The sun shone bright upon my face as my hand tried to unsuccessfully block
away the glare. I stared out into the open field, silently watching as the
reaper chunked and clinked along, the sound of cutting my music for the hot
July afternoon. The cut off shorts rubbed something awful against my thighs
as the wooden fence post cut into the underside of my legs. It was a
familiar position as the sun hit my shoulders, darkening the already brown
skin. The sweat from the cool bottle made my hand cold and slippery as I
took another swig of root beer. In a few minutes lunch would be over and it
I would go back to pulling weeds in mama's garden. Feeling the sweat bead
on my forehead, I wished for even the slightest breeze to pick up and make
this day barley endurable.
Taking one last look to the man on the gleaming reaper, I slid off the fence and slowly shuffled back to the garden patch. It seemed like the weeds had grown back since I had taken my half hour lunch. Cursing them as I dug around in the dirt on my raw hands and knees, I dreamt of the day where I could lay around the house all day. My indulgence on the little fantasy got me through the day and my chores. As we gathered for dinner, someone had the unfortunate duty to ask me of my day.
"My day? My day was as long as a slug is slow. The sun seemed to beat down on the poor people forced to work outside and gave up no relief. Not even a kind wind to cool our hot brows as we labored."
My father chuckled at this along with the other men at the table. The farmhands just shook their heads dismissing me as a silly girl, not knowing real work and went back to their eating. Mother handed me a plate with a look that said 'hush up' and I felt ashamed and ducked my head to pray before I ate.
The food tasted so good going down. I could slowly feel my shoulders unclench and the muscles all down my back relax. That's the worst part though; it's when you feel all the knots in your back and all the achy soreness. So after dinner I went down to the lake with the shadow of the moon as my foot guide. Dipping into the cool water was a jolting sensation, making my whole body shiver with appreciation. Slowly swimming into the middle of the lake, I could feel my muscles stretch and slowly warm, releasing tension built up over a week of bent over work. This was truly heaven, I thought as I moved out over the glassy lake. The moon and stars looked at their reflection in the water as I made my way to the other side of the banked lake. Stretching out on the little beach, I let my body slowing dry off in the cool night air.
My heart was pounding when I first heard it, slow rustling, and then voices. I lay still, my heart pounding. I heard it again, and my clothes on the other side of the lake. I still had my under things, but the indecency of someone catching me in them was almost too horrible to imagine. What if it was one of the men or farm boys? My heart pounded harder causing my face to flush at just the thought. Hiding away behind the shrubbery, I fell back into the shadows as the two figures came into the dim light cast by the sky.
I was trapped there, them on the side that led to the house. I would have to stay until they were gone. And my clothes were all placed behind a rock on that side too, so I couldn't even get dressed and go the long way around. I sat behind the tall rhododendron bush that had slightly wilted in the hot sun. The bright pink flowers gave off the nauseous smell reminding me of my grandmother around Christmas time and the leaves were larger then my hand. This plant must have been older then I, and as I sat in it's protection I felt guarded by it's motherly sweetness.
The two figures moved around a little, but it was hard to tell what they were doing or saying. It was a dull mumble and the light laughter of a woman that reached my ears from my hiding place. They disappeared from view in the long grass, but I could tell that they were still there by the rustling sounds. Then, I heard the laughter stop and a shout arise. The scream seemed to die though as one figure rose from the grass and washed it's hands in the lake. Looking back across the lake the figure seemed to look right at me, and it made me shudder. Then it left with its stalky walk and hunched shoulders disappearing into the night.
No rustling came from the grass were the other figure had been, and no soft laughter. Understanding dawned on me as I fell back into the protecting arms of the rhododendron, breathing in the familiar and calming smell and trying to block out what might have just happened right in front of my own eyes. Gripping the leaves bigger then hands, I cried into them, letting my tears fall off them into the soil below. That was the night my innocence and naivety was lost to the cruel world, that night in the rhododendron bush.
Taking one last look to the man on the gleaming reaper, I slid off the fence and slowly shuffled back to the garden patch. It seemed like the weeds had grown back since I had taken my half hour lunch. Cursing them as I dug around in the dirt on my raw hands and knees, I dreamt of the day where I could lay around the house all day. My indulgence on the little fantasy got me through the day and my chores. As we gathered for dinner, someone had the unfortunate duty to ask me of my day.
"My day? My day was as long as a slug is slow. The sun seemed to beat down on the poor people forced to work outside and gave up no relief. Not even a kind wind to cool our hot brows as we labored."
My father chuckled at this along with the other men at the table. The farmhands just shook their heads dismissing me as a silly girl, not knowing real work and went back to their eating. Mother handed me a plate with a look that said 'hush up' and I felt ashamed and ducked my head to pray before I ate.
The food tasted so good going down. I could slowly feel my shoulders unclench and the muscles all down my back relax. That's the worst part though; it's when you feel all the knots in your back and all the achy soreness. So after dinner I went down to the lake with the shadow of the moon as my foot guide. Dipping into the cool water was a jolting sensation, making my whole body shiver with appreciation. Slowly swimming into the middle of the lake, I could feel my muscles stretch and slowly warm, releasing tension built up over a week of bent over work. This was truly heaven, I thought as I moved out over the glassy lake. The moon and stars looked at their reflection in the water as I made my way to the other side of the banked lake. Stretching out on the little beach, I let my body slowing dry off in the cool night air.
My heart was pounding when I first heard it, slow rustling, and then voices. I lay still, my heart pounding. I heard it again, and my clothes on the other side of the lake. I still had my under things, but the indecency of someone catching me in them was almost too horrible to imagine. What if it was one of the men or farm boys? My heart pounded harder causing my face to flush at just the thought. Hiding away behind the shrubbery, I fell back into the shadows as the two figures came into the dim light cast by the sky.
I was trapped there, them on the side that led to the house. I would have to stay until they were gone. And my clothes were all placed behind a rock on that side too, so I couldn't even get dressed and go the long way around. I sat behind the tall rhododendron bush that had slightly wilted in the hot sun. The bright pink flowers gave off the nauseous smell reminding me of my grandmother around Christmas time and the leaves were larger then my hand. This plant must have been older then I, and as I sat in it's protection I felt guarded by it's motherly sweetness.
The two figures moved around a little, but it was hard to tell what they were doing or saying. It was a dull mumble and the light laughter of a woman that reached my ears from my hiding place. They disappeared from view in the long grass, but I could tell that they were still there by the rustling sounds. Then, I heard the laughter stop and a shout arise. The scream seemed to die though as one figure rose from the grass and washed it's hands in the lake. Looking back across the lake the figure seemed to look right at me, and it made me shudder. Then it left with its stalky walk and hunched shoulders disappearing into the night.
No rustling came from the grass were the other figure had been, and no soft laughter. Understanding dawned on me as I fell back into the protecting arms of the rhododendron, breathing in the familiar and calming smell and trying to block out what might have just happened right in front of my own eyes. Gripping the leaves bigger then hands, I cried into them, letting my tears fall off them into the soil below. That was the night my innocence and naivety was lost to the cruel world, that night in the rhododendron bush.