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Barefooted
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Barefooted |
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merlynh Member
since 1999-09-26
Posts 411deer park, wa |
BAREFOOTED There I was picking cotton in my bare feet and three rows down was Mrs. Hawkins. No need for watch-in but surely caution. Because I didn't want no trouble from that Mr. Hawkins. The work was hard and the pain was the worst and I was far past working up the thirst. That darn sun surely was making things hard. Why, I was clear out of "yes-ums" and not saying any other words. If-in I knew what was good for me. So on I worked. Hands bleeding and still ten acres to go. Blinded by my own sweat. I'd only stop to wipe my head with my forearm and look up. Yup! She...... was still there. And.......looking to my right. There was Mr. Hawkins. Standing right next to me. What else could I do? I went back to picking cotton. "What you looking at boy?" he said in a stern voice. "Why, just the cotton," says I. "Why, that's all you better be looking at," says he. "Yes-um," was my reply. But just as sure as the sun was hot and their be sweat on my brow. I'd have to wipe. And no matter how I tried. He seemed to be on to me. See? That's what I meant about that caution. Why Mrs. Hawkins wasn't much to look at. I was just plain gawking. Him in his overhauls thinking he was boss when all I done was being neighborly. Come over and helped him pick his cotton. I don't know why he called me boy and I don't know why I was always saying "yes-um." Wee was both white just as sure as white cotton. I was thinking and picking. Why was I picking this cotton anyway? And why was wee playing this game anyway? Why I just stood up and walked right up to that Mr. Hawkins. I stood tall and looked him right in the eye. And said, "Yes-um". He looked down-right mean at me. I thought I was going to wet myself. He flared his nostrils like some bull and grunted back. Why, I was wide eyed and ready to run. Then he curls his lip into the biggest grin I ever seen. "Why are you helping me pick this cotton anyway?" says he. With a surprise look on my face I says, "That's? It's? The neighborly thing to do." He looks long and hard out into the field and there seems to be a stillness that lasts forever. And then he signals to his wife to come on over looking out of the corner of his eye at me. "Why were you gawking at my wife?" he asks me looking suddenly straight into my face. I was scared I must admit and that Mr. Hawkins looked mean to me. Why, he towered over me. Seemed like nearly three feet. And now it was my turn to look hard in a stillness that seamed to last forever. But there weren't no time. There come Mrs. Hawkins closer with every step she took, and with every step I tried to swallow. "Yes-um," I swallowed. "Yes-um?" Mr. Hawkins took a deep breath and let it out slow. One of those last forever kind. Then he suddenly let it out all at once just as Mrs. Hawkins come up to him. "Why don't you go and get us some lemonade. I think the boy here and me are thirsty." Boy! Boy? I was tried of being call a boy. I was just the man he was and I was going to tell him that too. But then he looked at me in that mean way and I got frighten. "Does that sound all right to you boy?" he says. "Yes-um," I swallowed. "Yes-um?" Looking confused he looked up. "You are really thirsty. Aren’t you? B..oo..y." And suddenly stopped like in a middle of a sentence. "What is your name anyway?" I tried to swallow but couldn't. "Yes-um?," is all I could get out. Mrs. Hawkins come from the house with a pitcher and three tall glasses. We sit on the picnic table under a large umbrella and I finish three glasses before I could swallow again. "Tommy!" I shouted. Both Mr. Hawkins and Mrs. Hawkins pulled their heads back looking puzzled. "Tommy? Is that you name boy?" she asked. "Yes-um," says I. "Well Tommy," said Mr. Hawkins. "You still didn't tell me why you keep looking at Mrs. Hawkins all day." I was so embarrassed I seemed to not be able to talk again and the tears started running out of my eyes. I was a man and men weren't suppose to cry and maybe that's why I felt so bad from there on. And it took them a while waiting before I could contain myself to answer. "She looks like my grandmother," I said. Letting out all the memories all at once bought the tears back more than ever. "She died," I added softy. I could see Mrs. Hawkins look down at the table and sigh. I.....I could even tell that Mr. Hawkins sighed too. But just a little it was hard to tell between that mean face he had. "My name is Ray," he said smiling., "And my wife's name is Rose." But I could see him thinking as he paused. "Your about sixteen are you Tom?" he finally said. "Aren't you?" "Yes-um," I replyed. "Yes-um," I swallowed. "Yes-um?" Is all I could say when I was around Jamie. She was Ray's and Rose's granddaughter. And boy was she pretty. And all I could do is the looking. by Merlyn Hearn, Copyrighted 1999 |
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| © Copyright 1999 merlynh - All Rights Reserved | |||
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DreamEvil Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 2396 |
Welcome to Passions in Prose!  Official greeting, don't you know. ------------------ Now and forever my heart hears ~one voice~. DreamEvil© |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Ditto the welcome! Official echo don't you know! An interesting piece here. I must admit I had a bit of difficult time getting into the syntax, but after amoment it grew on me. Well done indeed and I look forward to more! |
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doreen peri Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812Virginia |
Merlyn, my friend! How great to see you here! I truly *loved* this.... the dialect is very well done and the story line kept me involved right through 'til the surprise ending. Very cool, indeed. Your style and voice draws the reader in and I could actually picture the boy in the cotton fields.... I could SEE this! Good work and welcome to Passions. I know you'll really love it here.  dp |
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