Table of Contents
Chapter 1: The Whistling Tune of Autumn
Chapter 2: Dinner Dialogue
Chapter 3: Frostbite
Chapter 4: Blank Canvas
I watched as the dust danced around me, the wind bringing the grass to join its whistling song. The farm was always so full of life, where nature's orchestra played its sugar coated melody. The corn leaves swayed along with the rhythm, keeping its swagger as the breeze plays it harmonic tune.
This was the farm, my home. The corners of my lips twitched before I whirled around to take in the old wooden farm house that seemed to have its own rooftop garden; weeds and straw stuck out of the wooden boards.
Small, no, cozy was a better word to describe it. Knick-knacks and useless objects wasted away around the perimeter of the wooden shack.
The old mutt sat on the steps, still waiting, waiting for a man that will never come back. Cody sat with him, his fingers gliding through the mutt's rustic fur.
Mama was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the window was open and the smoke escaped, leaving a gloomy trail among the vast sea of floating white.
The sun was bidding his slow farewell as me and Cody enjoyed his last glowing stripes before his departure.
All was of peace until Mama's shrill voice sliced through the thin air of fall.
"Dakota," I turned at the sound of my name, "gather up your brother and come on in to wash those filthy hands of yours."
I sighed and took in the last of the painted beauty that is my farm, before grabbing Cody's hand and turning in for dinner.
Cornbread and peas took over my vision and before I knew it I was hauling butt towards the table, only to have a red mark the shape of a wooden spoon on the back of my hand.
"Don't even try Dakota," my mother scolded, "now go wash up."
I sighed before turning and striding towards the door. Our pump was not far from the house. I trudged down the steps and turned towards the rusty pump. Elbow strength was a necessity out on the farm.
Cool water ran over my mucky hands. I glanced over at the broken glass that sat behind the pump. Striking blue eyes hidden behind disheveled auburn hair met my gaze. I looked more closely at the reflection; tanned skin did little to cover up the freckles that dotted my cheeks. My white dress followed the breeze and the denim patches stood out against the orange sky.
I sighed; I would never be beautiful, not that anyone out here cared. All there was in 'town' was a store, saloon, and a town hall; a very small town hall at that. I was home schooled and had no friends other than my horse and the milk cow, Daisy. I sighed once more before I strode away into the candle lit cabin.
Chapter 2: Dinner Dialogue
The wooden stool scraped against the floor as I dragged it out of its former resting place. I plopped down and waited for Mama so that we could bless our food. Cody bounced in his seat beside me, a Cheshire cat smile upon his face. I chuckled at his antics, he was a ball of energy, only stopping to stuff his face.
Mama sat down with a sigh, her hair disheveled and flour covered her outfit. She quickly replaced the tired look on her face to a much happier one.
"Well, Dakota," she said, looking at me hopefully, "would you please say grace?"
I nodded, hoping that doing this one thing would make her feel better. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, the rest of my family followed in suit.
"Dear Lord," I started, "please bless this food and help us through our troubles, Amen."
I kept it short and sweet, the cornbread was too mouth watering to wait. My hands had a mind of their own as they swept the cuisine onto my plate. Mama delicately placed her share onto her plate as Cody copied my movements.
"Hold your horses, savor the flavor." Mama scolded as we wolfed down our food.
I could taste the different flavors on my taste buds; brown sugar, flour, honey, and buttermilk were clashing together inside my mouth. The essence of the cornbread was amazing, mind blowing after a day's work.
"Thank you Mama, delicious." I mumbled through a mouth full of bread.
She simply smiled, amused, and continued eating her dinner. Cody was halfway done with his dinner already. Pa always said that a growing boy needs his food. As if reading my mind, Cody brought up the one thing we all tried to avoid.
"Mama, will Pa ever come back?" he asked innocently.
The room fell silent, the world seemed to stop. Mama looked up at the wide eyed little boy and sighed.
"I don't think so honey." She said sadly.
Pa had gone missing two years ago, he went hunting and never came back. Cody was almost three then, I was eleven. Mama told me not to expect anything, but I couldn't help feel the hope every time I heard a gunshot out East.
Cody slumped in his chair, and the rest of dinner went without the company of sound.
Dinner didn't go very well, and sleep wasn't any better. Winter was making his appearance; his cold breath would glide over my skin causing shivers down my spine. His boisterous laugh would cause the roof to shake in reply.
Cody would crawl onto my bed for warmth, the homestead didn't provide much heat. Wind swept around the house, snow would creep in through the cracks and strike us with their icy forms. Frost, the old foe, paid our crops a visit…
Chapter 3: Frostbite
A high pitched whine brought me from my restless slumber. White light greeted my eyes as they pulled away from their dark embrace. Blinking, I turned to locate the noise, only to find Cody huddled next to me.
"I'm cold." He complained.
I sighed, weren't we all.
"I know buddy, I am too." I replied drowsily.
Mama would be cooking. I best be helping. I thought to myself. I slid out of my cocoon of blankets and padded down the hall. When I strode into the kitchen, I was disappointed to find that and aroma of food did not fill my nostrils. My sight did not find Mama in the kitchen either. I looked at Cody questioningly; he shrugged his shoulders before making a beeline for his bed. He was a sleepy kid in the mornings, but a hard worker; he reminded me so much of Pa that it was scary. Brown hair and bright blue eyes, he was a true country boy.
Mama must be outside. I thought, before quickly striding outside. On the porch was Mama, and in her hands was a white and green bundle. My eyebrows furrowed. I looked more closely at the bundle only to gasp. My hands covered my mouth and my eyes grew wide with horror.
"No," I gasped, "Mama!"
I looked at her helplessly, she only pointed to the rows of white and green bundles. Our corn was covered in cocoons of glittering white frost, the sun was reflecting off of the frozen water crystals.
"Oh no." I moaned.
"Honey, grab the shovel and tell your brother to stay inside," Mama told me softly, "I don't want him to see."
I looked at her, my emotions bouncing back and forth. See what? What does that mean? I gasped as my questions were answered by an unspeakable horror as I looked down the steps. The answer himself lay at the foot of the stairs, white frost over russet brown.
"He didn't bring the dog in."
Chapter 4: Blank Canvas
I shoveled dirt away from the hole in the earth while Mama comforted Cody. Poor Knickers, he froze in slumber. At least he didn't feel any pain. I had to keep reminding myself. I couldn't help glancing at the motionless carcass every now and then.
Cody couldn't bring himself to dry his tears. Knickers was the only thing that he had left of Pa. Now there was no proof that Pa even existed, other than his children.
My mind wandered over to the crops. Every single crop was covered in frost. There was absolutely nothing left of our food, no profit. How were we going to survive? Winter is here and we have nothing!
Death was certainly making his appearance this early morning.
"Can I see him?" a small whimper interrupted my thoughts.
I turned to see little Cody standing behind me. Red, puffy eyes and wet cheeks indicated the pain he was feeling. I gave him a look of sympathy and smiled sadly.
"Of course," I said softly, "he'll be much warmer soon Cody."
He nodded before kneeling down beside his dog. He was whispering his goodbyes but the wind made it to hard to hear his words. I decided to leave him alone with Knickers; I strode up the stairs and joined Mama in the kitchen.
She was sitting at the kitchen table; head in her hands and soft sobs escaped her lips. Mama never cried, she was always the strong one. Never letting her guard down, always the shoulder to cry on. She had to be strong, who else would be, but the thought never occurred to me until today; she needs a shoulder to cry on too.
I gently laid my hand upon her shoulder, hoping to give her some warmth and comfort. Her head snapped up and her glazed eyes met mine.
"I'm so sorry Mama." I whispered.
She brought me close and whispered words of comfort. Tears rolled down my cheeks as Mama's voice cracked with emotion.
This was where our family's relationship would come to the test. The turning point; the point where truth is golden. This was where we start to paint the blank canvas of our lives.