughout the house like a Siren’s wail over the ocean. They clung together crying, a never ending
flood of tears. Jennie had no idea how much
time had passed when the first loud crash of thunder rumbled the very timbers
of the house. A flash of lighting lit
the accumulated darkness of the storm and Jennie jumped to her feet.
“Momma!
Bessie’s still outside! I have to
go and let her in!” She was already up and running toward the door as another
bolt of lightning parted the black sky.
The crack of thunder that followed was deafening. She barely heard her momma calling out to her
not to go as she grabbed the copper door knob of the wooden half door in the
kitchen and ran across the back yard toward the barn.
Rain drops and hail as big as golf balls
pelted against her arms and legs. A hard
rock of ice slammed into her forehead nearly knocking her to the ground as she
slid through the muddied yard to the ramshackle building that housed their
animals. Blood trailed down the side of
her face running into her left eye.
Rubbing at the warm liquid with her fist, she shoved her now soaked hair
out of her face. The door to the barn
swung open in the wind, slamming against the side of the barn with a loud crash
over and over again. Jennie ran into the
barn grabbing the door and yanking it closed behind her. The horses whinnied and neighed as they
stomped their hooves in irritation. The
wind whipped through the eaves as the hail scattered against the tin roof. The noise was as deafening as the never
ending crashing thunder.
The back door to the barn leading to the
small pasture where old Bessie spent most of her days, struggled against the
onslaught of the storm. The bar holding
it in place was the only thing that kept the wind from ripping it off its
hinges. Her hair whipped against her
cheeks stinging her skin as Jennie yanked the wooden bar away and threw the
door open. The wind caught the door
immediately and whipped it back against the side of the structure, tearing the
top half off its hinges. The door hung
precariously as it swung back and forth in the angry weather.
“Bessie!
Come here, old girl! Come on,
Bessie!” Jennie clanged the old bell on
the side of the barn, banging the clapper against the side of the bell over and
over as she yelled for her favorite animal.
A bright flash illuminated the small pasture briefly. Jennie scanned the area still crying out for
Bessie to come home. The words stuck in
her throat when she finally saw her favorite pet. The two thousand pound cow lay on her side in
the mud, her tongue lolling lazily out of her mouth, her big brown eyes
reflecting agonizing pain.
“BESSIE!”
Jennie screamed as she took off at a run across the field. Blood still ran freely from the wound on her
forehead, rainwater running it into her mouth as she ran. Her flip flops were completely saturated, the
foot bed slick. Halfway across the
field, the thong snapped away from the sole, tripping her and sending Jennie
sliding, right shoulder to the ground, a good ten feet across the pasture. When she slid to a stop, Jennie jumped to her
feet, ignoring the burning pain in her shoulder and ran barefoot the rest of
the way to her fallen animal.
Bessie brayed quietly as Jennie dropped
back down to the ground in front of Bessie’s head.
“What happened, old girl?! What happened?!”
Another round of tears began to stream
down her cheeks mixing with the blood and rain water. Bessie lifted her large
tongue and lolled it toward Jennie’s hands as she rubbed the animal between the
eyes. Bessie was dying.
The rain began to lighten ever so
slightly. Thunder still crashed but it
was further away, a longer time after each crack of lightning. As the wind began to recede and the black
clouds shifted to the east, Jennie spotted a charred area of flesh on Bessie’s
left haunch. The beast had been hit by
lightning.
“Oh, Bessie! I’m so sorry!
I’m so, so sorry!” She wrapped
her arms around the cow’s thick neck, the tears and blood on her face mixing
with the water saturating Bessie’s coat.
Bessie brayed ever so quietly in response as she flipped her tail one
time against the muddy ground. As Jennie
laid her head against her favorite animal, she could feel the change as
Bessie’s body relaxed against the ground with the onset of death.
There was no telling how long she lay there
in the soaking field crying into Bessie’s fur.
The rain eventually stopped, the sun began to warm her back and the
birds had resumed their chirping conversations when she felt Momma’s hand
against her back.
“Come on child, come on. Let’s go back to the house so I can tend to
that cut on your forehead.”
“NO!” She cried into the side of Bessie’s
still body.
“Come on, Jennie, get up out of the
mud. Let’s go inside and clean you
up. Bessie’s gone, nothing we can do for
her now.”
Her sobs drown out the sound of Momma’s
pleas and eventually Momma just gave up.
Why did everything she love always have to leave her?
“I’m sorry Bessie! I’m so sorry I didn’t get out here in
time. I didn’t know it was gonna rain
and then the storm came outta nowhere so fast…”
She cried until the tears ran dry, fists
gripping the wet coat of old Bessie.
There was no telling how long she lay there, hugging Bessie before she
heard a familiar voice behind her.
“It was an accident, Jennie-girl. Bessie was a good animal but she was tired.”
The deep voice, warm and smooth as fresh
maple syrup, made her freeze. There was
only one man with a voice like that.
“Da…Daddy?” She turned her head real slow away from
Bessie’s still body and followed the sound of the familiar voice.
Standing behind her, the light of the sun
enveloped him like the light of heaven.
“Daddy? Is it you? Is it really
you?”
“It’s me Jennie- girl. Just dropped in for a quick visit- thought
Bessie might wanna see a familiar face on her way home.”
“Oh Daddy!
I have missed you so much!” She
jumped up, feet sliding in the mud throwing off her balance and sending her
back to the ground where she landed square on Bessie’s haunch.
“I’ve gotta get Momma! She’s gonna want to see you too! Ma….”
“Don’t Jennie-girl.” Daddy smiled at her warmly, love shining from
his eyes. “Don’t call your Momma.”
“But…but, why not?”
“Because she will want me to stay, and I
can’t stay, sweet pea.”
The tears came again, running down her
cheeks unchecked. “But Daddy! We miss you so much! Why did you have to
leave? We need you. I am trying to keep things going, trying to
take care of Momma and the farm, but I don’t know if I can do it all on my
own. Look what I did to Bessie…!”
“It’s OK Jennie-girl. It’s OK.”
Daddy’s voice was soft, comforting.
His words wrapped around her the way his strong arms used to. “You can do it, sweet pea. I have faith in you. You are so much stronger
than you think. You are gonna be
fine. Marshalls always come out on top
and you are a Marshall through and through.
But your Momma, well now, she’s gonna need you for a while.”
“She’s so lost Daddy. All she does is cry and sleep. I beg her to eat, I plead with her to leave
the house but she won’t.”
“It’s just gonna take her some time,
Jennie. But as long as she has you, she
will be fine. I am countin’ on you to
take care of your Momma. Don’t let her
do anything stupid. She will be with me
soon enough. Soon enough…” His words trailed away as he looked toward
the house, the home he had tried to build for his family.
“You will always be my best girl,
Jennie. I love you and I always
will. It’s time for me to go now. Remember, I love you.”
“No!
No, Daddy! Don’t go!” The plea in her voice was heartbreaking, even
to her own ears. A heavy cloud passed in
front of the sun suddenly, throwing the landscape into darkness, before moving
quickly past and allowing the bright sun to prevail again. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the extreme
changes and she rubbed both eyes with mud covered fists. When she was able to see clearly again her
father was gone.
Had he even really been there?
In the place where she thought he had stood,
a brilliant rainbow filled the sky, its colors bright and luminous against the
bluest sky she had ever seen. A lone
monarch butterfly fluttered by her; it’s dance slow and deliberate.
Her father’s promise that everything would
be all right.
“I love you too, Daddy.” She whispered completely certain he could
hear her wherever he was.
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