Pale Harvest. Braden Hepner
of half-assed raspberries to grow on it.
—There’ll be community opposition too, said Jack. That stink carries for miles. It’ll become the town’s new identity. And you sure as hell can’t put it in the field out there.
—Ain’t nobody’ll give me a good price. And my pa ain’t got the money to lend me. He’s trying to save for me to go to college. I’ll just wait it out for you to get some land and sell it to me. I know you’re good for it.
—You better go get the cows, said Jack.
—Hold up. I tell you I’m going to college?
—Somebody let you in?
—I ain’t in yet. But my pa thinks I oughta go. He never got the chance to go, and he wants his sons to have the chance. Thinks they got something to teach me, but I ain’t so sure. Probly be the other way around.
—No doubt.
—When he gets the money saved up I’ll go. Plenty of girls at them colleges, you know.
—So I’ve heard. But not a one of um’ll be interested in an ugly bastard like you.
—Plenty of girls. One for everybody. Sometimes two. He looked up at the tractor. You just greasing or you repairing something?
—Do you see any tools around?
—No.
—There’s your answer.
—Two of these tractors are pieces of shit. I ain’t got to tell you which ones. They need to get rid of that Thirty-Twenty at least. Jumps like a mule and the smoke pipe’s busted.
—They’ll drive it into the dirt, said Jack. The Selvedge way.
—My pa told me they about got this place paid off. That true?
—If you heard it, it must be true.
—That’s an accomplishment. Takes most guys two generations to start a dairy farm from scratch and pay it off, and Blair’ll do it in one.
—That’s what shafting your hired help will do.
—Aw, you’ll get what’s coming to you. And you don’t see no brand new toys around neither. All old worn out stuff here. Frugal outfit. Pennywise and niggardly, my pa says. You agree?
—That’s one way to put it.
—Hm. This is one big-ass tractor. Wonder will Blair or Elmer ever have me drive it. I’m going to ask one of um if I can drive it in the parade tomorrow.
Jack slid himself under another grease zerk and cleaned around it with his fingers.
—You’re going to be in the parade?
—Only if I can get this tractor to drive. I ain’t interested in the usual bullshit my ma puts me up to. Wonder which one I should ask. Which one you think I should ask?
—Either one. They’re both liable to say no.
Jack looked at Roydn and his eyes were unfeasibly large behind his glasses.
—Now why is that, you suppose?
—Cause you could go into a fit any minute and kill somebody.
—That ain’t true. I ain’t got it that bad. I got a damn driver’s license. That oughta count for something.
—You know how they are about their tractors.
—They shouldn’t be. It ain’t like they’re nice or nothing. Just thought I’d ask. Can’t hurt to ask.
—Hand me another tube of grease from that box there, will yuh.
—I think I’d ask Blair. But he’s a hard old sumbitch. I’d ask Elmer, but he says no to everything. Took him two years to upgrade me from the four-wheeler to the danged farm truck.
Jack scooted on his back under a set of zerks near the front wheels.
—Why don’t you go get the cows in the barn, he said. You’re late now. They’re dripping milk into their shit.
—Hold up, said Roydn. I tell you I just saw something nice down the lane here?
—What was it, Woolums, a goat stuck headfirst in the fence?
—A girl. Saw her walking down along the lane. You know who it is?
—I don’t.
—Rebekah Rainsford. Thought maybe she was coming back from here. Did you talk to her or something?
—What?
—Did you talk to her or something?
—Rebekah Rainsford?
—It’s what I said. She’s back in town.
—Since when?
—I don’t know. But she’s back in town with her mother. They’re on the run from their old man, holed up at the McKellar place down there. She was about my age. Still is, I guess.
—She was younger than you. Younger than me even. What the hell do you know about anything?
—You don’t know nothing about it? All right. I suppose I could tell you. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Look here, I’ll tell you what my pa told me. They’re running from trouble. It’s her and her mother moved here from Salt Lake cause their old man left um in financial frig all. Left um, flat out. He’s gone. And now they’re here.
—How’d he go about it?
—Gambling is what I heard. Probly a little whorin on the side. They usually go together.
—Gambling, huh?
—It is what I heard. Over in Wendover. So what do you think of her?
—I never knew her that good. She was always kind of snobby.
—Well I’d like to know her. Like Isaac knew Rebekah, you read me?
—You irreverent frigger.
—Well let me know what you think of her once you see her. Should be at church I suppose, and there’s a good reason for you to come back. I told you I’d get you back to church someway, and it looks like I got one. Yes sir. She’d make a man a good wife. I’d like her to bear my children and be waiting for me when I got home from milking these whores. That’d make it all worth it. This here’s the summer of opportunity.
Jack pulled himself out from under the tractor and stood up. Roydn didn’t step back and they were face to face with Jack pinned against the engine of the tractor. The lenses of Roydn’s glasses were thick and dense and his black eyes wandered wetly behind them.
—Welp, he said, looking up at the sun again. Guess I’d better go off and gather them cows. They ain’t about to milk themselves. He leered ugly over his shoulder as he walked away. And you know, buttwipe, he said. You might put in a word for me about this tractor, huh? This big one here. I don’t want to drive nothing else. Cause if so, I got to come tonight and warsh it. Tell him I’ll warsh it for him. See what he says.
Roydn tilted his head back to see him rather than push the heavy glasses back up his nose. He grinned and shuffled off through the gravel toward the corral.
—Going to college, he said to nothing in particular, and started to whistle.
When he was gone Jack walked to the far edge of the west haystack where he could get a good look at the lane across the field as it led away from the barnyard. It was empty as far as he could see. After feeding he left the dog on the ground while he climbed up the supports and under the open-sided hayshed. The stack was uneven near the back. They had hand stacked bales in something like a broad staircase on top of what the bale wagon had brought, and the stack was higher there than the bottom of the tin on the sides and dim. It was a good place for respite and hiding. He’d been going up there since he could climb, always careful where to step, because the way the