Down the Dirt Road (6 page)

    An hour later, sweat running down her back, Jennie carried the jugs of fresh milk up to the house and stashed them in the old style ice chest on the side of the house.  She was up to her ankles in chickens as she gathered the morning’s eggs into a large wicker basket slung over her left arm when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

    “Hey there, Jennie.”

    
Michael.

     She turned around slowly, using the extra time to compose herself, paste on her indifferent expression.

     “What is it with you two?  Did Trisha send you?”

     Michael smiled that irresistible smile of his, the one that always made her weak in the knees and melted her heart.  “Come on, Jennie.  Don’t be like that.”

    “Like what, Michael?  Like mad that you slept with my best friend?  Like hurt because you told me that you loved me and it was OK to wait but the second that I leave town you are hot and heavy with Trisha?  What should I be like
then?  Happy that you decided to show up at my father’s funeral?  Secretly pleased that you are standing here on my farm smiling at me like nothing ever happened?”

     He raised his hands up, as if in protection.  “Whoa, girl!  Slow down!  I just came by to see how you were.  See if you needed any help around here what with your Daddy gone….”

     “He’s dead, Michael.  It’s OK, you can say it out loud.  Saying it won’t make it worse.  Damn
it, Michael
!  It can’t get any
worse
, you know?”

    Michael closed the distance between them in two easy steps, his long legs covering twice as much ground as hers ever could.  For a brief second she hoped he would take her in his arms, hold her close like he used to and tell her everything was going to be all right.  And then a picture of Michael holding Trisha close, covered in straw and sweat filled her mind and she took a step back, praying he wouldn’t touch her.

    “I’m sorry ‘bout your Daddy, Jennie.  I know how close ya’ll were.”

    “You don’t know anything.”

    She turned her back on him so he wouldn’t see the tears.  She shrugged off the large hand he placed on her shoulder.  “Go away, Michael.  We are through, there’s no reason for you to
be here anymore.
”
    She whirled around to face him, a sudden burst of courage amping up her confidence.  It lasted for all of ten seconds when Michael reached out and traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb. 
His touch was gentle, familiar.  She had thought he loved her when he touched her so sweetly.  But that wasn’t love.  Just the hope that one day she would let him touch more of her.  All of her. 
She stepped back, gathered her courage
back up
and scowled at him.  “You have to leave now.  I don’t want you here.
”

     Oh
,
how she did want him
to stay
.  Her heart ached as he stood there and looked down at her.
  But he couldn’t.  He was with Trisha now.

     “OK, Jennie.  I’ll go.  But if you need anything- anything at all- you call me now, ya hear?  I’ll be here in a jiffy to give ya a hand with whatever you need.
  Your daddy was
a good man.  He will be missed by a lot of folks.”

    “Don’t you talk about my Daddy.  The last thing he heard before he died was how you broke his little girl’s heart.  I don’t need anything from you.”

     He dropped his head and turned around to walk away.  After a few steps he stopped and looked back at Jennie.

    “I don’t love her, you know.  It’s you I love- I’ll always love.”

     “Right, well, you sure got a funny of showin’ it.”  Jennie snapped, the words as sharp as a razors’s edge.  Michael winced and shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

    
“I’m
sorry I hurt you.  If I could take it back I would. Trisha was just so… so hard to
resist
in that miniskirt and she smelled so good and I wa
s missin’ you…  But I shoulda’.
  I shoulda’ turned and jus’ walked away and never done what I did.  You won’t ever know how sorry I am.”

    “I was gone for four hours.  You couldn’t have missed me that much.  You were horny and Trisha was willing.  I’ve come to terms with it and you should too.  Now, just go on home and do whatever it is you gotta do and leave me alone.  I got work to do.”

     Michael just stared at her for a full sixty seconds, his eyes searching deep into her own before he turned and walked away without another word.  As soon as he was out of sight, Jennie leaned up against the side of the chicken coop and let out a long breath.  The floods came and she cried until her tear ducts ran dry.
She cried for her broken heart and the newfound loneliness that had settled over her since Daddy had died.  The tears ran for all the long nights sharing secrets with Trisha and all the sweet love that she would never know with Michael.  The chickens circled around her ankles clucking and pecking as though to comfort her.  White feathers swirled in the dust filled air, clinging to her hair and tickling her bare skin.

    When the tears finally ran out, she took a deep breath, grabbed the egg basket and headed back to the barn.  There was too much work to be done before school started up again in a week.  She wouldn’t waste any more time mourning Michael or Trisha.  What was done, was done.  Best thing to do was to just move on and focus on the future.

    The future.

     Not like she had a future anymore.  Momma needed her, the farm needed her.  She was never going to get out here now.  No college.  No big city.  Just a lifetime of chicken fea
thers, cow manure and a rotten
dirt road
no one ever saw fit to be pave
.  If she had anything left in her, she would have cried again.  But there was nothing.  No more pain, no more sadness, no more emotion at all.
     Bessie brayed as she walked by and nudged her arm with her head.  The motion was comforting and Jennie stopped to pat her old friend and run her fingers through her bristly coat.

     “It’s just you and me from now on, old girl.  Just you and me.”

    Her words were sad, resigned. 
The day her father died, her dreams died right along with him. She, too would one day die right here on this farm, a
lone, at the end of a dirt road only she doubted anyone would really miss her at all.

5.

     Momma was sitting on the big covered front porch when Jennie made her way back in from
t
he barn.  It was late in
the afternoon. 
The
sun had dropped behind the house and the porch was bathed in cool, welcoming shade.  Momma had a pitcher of ice cold, fresh lemonade on the round glass topped table.  Condensation ran down the sides of the pitcher from the heat, pooling on the glass and dripping, drop by drop onto the wood planks below.  Chunks of lemon and a half dozen or so raspberries floated in the yellow liquid.  Jennie’s mouth wate
red at the thought of the sweet
tartness passing over her tongue and cooling her overheated body from the inside out.  Momma sure always knew the right thing to do.

     “You look beat,
Jennie girl.  This heat’s too strong to stay out in for so long.”

    Momma looked plenty exhausted herself; eyes red rimmed, black smudges that ran deep beneath them.  Jennie sighed.  They had become quite the pair.
  She climbed the wide planked steps and plopped down into the other chair perched by the small table.

    “Don’t worry Momma.  I spent most of the day in the barn, away from the sun.  Had a lot of cleanin’ to do in there.”

     “You know, sweet pea, I can hire someone to keep things running for a while.  Your Daddy left us enough life insurance to get us through the rough
patch.”

     “I’m fine, Momma.  Keep the money in the bank.
  I can handle it.”

     She
poured a glass of the lemonade. C
ondensation ran down her arm leaving streaks in the dust
and di
rt that had accumulated on her skin during the day.  The ice cold liquid chilled her throat and cooled her insides.  She drank the whole glass in one swallow.  Momma watched with disapproval but she didn’t say anything about manners or lady like behavior.  Propriety seemed to have gone with Daddy to the netherworld.

     “What about when you go back to school next week?’

      “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘
bout that all day.  I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough credits to graduate now.  I’m gonna go in and see my guidance counselor tomorrow.  See ‘bout early graduation and skippin’ my senior year.”

   Sadness filled Momma’s eyes again.  “But what about college?  Your future?  Your dreams?”

  Jennie’s skin prickled with angst as Momma asked the questions she knew she would but hoped she wouldn’t.

     Her voice was firm when she spoke again.  “This
is
my future now, Momma.  The farm – you- need me here.”

    “Your whole life, all you ever talked about was getting out of here.”

    “My whole life I expected Daddy to live forever.”   

    Jennie’s words hung in the air between them, suspended by the sadness that enveloped them constantly the past few days since John Marshall had passed.  There was no disputing that his death had changed their lives and the sadness had become as much for themselves as for him.

Neither one of them spoke for a long time.  The sun continued to set beyond the horizon and dusk began to settle in around them.  From down by the pond, a bull frog croaked initiating a cacauphony of crickets, cicadas and beetles that serenaded them as they sat.  Finally Jennie spoke again.

    “I’m sorry Momma.  But things have changed now.  All we got is each other and Daddy’s dreams.  This farm was his life, his dream.  It’s all we have left of him.”

   “But what about your dreams, sweet pea?”

  
“I’ll make new dreams.  You had dreams when you were my age but you spent a lifetime here with Daddy.  Farm life was good enough for you, it will be good enough for me too.”

    “I fell in love with your father.  Love makes people do things they wouldn’t have imagined doing on their own.  I willingly gave up my plans because I wanted to be with John.  He was a farmer, it was in his blood.  He hated going to the factory every morning, he couldn’t wait to get home and get outside with the animals and the hay fields.  I wanted to be with him and he needed to be here.  But you aren’t making your decisions willingly.  You are trying to live your father’s life for him and he wouldn’t want that for you.”

    “If he cared so much about what I wanted he wouldn’t have left us.”

    The words left her mouth before she had the chance to even think about biting them back.  She felt horrible instantly and the look of raw pain on her Momma’s face caused a surge of guilt to well up from deep within her gut.

    “I’m sorry, Momma.  I shouldn’t have said that.  I don’t seem to have much control over my tongue these days.”

    Momma reached across the small table and placed a hand on her only daughter’s arm.  “Your father was so proud of you.  From the day you were born, pride oozed from his pores whenever he held you.  You were the first thing he thought of when he woke and the last thing we talked about before he fell asleep.  He had high hopes for his baby girl and it would sadden him greatly to know that you are going to give up everything to stay here.  Selfishly, I want you with me.  I don’t want to be alone.  I can’t do the things your Daddy did or that you can do.  So, I say, do what you think is right.”

      The hand on Jennie’s arm began to shake, slight tremors at first.  Momma yanked her arm back and dropped it into her lap, fear in her green eyes for the briefest of moments.  An odd sensation washed over Jennie.  Something wasn’t quite right, she could feel it but Momma’s expression had become shuttered.  Jennie recognized the look- she wouldn’t be getting any answers to any questions that night.  Their conversation was over.

     She stood and stretched.  Her back ached and her muscles were sore.  After Michael had left, she threw herself into mucking out the stalls, replacing the hay bales and doing some general organizing in the messy barn space.  Daddy was a good man but neat and organized he wasn’t.

   
“I’m gonna take a hot shower, Momma.”  Her stomach rumbled loudly as she picked up her empty lemonade glass and made her way toward the door to the house.

    “Maybe you should eat something first, sweet pea.  You haven’t eaten much more than a finch
does
since… since… in a few days.”
  Elise’s voice broke as she tried not to have the say the words.  Jennie knew exactly how she felt.  The word dead was so final and if she refrained from voicing it then maybe John Marshall wasn’t actually gone for good.  Her ears automatically strained to listen for his old Ford coming up the rutted lane.