| General Fiction posted September 28, 2009 | Chapters: |
...4 5 -6- 7... 
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The blessings of a long hot day.....
A chapter in the book Short Stories
Summer
by Begin Again
Leaning against the wooden fence, Tania wiped the sweat from her brow. The sun's yellow orb scorched the ground and seared the bottoms of her leathered feet. It promised to be another long, hot summer day in the fields.
Tania's family had worked on the Creighton's farm for generations. Her great granddad had been part of the slavery era. When Grandpa Creighton inherited the farm, he granted them their freedom, offering paying jobs if they wished to stay. Most did! After all, it was their home. Several of them had been born and raised on the farm; other than schooling, they didn't know any place else. Everyone was expected to put in a good day's work, but the Creightons never overworked their help, treating them like extended family. A well-manicured cemetery on the hill was dotted with family tombstones for those who passed on to greener pastures.
With first light, Tania had gathered several bushel baskets and hurried to the garden, hoping to pick the beans before the blistering sun was too high in the sky. A jug of water and a small lunch she'd prepared sat under the shade of the stately oak tree. The main house was quiet; she knew the young Creighton children wouldn't rise for several hours. Shep, the family collie, was her only companion. She enjoyed the solitude of morning, picking beans and thinking about Lamont, the love of her life.
Looking for a summer job several years ago, Lamont had inquired at the farm and been hired. He was the same age as the Creighton twins, Jack and Jeremy. The three had become inseparable buddies. Therefore, it was understandable, when the twins enlisted in the Army eight months ago, Lamont did the same. Tania didn't want him to go, fearing for his life and their future. They'd stood in front of the justice of the peace, declaring their love, just days before he reported for duty. Four months later, his squadron shipped overseas to Afghanistan. Now, Tania lived for his sweet, touching letters, reading each one over and over before going to sleep at night.
By ten o'clock, the young Peter had joined her in the garden, begrudgingly picking the beans from the vines. He hated working in the garden. Summer was supposed to be fun, filled with lazy days of swimming and playing, not smearing dirt across your face as you wiped the sweat away.
"It's so hot, my throat is cracking, Tania. Can't we stop for a while?" Peter, a sprouting thirteen year old, leaned against the fence, imploring her for a reprieve from this disgusting job. Six bushel baskets of beans were sitting under the tree, what more could anyone expect from him. Conveniently, he dismissed the fact that Tania filled four bushel baskets before he'd even arrived to help.
She could hear the youthful sounds of children playing in the nearby stream, knowing Peter was well aware that his friends weren't slaving in any garden, picking beans. They were finding relief from the scorching sun in the cool water, laughing and having fun.
Smiling, she ruffled his hair, "You've done a fine job this morning, Peter. I appreciate your help. So, you run along and wash that dirt off you in the stream. I can finish up here."
"Wow, you mean it." Suddenly energized, he was jumping all around, eager to escape.
"Sure, go and have fun with your friends."
Not waiting to be told twice, Peter raced toward the stream, suddenly stopping and calling back to Tania, "Are you sure, Tania. Mom will whip my butt if she thinks I shirked on my chores." Jamming his hands in his jean's pockets, he shuffled his feet across the parched dirt, walking back toward her.
"I could use a break myself. Go have some fun. I'll speak up for you, if your mom says anything."
"Promise?" Torn between swimming with his friends and his mother's wrath, he wavered, looking for her approval.
"Promise." The words rolled off her tongue and Peter was once again racing across the field, eager to join his friends in the cool waters of the stream.
Spreading a small blanket on the ground, Tania relaxed against the tree, sipping cool water from the jug. She nibbled at the tuna sandwich, but soon replaced it in her basket. Her stomach wasn't feeling right, an occasional pain gnawed at her. Choosing to ignore it, she carefully unfolded the latest letter from Lamont and read it.
My sweet love,
Though I know it's hot back home, you would not believe this scorching desert we march through each day. Our eyes burn from the gritty sand as the wind whips it through the air. I'm sure we must eat pounds of the grainy stuff every day. Since our water is rationed during our marches, I've learned to appreciate every cooling drop as it trickles down my throat. When I fear I can't take another step, I let my mind wander to your sweet kisses and find strength knowing you patiently wait for me to return home.
I miss you with all my heart. At night, lying on my cot, I close my eyes and dream about our last night together and the passionate lovemaking we shared. Know that your love is what carries me through each terrifying moment over here.
It's lights out, so I must quickly end this letter. I send all my love to you and eagerly await the time when I can hold you in my arms again.
Hugs and kisses,
Lamont
Folding the letter, she slipped it back into her apron pocket and sighed. His letters always made her feel warm inside. She prayed for his safe return home when they could be a family again.
"Tania ... Tania." A young girl's voice was calling her and she turned in search of it.
"Betsy, I'm over here, under the oak tree." She watched as Betsy, a precocious ten year old, skipped across the grass in her direction. Her long, brown ponytail swished in the air, reminding Tania of horses swatting their tails at the flies.
"I need your help, please. Mom wants the canning jars from the barn and I can't reach the top shelf."
Pulling herself from the ground, Tania smiled at the young girl. She marveled at how beautiful she was becoming. It seemed only yesterday, she'd swaddled her in her arms, singing lullabies and kissing tiny fingers. Betsy was growing into a fine young lady. In a few more years, her dad would be fighting the young studs away.
"Help me carry these baskets to the back porch and then I'll get the jars down for you, okay?"
After several trips, the baskets of beans were safely placed on the back porch and the two girls walked arm in arm toward the barn. Betsy was the little sister she'd never had. They'd spent many hours together; Tania listening intently to Betsy read her beautiful poems about nature. Her talent was far beyond her years.
Handing the last box of jars down to Betsy, a yelp escaped Tania's lips, startling both of them. "Are you okay?" Concern washed across the little girl's face.
"Oh yeah, I just stretched a little too far, I guess. My stomach's been acting up all day."
"Maybe you should take it easy for awhile, I know you've been picking beans since early morning. Mom says you work too hard."
"Maybe you are right. I'll help you carry the boxes of jars into the house and then I think I'll take a walk through the meadow."
"Good idea. Even though it's been so hot, the flowers are still blooming. While you're gone, I'll write you a poem about the flowers."
"I'd like that, Betsy. Your poems are always so beautiful." They smiled at each other before scooping up the boxes, carrying them into the house.
"How can you two find anything to laugh about in this heat?" Two boiling pots of water were filling the kitchen with steam. Mrs. Creighton wiped the sweat away with her apron and smiled at her daughter and Tania. "Of course, it has to be one of the hottest days of summer when I decide to start canning."
"Would you like me to help you? I've finished picking for the day."
"No, no, you've certainly done enough for today. I told you you've been working too hard, especially in this heat." Mrs. Creighton affectionately wagged her finger at Tania.
"Well, if you're sure you don't need my help, I think I'll spend a few moments with Granny."
"She hurt herself getting the jars down, mommy."
Mrs. Creighton kissed her daughter's head before turning back to Tania. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"It's nothing. I just stretched a little too far, is all. I'll enjoy a short walk through the meadow; it's shady there. Take some flowers to Granny and spend a little time."
Gathering wildflowers as she walked leisurely through the meadow, Tania reminisced about her early years when Granny had been by her side. Her mom had died giving birth to her and Granny was the only mother she'd ever known. She'd spent hours sitting on the porch at her knee, listening to stories and learning about life, love, respect, honesty and giving a full days work where it was due. When Granny talked about her death, Tania had cried and covered her ears, refusing to accept the inevitable.
Gently, as only the old woman could do, she'd reassured the young girl that even after she passed, Tania would never be alone. She just needed to close her eyes, open her mind, and feel the love they shared deep within her heart.
Climbing the small hill to the cemetery took its toll on her today. Laying the flowers on Granny's grave, Tania sat on the grass, breathing heavily. She hadn't realized the short trek would consume so much of her energy. Her irritated stomach reacted unpleasantly, causing her to yelp in surprise. The dull gnawing was beginning to cause discomfort. Sweat trickled down her back. The sun was setting lower in the sky and soon a cooler breeze would wash across the land before night settled in. A small sigh escaped her lips. She always found comfort visiting the grave. Whenever anything was troubling her, she'd find herself sitting in this exact same spot, talking about her problems, knowing that Granny was listening, just as she had listened so many years ago.
"Oh, Granny, how I wish you were here to hold my hand and talk to me about all the things I never learned. Remember when we'd rock back and forth on the porch swing, without a care in the world? Now I'm a grown woman, twenty-two last month. It doesn't seem possible. I'm married but facing things alone while Lamont is off fighting a war. I get a little scared sometimes, but then I remember that you are always watching over me. I know your love will give me strength and I can face whatever comes."
The sun was lowering quickly now, shades of purple and orange spread across the horizon. "It's gonna be dark soon so I better get back. No need to cause Mrs. Creighton any concern. I miss you, Granny more and more each day. Please, stay close to my heart, showing me the way."
Slowly, Tania followed the well-worn path back to her one room home. The Creightons had built homes for all their workers. Some were larger to accommodate families. This summer she'd been given her own place to share with Lamont and their babies when he came home.
After taking a warm shower, Tania felt better. Her muscles were sore but not anymore than usual. Fixing a light meal, she carried her plate and lemonade to the porch. The sun had sunk below the horizon and the gentle breeze offered little respite from today's heat. She ran her hands across the scarred arms of Granny's rocking chair, smiling, knowing that she was there.
All day long, there'd been a gnawing pain in her stomach, not enough to be bothersome, but enough to be annoying. They were getting stronger now and lasting longer requiring her to take a long deep breath.
Rising from the rocker, she shuffled over to the porch railing. Mr. Creighton had installed a bell especially for Tania. The bell could be heard inside the big house if she needed them. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands across her bulging stomach and smiled before ringing the bell several times. She slowly walked back into the house to lie down. It wouldn't be long now. The Creightons and the doctor would be here soon.
Less than an hour later, with the entire Creighton family gathered around, Tania smiled, a smile only a mother and daughter could share, "Her name's Summer. Isn't she beautiful?" The newborn baby girl lay cradled in her mother's arms.
Summertime Story contest entry
Leaning against the wooden fence, Tania wiped the sweat from her brow. The sun's yellow orb scorched the ground and seared the bottoms of her leathered feet. It promised to be another long, hot summer day in the fields.
Tania's family had worked on the Creighton's farm for generations. Her great granddad had been part of the slavery era. When Grandpa Creighton inherited the farm, he granted them their freedom, offering paying jobs if they wished to stay. Most did! After all, it was their home. Several of them had been born and raised on the farm; other than schooling, they didn't know any place else. Everyone was expected to put in a good day's work, but the Creightons never overworked their help, treating them like extended family. A well-manicured cemetery on the hill was dotted with family tombstones for those who passed on to greener pastures.
With first light, Tania had gathered several bushel baskets and hurried to the garden, hoping to pick the beans before the blistering sun was too high in the sky. A jug of water and a small lunch she'd prepared sat under the shade of the stately oak tree. The main house was quiet; she knew the young Creighton children wouldn't rise for several hours. Shep, the family collie, was her only companion. She enjoyed the solitude of morning, picking beans and thinking about Lamont, the love of her life.
Looking for a summer job several years ago, Lamont had inquired at the farm and been hired. He was the same age as the Creighton twins, Jack and Jeremy. The three had become inseparable buddies. Therefore, it was understandable, when the twins enlisted in the Army eight months ago, Lamont did the same. Tania didn't want him to go, fearing for his life and their future. They'd stood in front of the justice of the peace, declaring their love, just days before he reported for duty. Four months later, his squadron shipped overseas to Afghanistan. Now, Tania lived for his sweet, touching letters, reading each one over and over before going to sleep at night.
By ten o'clock, the young Peter had joined her in the garden, begrudgingly picking the beans from the vines. He hated working in the garden. Summer was supposed to be fun, filled with lazy days of swimming and playing, not smearing dirt across your face as you wiped the sweat away.
"It's so hot, my throat is cracking, Tania. Can't we stop for a while?" Peter, a sprouting thirteen year old, leaned against the fence, imploring her for a reprieve from this disgusting job. Six bushel baskets of beans were sitting under the tree, what more could anyone expect from him. Conveniently, he dismissed the fact that Tania filled four bushel baskets before he'd even arrived to help.
She could hear the youthful sounds of children playing in the nearby stream, knowing Peter was well aware that his friends weren't slaving in any garden, picking beans. They were finding relief from the scorching sun in the cool water, laughing and having fun.
Smiling, she ruffled his hair, "You've done a fine job this morning, Peter. I appreciate your help. So, you run along and wash that dirt off you in the stream. I can finish up here."
"Wow, you mean it." Suddenly energized, he was jumping all around, eager to escape.
"Sure, go and have fun with your friends."
Not waiting to be told twice, Peter raced toward the stream, suddenly stopping and calling back to Tania, "Are you sure, Tania. Mom will whip my butt if she thinks I shirked on my chores." Jamming his hands in his jean's pockets, he shuffled his feet across the parched dirt, walking back toward her.
"I could use a break myself. Go have some fun. I'll speak up for you, if your mom says anything."
"Promise?" Torn between swimming with his friends and his mother's wrath, he wavered, looking for her approval.
"Promise." The words rolled off her tongue and Peter was once again racing across the field, eager to join his friends in the cool waters of the stream.
Spreading a small blanket on the ground, Tania relaxed against the tree, sipping cool water from the jug. She nibbled at the tuna sandwich, but soon replaced it in her basket. Her stomach wasn't feeling right, an occasional pain gnawed at her. Choosing to ignore it, she carefully unfolded the latest letter from Lamont and read it.
My sweet love,
Though I know it's hot back home, you would not believe this scorching desert we march through each day. Our eyes burn from the gritty sand as the wind whips it through the air. I'm sure we must eat pounds of the grainy stuff every day. Since our water is rationed during our marches, I've learned to appreciate every cooling drop as it trickles down my throat. When I fear I can't take another step, I let my mind wander to your sweet kisses and find strength knowing you patiently wait for me to return home.
I miss you with all my heart. At night, lying on my cot, I close my eyes and dream about our last night together and the passionate lovemaking we shared. Know that your love is what carries me through each terrifying moment over here.
It's lights out, so I must quickly end this letter. I send all my love to you and eagerly await the time when I can hold you in my arms again.
Hugs and kisses,
Lamont
Folding the letter, she slipped it back into her apron pocket and sighed. His letters always made her feel warm inside. She prayed for his safe return home when they could be a family again.
"Tania ... Tania." A young girl's voice was calling her and she turned in search of it.
"Betsy, I'm over here, under the oak tree." She watched as Betsy, a precocious ten year old, skipped across the grass in her direction. Her long, brown ponytail swished in the air, reminding Tania of horses swatting their tails at the flies.
"I need your help, please. Mom wants the canning jars from the barn and I can't reach the top shelf."
Pulling herself from the ground, Tania smiled at the young girl. She marveled at how beautiful she was becoming. It seemed only yesterday, she'd swaddled her in her arms, singing lullabies and kissing tiny fingers. Betsy was growing into a fine young lady. In a few more years, her dad would be fighting the young studs away.
"Help me carry these baskets to the back porch and then I'll get the jars down for you, okay?"
After several trips, the baskets of beans were safely placed on the back porch and the two girls walked arm in arm toward the barn. Betsy was the little sister she'd never had. They'd spent many hours together; Tania listening intently to Betsy read her beautiful poems about nature. Her talent was far beyond her years.
Handing the last box of jars down to Betsy, a yelp escaped Tania's lips, startling both of them. "Are you okay?" Concern washed across the little girl's face.
"Oh yeah, I just stretched a little too far, I guess. My stomach's been acting up all day."
"Maybe you should take it easy for awhile, I know you've been picking beans since early morning. Mom says you work too hard."
"Maybe you are right. I'll help you carry the boxes of jars into the house and then I think I'll take a walk through the meadow."
"Good idea. Even though it's been so hot, the flowers are still blooming. While you're gone, I'll write you a poem about the flowers."
"I'd like that, Betsy. Your poems are always so beautiful." They smiled at each other before scooping up the boxes, carrying them into the house.
"How can you two find anything to laugh about in this heat?" Two boiling pots of water were filling the kitchen with steam. Mrs. Creighton wiped the sweat away with her apron and smiled at her daughter and Tania. "Of course, it has to be one of the hottest days of summer when I decide to start canning."
"Would you like me to help you? I've finished picking for the day."
"No, no, you've certainly done enough for today. I told you you've been working too hard, especially in this heat." Mrs. Creighton affectionately wagged her finger at Tania.
"Well, if you're sure you don't need my help, I think I'll spend a few moments with Granny."
"She hurt herself getting the jars down, mommy."
Mrs. Creighton kissed her daughter's head before turning back to Tania. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"It's nothing. I just stretched a little too far, is all. I'll enjoy a short walk through the meadow; it's shady there. Take some flowers to Granny and spend a little time."
Gathering wildflowers as she walked leisurely through the meadow, Tania reminisced about her early years when Granny had been by her side. Her mom had died giving birth to her and Granny was the only mother she'd ever known. She'd spent hours sitting on the porch at her knee, listening to stories and learning about life, love, respect, honesty and giving a full days work where it was due. When Granny talked about her death, Tania had cried and covered her ears, refusing to accept the inevitable.
Gently, as only the old woman could do, she'd reassured the young girl that even after she passed, Tania would never be alone. She just needed to close her eyes, open her mind, and feel the love they shared deep within her heart.
Climbing the small hill to the cemetery took its toll on her today. Laying the flowers on Granny's grave, Tania sat on the grass, breathing heavily. She hadn't realized the short trek would consume so much of her energy. Her irritated stomach reacted unpleasantly, causing her to yelp in surprise. The dull gnawing was beginning to cause discomfort. Sweat trickled down her back. The sun was setting lower in the sky and soon a cooler breeze would wash across the land before night settled in. A small sigh escaped her lips. She always found comfort visiting the grave. Whenever anything was troubling her, she'd find herself sitting in this exact same spot, talking about her problems, knowing that Granny was listening, just as she had listened so many years ago.
"Oh, Granny, how I wish you were here to hold my hand and talk to me about all the things I never learned. Remember when we'd rock back and forth on the porch swing, without a care in the world? Now I'm a grown woman, twenty-two last month. It doesn't seem possible. I'm married but facing things alone while Lamont is off fighting a war. I get a little scared sometimes, but then I remember that you are always watching over me. I know your love will give me strength and I can face whatever comes."
The sun was lowering quickly now, shades of purple and orange spread across the horizon. "It's gonna be dark soon so I better get back. No need to cause Mrs. Creighton any concern. I miss you, Granny more and more each day. Please, stay close to my heart, showing me the way."
Slowly, Tania followed the well-worn path back to her one room home. The Creightons had built homes for all their workers. Some were larger to accommodate families. This summer she'd been given her own place to share with Lamont and their babies when he came home.
After taking a warm shower, Tania felt better. Her muscles were sore but not anymore than usual. Fixing a light meal, she carried her plate and lemonade to the porch. The sun had sunk below the horizon and the gentle breeze offered little respite from today's heat. She ran her hands across the scarred arms of Granny's rocking chair, smiling, knowing that she was there.
All day long, there'd been a gnawing pain in her stomach, not enough to be bothersome, but enough to be annoying. They were getting stronger now and lasting longer requiring her to take a long deep breath.
Rising from the rocker, she shuffled over to the porch railing. Mr. Creighton had installed a bell especially for Tania. The bell could be heard inside the big house if she needed them. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands across her bulging stomach and smiled before ringing the bell several times. She slowly walked back into the house to lie down. It wouldn't be long now. The Creightons and the doctor would be here soon.
Less than an hour later, with the entire Creighton family gathered around, Tania smiled, a smile only a mother and daughter could share, "Her name's Summer. Isn't she beautiful?" The newborn baby girl lay cradled in her mother's arms.
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