Cruel Harvest (24 page)
Early one morning, while the dew was still on the grass, I was picking under a large tree so full of apples the branches touched the ground. I had been humming softly, and suddenly realized Daddy had not yelled at me for singing. I looked around but he was not in sight.
“Where is Daddy?” I asked Nellie
She had an apple-picking bucket strapped around her neck and shoulders. Daddy felt picking apples was the quickest way to make money. Of all the farm jobs, this was my favorite. It was cool under the large trees, and it was clean work. The smell was delicious, and we could eat apples when Daddy wasn't watching.
Nellie shrugged in response to my question. “I saw him off talking to some woman.”
This was not odd or unexpected, but for some reason I felt curious to see who it was. I crossed the lines of apple trees, looking down each row until I found him. He was indeed talking to a woman. He was all smiles, and he had changed his voice to a soft purr.
The first thing I noticed was her face. She was very pretty with long, flowing blond hair and big blue eyes. Her features were strong but feminine, and she smiled as she spoke with Daddy. She was a little taller than him and built much heavier. As I watched, a little girl about four years old, as dark as her mother was light, appeared from behind her, playing under the fruit-laden branches.
I was shocked when I saw Daddy pick the small child up in his arms. He patted her long, shiny black hair and did a little magic trick, making a quarter appear behind her ear. I heard the little girl laugh. It was a bubbly and infectious sound, and despite myself, I smiled.
I thought little of that scene until the next night, when Daddy brought us home from working the orchard. He was excited and agitated. Daddy told me and Nellie to clean up the cabin, and he left in the car. There was not much to clean, considering we had so little of our own, but I worked at getting a layer of the ever-present dirt off the floor and the cobwebs from the ceiling. Daddy came rushing back in with a sack full of fried chicken and some fixings.
My mouth watered at the smell of it, but I was wary. Daddy didn't bring home food like that for us. I figured it was some kind of trap, and that if I ate it, he'd hurt me. So I hovered around, my stomach rumbling and my mind fighting the almost uncontrollable urge to snatch up a chicken leg and race out of the cabin.
Things became clearer when a soft knock sounded at the cabin door. I started. Visitors were usually unwelcome, but Daddy hurried to the door and opened it. There stood the tall, heavyset blond woman and her young, dark-haired daughter. I would come to know them too well: Millie and Mary Anne. Unbeknownst to them, they were walking right into my nightmare.
I saw Daddy
flirting with Millie in the fields many times over the next few days. She and Mary Anne came by the cabin every night. Mary Anne played with me and Nellie. She was an adorable little girl and I loved her. In spite of my mind warning me not to get too close, my heart melted inside my chest when she called me “Fances.” Millie told me that Mary Anne's father, who was not around any longer, was a full-blooded Native American.
Mary Anne loved to play, and I would sit for hours tearing out paper dolls for her. She was a happy child, filled with curiosity and a desire to learn anything. I read comic books to her, and if we had nothing else, I recited stories that Mama had taught me.
We started picking apples alongside Millie. Mary Anne, however, was too little to work. She just played in the apple orchard beside her mother, sometimes trying to get me and Nellie to join in.
“Why'd you gotta wuk so hard?” she asked, her little brow wrinkled.
Any other child saying that to me would have made me laugh. Her big, dark eyes were so serious that I could tell she just didn't understand why I couldn't play with her. So I answered her with gentleness.
“I'm older than you, honey,” I said. “I need to work to get money.”
She stared up at me with wide, dark eyes that made me think of a baby deer.
“I'm four years old.”
“You are? You're getting so big.”
“I am a big girl. Pappa says so.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You got a daddy?”
“Pappa's my granddaddy. My daddy is gone off. I think he's building a bridge someplace far-off.” She looked out over the tops of the apple trees. “Far, far-off.”
“What makes you think he's building a bridge?”
She shrugged. “Mommy says he'll be gone for a long time.”
I nodded, but I was not sure what she was talking about. She just stared at me as if waiting.
“Frances!” Daddy called out.
I jumped and quickly started filling my sack. Mary Anne danced around me.
“Here, I'll help,” she said.
She'd pick an apple off the ground and shove it into my sack. Her little hand could barely grip the ripe fruit. It made me smile to watch her try to help so earnestly, but then I caught sight of Daddy giving a warning look.
“I gotta get back to work, baby,” I said, taking a step away from Mary Anne.
“I'm helping.”
“You are a big help.” I put my hand up as if to stop her following me. “But I'll see you tonight, okay?”
“Can we play hide-and-seek?”
“We sure will, Mary Anne. Tonight, after work.”
“Okay,” she said with a big grin.
I watched Mary Anne skip off, and even with Daddy's threats, I could not help but smile after her.
One day while
working in the field, I stopped to get a cup of water from the large tank the farmer had left out. I had found a shady spot under one of the tall apple trees and sat down for a short break. I heard rustling down the row and thought it might be Mary Anne. She always seemed to know what area I was at in the apple orchard. When she'd find me we would wrestle in the soft grass for a minute or two, or I would give her a piggyback ride. She climbed all over me like a monkey whenever she caught me sitting down.
I braced myself, only to find it was Millie instead. She saw me, and her broad-featured face broke into a smile.
“I was looking for you, Frances,” she said.
“Here I am.”
I was not being sassy. I liked Millie well enough, but I felt reserved. A thought had crept into my mind one day while I was babysitting Mary Anne. Mama had no choice in the matter, but Millie seemed to be seeking out Daddy's attention. Couldn't she see him for what he was? It gave me the creeps to watch her hand Mary Anne over to Daddy. He would play and cut up with the little girl, but I knew it was an act. I thought poorly of Millie when she brought Mary Anne around.
Millie did not seem to notice any of my reservations. She sat down next to me as if she were a girlfriend come to talk about boys. In a way, that is exactly what she was doing.
“You know, I might be coming with you when you pack up and leave next week,” she said.
I felt every muscle in my body tense up. Was she crazy? I wanted to scream at her, tell her to run away and flee for her life before she and her daughter got hurt. As the words formed in my mind, however, they were quickly replaced by an image of Daddy, his fist pounding on the dashboard, his eyes filled with madness and hatred. My tongue tied up, and I had to look away.
“Tell me, Frances, what does he like?”
“Huh?”
“What does your daddy like? I want to make him happy.”
I could not believe what she was saying. Could she really be that blind? Not knowing what else to do, I just shrugged.
“I don't know.”
“Don't be shy,” Millie said. “It's about time you had someone to care for you and Nellie.”
I could not stand it any longer. I was scared to death, but between clenched teeth I forced out the only words I could think to say.
“My mama is not dead,” I said.
“What? Oh, Frances! I know it must be hard.”
“She ain't dead,” I said. “She's in South Carolina.”
Millie shook her head as if to say I was a silly child.
“Your daddy said that Mary Anne can come along. I know you like her, and she loves you.”
I tried once more.
“I don't think you really know him,” I said.
I could not believe the words left my mouth. I knew how dangerous it was for me to talk this way. I had no doubt Daddy would kill me if he knew, but the thought of Mary Anne gave me the courage to at least hint at the dangerous road Millie was choosing.
Millie tilted her head and squinted at me. She had made up her mind already. I could see it as clear as the sun. She paid my warning no mind. Instead, she patted my shoulder and walked away.
Millie and Mary Anne lived with her elderly parents in a small house near the orchard. That night, Daddy went to visit her. When he came back to our little cabin, he had fire in his eyes.
“What'd you tell Millie 'bout me?” he growled.
My mind raced. He grabbed a fist full of my dress, tearing the fabric and almost lifting me off the ground.
“I didn't say nothing bad,” I stammered. “She asked me what you liked and I said I didn't know what you like. I didn't want to say the wrong thing to her and mess things up for you.”
I saw something register behind his eyes. It was as if the character he was playing in front of Millie and Mary Ann came back out. His grip loosened.
“I like her a lot,” I said. “And Mary Anne too.”
“I don't care if you like 'em or not. You just better keep your trap shut if you don't want some of this!” He pushed his hard fist against my mouth.
I did not say anything else. I knew I was on shaky ground. His anger could flare at any moment, and I knew I'd provoked him by saying what I did to Millie.
“If you say anything to her again, I will kill you.”
He said it like someone might say, “I will take a breath.”
When Mary Anne came over the next night, Daddy bought her a sucker and bounced her on his knee. Millie looked at me once. I half expected that she had told him to get me in trouble, but her expression hinted otherwise. She looked sad on my account. When she came over to me, I understood why.
“I am not replacing your mama,” she said. “Don't worry about that, okay?”
I nodded. I knew at that moment she had utterly misunderstood my hinted warning. I had tried, God knew I had, but I didn't think there was anything I could do to save little Mary Anne.
The orchard was
picked clean by the next day. Back at the cabin, Daddy told us to load up the car. We did as bidden and climbed into the backseat when done. I looked out the window but didn't see Mary Anne or Millie approaching from the road. When Daddy started up the engine, I felt total relief and happiness for Mary Anne. Maybe Millie had understood my warning after all.
Daddy drove the car toward the highway, but my heart sank when he turned off toward the small house sitting up on the hill overlooking the orchard. As we rolled to a stop, I saw an elderly couple who had to be Millie's parents. They were much older than Daddy. Her mother was a soft-looking, kind-faced woman. She was hanging laundry on the line at the side of the house. Her father sat on the porch, a cool expression on his face as he eyed the car.
Daddy jumped out and walked quickly toward the house.
“Hullo there, Harley. How you doin' today?” Daddy said in a cheerful tone.
Millie's father nodded but said nothing. I could see the open suspicion on her mother's face. Then I heard Mary Anne laughing as she pushed open the screen door and ran to the car. I did not open the door for her so she stopped outside.
“Let me in,” she yelled.
She held a rag doll tightly in her arms. Nellie, rolling her eyes as though to say I was stupid, leaned across me and opened the door. Mary Anne scurried inside and snuggled up beside me. She was so excited.
I could barely look at her. Instead, I watched as Millie came out of the house carrying a large leather bag. She leaned over and kissed the top of her father's head, but he did not move. He stared off into space as if he did not see her. Millie went to her mother, and I saw the woman fighting back tears. She hugged Millie but looked suspiciously at the car. It was as if she wanted to pull Mary Anne out and hold onto her forever.
Daddy took the bag from Millie's hand and loaded it in the trunk. He called out to her parents, saying he'd care for their daughter. They said nothing. He opened the passenger door and held it as Millie got inside the car. I was so afraid, knowing what they were in for but not able to warn them for fear of my own life. It made me sick to my stomach. When Daddy got in, Mary Anne leaned forward.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said.
My heart ached for her.
Millie never saw
it coming. I am sure of that. We were in the car for only a day when Mary Anne started to cry. She had lived an easy life with three caring adults to fawn over her. When she had to use the bathroom and Daddy refused to stop, she lost control.