Chapter 1
Sarah sat that night on the large porch. The night covered the farm like a heavy blanket bringing peace to almost everything around around her. Well everything but her. The crickets and locus hummed their song with the deep bass from the frogs keeping beat. The stars glistened like dew on roses above her. Even in the night the sticky heat made her skin fell damp. When a slight breeze whispered in the leaves it cooled her.
She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the wicker chair. Another dream woke her. Only on her family farm did she feel safe. Only here did she not watch and worry about who was around her.
She took a deep breath letting the rose scented air deep into her lungs. The smell reminded her of childhood and hope. Nothing looked rosy now. Hope evaded her. Peace would not even come to her in dreams. She felt restless. Her soul hinted that it wanted to spread its wings like the owl that lived in her barn. But this farm, with Poppy was safe. In some ways fear made the farm a prison.
Her mind walked paths during the night that it would not take during the day. It followed old trails of that one night. Her friends had never called her boy crazy and she never felt the need for a man in her life. That one night she smiled at a guy still haunted her.
Nights like these made her wish for someone to talk too. Even though Poppy and her friends were there for her, they listened and tried to help. She went to professionals and they had helped. She felt something missing. A hollow spot inside her she could not find the plug to. At night her soul felt like it drained into the hole and she wandered in the abyss. Lost. During the day when chores never ended she could focus. The silent and stillness of the night drew her to this dark place. She rubbed her chest.
She sighed knowing that morning was coming to soon. Stretching she stood. She snuck inside and to her room. Poppy was a light sleeper and she did not want to wake him.
A few hours later, Sarah sat at Poppy’s old farmhouse table eating breakfast. She felt the world crushing her this morning. The sun was up and a new day was bathed in dew. Yet her heart felt heavy. Sarah had been a responsible person since her teenage years. She helped at the family farm and kept her grades up. Now at twenty five, she brought in a good income. Yet she worried the rest of her family would belittle her for her lack of work effort.
She’d been living with Poppy for about a year now. While she was in college, her parents took a job up north. So she had to choose where she was going to live and finish college. Poppy offered to be her roommate if she would help around the farm. So here she sat at the table like every morning since.
Family meant everything to Sarah. Sure she could have found a small apartment in town or a house but she loved the space and calmness of the country life. The peace at night when you could lay out on the hammock and watch the stars. The sound of the crickets and cattle as they settled for the night made Sarah feel like she was wrapped in a blanket.
Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail in her favorite ball cap. Her t-shirt was tucked into a western jeans. Munching on bacon her eyes were glazed as she did not see what was around her.
Did her family think she was lazy? Or still broken from the incident? Did she act weak?
Poppy hobbled into the kitchen from the den. His knee replacement was giving him fits that morning. Wearing his normal button down shirt and overalls he shuffled in to get his cup of black coffee.
He watched Sarah and noticed that she was not really with him at the moment. For the last year he had watched his middle grandchild curl into herself. The vibrant smiling child that had an independent attitude disappeared. Today her shell sat at the kitchen table with a far away look. She did not want to be in crowds. He watched her cringe when her male family members hugged her or patted her on the back. He could not pry her off the farm to go hang out with her close girlfriends very often.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked with a booming voice.
She jumped and her eyes widened. Her breath caught. Not realizing anyone had come in, she looked like a scared cat hanging from the ceiling. It took her a minute to pull her thoughts together.
“I think I need to go get a job.” she stuttered as she looked at him. Her breath started to return to normal.
For a small old man he had a booming laugh, “You make more off of your online stuff than your sister-in-law does at her job. And she teaches Pre K!’
“What’s your plan for today?” she asked. Her shoulders relaxed as if he had cleared her mind. She did not want to appear lazy or a bum to the rest of the family. She knew she paid more of the bills than Poppy. Well, the house bills. Poppy paid all the farming bills out of the farm money. They were not rich but had a little to spare.
Poppy looked at her in thought for a few minutes. “Well, we need to move cows over to a different pasture. Check the water on the horses, and change the oil on the tractor. Tomorrow, we can move hay.”
Poppy grabbed some bacon off the pan and headed for the door. She put up the cooked bacon and loaded the dishwasher. It was Southwest Oklahoma in August. The temperature would rise to only a 100 in the shade by 10 o’clock and peek around 108 later that afternoon. It was the hot time of year. The two of them had gotten up at six. They could start working knowing the outside time was limited. Poppy moved the tractor in front of the shop by the time she got outside.
While it was still a little cool, they decided to take the truck and with a bucket of feed lead the cows across the pasture to the other pasture. There was more grass over there and the pond was a little fuller. The herd of 40 cows walked without a fight to the open gate. Even the animals were too hot to run and bolt.
Sarah drove back up to the house. It was nearly 10:30 and it was getting pretty hot. She told Poppy “Let’s wait until this evening and then we will change the oil on the tractor. I’ve got some jackets to paint”.
“It will be a whole lot cooler to work in the afternoon than it is right now,” he agreed.
She parked the truck out by the shop that held all the tools that they used for maintenance. The tractor was parked in front of the door ready for them to work on it. Walking across the driveway and to the house, the gravel felt like it would melt the souls of her shoes.
Poppy had moved it from a neighboring farm when Sarah’s dad was a kid. He had added a large porch that wrapped around the front side of the house. The front door did not face the road but the wheat field behind the house.
They walked into the formal living room with a stone fireplace across the room. Light poured in the room from the large window on the far wall. Inside the door on the tile they both pulled their boots off. Neither one of them used the living room much. Nana insisted on keeping it very formal for when guests came. Yet, when visitors did come, they sat in the den or the kitchen table with the family. Poppy, nor Sarah, had the heart to change it since Nana was gone for the last five years.
Poppy went into the den and turned on a show about the history of castles. Sitting in his favorite recliner, he propped his legs up. Rubbing the replaced knee as he settled in. Sarah smiled knowing she made the right decision to come in and cool off. Poppy was not a spring chicken anymore.
She walked into her room she used as an art studio. The studio room with windows that looked out across the yard onto the farm. The south window showed the wheat field that had just been plowed a few weeks ago. Inside the room, a day bed was placed under one window and a computer under the other window. She went to the rack of 10 jackets in various stages of painting. Some were primed, others had a layer of the design on them. The last two just needed the details touched up and then they could be shipped out.
This was her sanctuary. When the world overwhelmed her, she could paint a jacket. The fear would fade away. All that was left was the mixing of colors. The pattern of the designs and the stroke of the paint. She could breathe again. Her mind would focus only on the present brushstroke. She felt like the past could not touch her in here.
She choose a denim jacket with a giraffe head from the drying bar. Hanging it on the easel she used for jackets she started painting the eyes and hair. With it almost complete she stepped back to look. Sarah stepped to the closet and dug out a black sequin from the boxes of supplies. She added it to the giraffes eye to make it glitter. The little things seemed to make these jackets pop.
While she worked, Poppy had put a roast, potatoes and carrots in the oven during the day. The smell was starting to fill the house as the sun began to sink toward the west.
While Sarah cleaned out her brushes in the utility room sink, she could hear Poppy put on his boots on in the living room. Sarah understood his silent message to go work on the tractor. In front of the metal shop that held the tools, sat the tractor that was used to bale and haul hay. The heat pressed down on them still in the triple digits but the south breeze helped slightly.
Sarah and Poppy changed the oil on the tractor. They blew out the radiator and made sure the ac worked for tomorrow. Work was done without much chit chat. Mostly they worked together like a well oiled machine. Knowing when someone needed to be in a certain spot or the other needed a different tool. They were both greasy and dirty as the sun hid behind the horizon. The pole light buzzed to life as it announced that the day was finished.
Pumping orange gritty soap out of a jug sitting on the cement floor just inside the shop door, Sarah’s tummy growled. It felt good to accomplish this nasty work. Sure you can clean the kitchen but tomorrow it will be dirty again. Farm work that you did today, should not be done again until a few months later. It felt more rewarding. Even being hot, covered in grime and sweat, Sarah felt pride in her work on the farm. She washed her hands in the outside faucet and thought about climbing under the cold water. Sweat poured off her body making her clothes cling to her. Her boots felt like they were full of water from her sweating.
Heading in the house, she went to her room and striped the sweaty clothes off and headed for her shower. The bathroom connected to her room was small enough she could touch both walls at the same time. When this house was built a bathroom connected to the bedroom was a luxury. The water was cool as it slid the dirt and sweat out of her hair and off her body. She quickly showered knowing Poppy would rinse off too.
Popping a can of green beans open she put them in the microwave. While Poppy took a shower, Sarah made sweet tea and dished the roast, carrots and potatoes out of the pot. They sat down for supper. This was common in farm families. Summer suppers usually happen at dark, too much work and exhausted from the heat.
“Kristy texted you while you were in the shower.” Poppy spoke up after their plates were fixed and he had forked a carrot.
“Oh? I will call her after we eat.” She recalled laying her phone on the table on her path to the shower.
“I told her to pick you up tomorrow for the rodeo. That you would love to go with the girls,” He eyed her as he put the meat in his mouth. Knowing he would send her into a panic attack from going to a rodeo. She needed to be pushed and Poppy had a feeling he she would never go unless he shoved her out.
“I will call and tell her that I change my mind.”
“No, you need to get out of this house. Go to the rodeo.” His voice held authority but was not stern or sharp. He stated the facts like he talked about weather.
“I don’t have too” Sarah insisted. The sweat breaking out on her brow and her heart kicking up a notch.
“It is not good for you to be a homebody. Even I go once a week to meet the old farts. Most of the people I know are dead but I still get out and see people.”
Sarah ducked her head. She knew he was right. She was too tired to argue with him. She would work out how to weasel out of the girl’s night out tomorrow. They ate the rest of her supper as she turned over how to get him to let her stay home. He watched with a smile and prayed to Nana and God to give her a nudge in the right direction.
“I am tired,” he said. “Goodnight, Firefly.”
“Night Poppy.”
Poppy always was in bed by 9 p.m. He was up by 5 AM, if not earlier. Sarah, on the other hand, could work until midnight and liked to get up about 6:30.
As normal, she went to the studio room and put her headphones in. As she painted another jean jacket back of a horse head in a headstall she hummed to the music. The music and paint helped to ease her mind on what Poppy had demanded. Her going to town.
As she thought about going to grocery store or church it took a mental day of preparing. She hated if someone stopped to chat like everyone did in their small town. To go to a rodeo and know they would want to make small talk could make her almost faint.
She crawled into the old white metal bed Nana had brought from her childhood home. She reached over and turned off Great Grandma’s blue lanterns that were converted to electricity for her. The moon danced into the window. She sighed as her body relaxed under the quilts. She felt safe and at home.
