by Dwayne Phillips
Short Story 2008-14, 5 April 2008
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The red Ford sedan slowed as it approached a turnoff from the two-lane highway, just as it had done the three previous turnoffs.
“Is this it?” asked Todd.
“Yes,” answered Sherri firmly. “This is it.”
“Good,” sighed Todd. “I was starting to wonder...”
“Wonder what?” asked Sherri with a broad smile beneath shining blue eyes and glowing blond hair. “You've been asking 'is this it?' 'is this it?' for the past ten miles. I told exactly what the turnoff that leads to the farm home looks like.”
“I don't know. They all look the same to me.”
Sherri twisted in her seat belt in the passenger seat. She playfully punched Todd in the arm and continued, “Oh you. Even you know the difference between corn and pasture.”
“It all looks green and brown to me,” said Todd. “You know me, city boy all the way. The biggest pasture I've ever seen was the quadrangle at school.”
Todd's statement was met only by giggles and then other noises of glee that he had never heard from Sherri. She lowered here window and hung her head out like a golden retriever.
“Smell that!” she exclaimed. “Can you smell that?”
“Smell what?”
“What? Todd, you know what. Can't you just smell the farmland? Isn't this wonderful?”
Todd turned his gaze towards Sherri, but kept one eye on the narrowing blacktop in front of him. He furrowed his brow slightly. “She has gone on for months about how relieved she was to get away from the farm, go to college, live in the city, work on her on,” thought Todd.
“Sherri,” he started. “Didn't you tell me...”
Sherri fell back into the car, bounced on her seat, and turned to Todd – all in one quick motion. “Didn't I tell you what?” She beamed with enthusiasm. Her face had turned red from the sun, wind, and something that Todd couldn't identify.
“Nothing,” was all that Todd could say.
“Oh Todd,” started Sherri. “You will love my family. You will love the farm home. You will love everything about it.”
“Okay Sherri. I'm sure I will love this visit here. I am looking forward to the contrast to what we do in the city.”
Sherri turned towards Todd again, this time undoing her seat belt completely. She grabbed Todd's arm with both hands. “This is a wonderful life here Todd. So full, so healthy. So, well you know. And mom and dad will love you. I just know they will. Almost as much as I do.”
* * * * * * *
“Abba, Vater, Himmel, Amen.”
Everyone opened their eyes, raised there heads, and put their napkins in their laps.
“That is German, isn't it ?” asked Todd.
“Yes, Todd,” answered Jonas Reiman. “We are German from many generations back. Our family first came to America...”
“Daddy,” cut Sherri. “Stop all that German family generations talk. We'll have lots of time to go through the old stories of the families and struggles and great depression and world war two and all that. Please don't go into it now. Todd doesn't need all that boring stuff yet.”
“Sherri,” chided her father, “you would be well served to learn these things to pass along in the right time.”
“Dad, I've heard those stories so many times I can recite them in my sleep.”
“I've never heard any of them from you,” said Todd with a grin, daring Sherri to start into them.
Sherri elbowed Todd and stared him into quiet. “I haven't told you because I didn't want to bore you to death.”
“Yes, let's talk about something we all haven't heard many times before,” said Margaret Reiman. “I would like to hear about Todd, something that Sherri hasn't told me on the phone already, if there is such a thing. She has told me many things about you Todd, hours worth about you on the phone.”
Sherri turned her be-quiet-you-are-embarrassing-me stare towards her mother. “Todd has lots to tell you about himself. Don't you Todd?”
Todd blushed a moment, but began, “Well, there isn't that much to tell. I grew up in an apartment in the city with my parents and younger brother. I went to college locally, and got a job with a friend's company. That's where I met your daughter, at the company.”
“Oh Todd's so modest mom. He's a genius, everyone calls him the 'tech guru.' If it wasn't for him I wouldn't have a product to sell, none of us would. That company would be bankrupt and everyone there knows it. You should just see him.”
Todd would have said something, but he had a mouthful of ham and mashed potatoes. He grinned, put his knife and work down, and placed one hand on Sherri's shoulder to stop her description of him while he grabbed his napkin with the other hand. He dabbed his mouth as he tried to swallow quickly enough to interrupt Sherri.
It was at this moment that thoughts flashed through Todd's mind. “What is this? Is Norman Rockwell in here somewhere with his pallet and canvas? We have a baked ham, baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls, fruit salad, iced tea. What else? Oh yeah, the linen table cloth and napkins that are only used on special occasions. I am sitting next to a gushing young woman, and she is gushing to her parents about me! She never acted this way at parties in the city. What is happening here?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Reiman, Sherri exaggerates a bit. I do the engineering at the company, but really, they wouldn't miss a beat without me..”
“Oh,” said Margaret Reiman, “maybe you both exaggerate a little. I am sure you both are important to that place. Goodness knows Sherri works enough hours there and all. I'm just so happy that she found a place to fit in there in the city and all. And then to meet such a nice young man like you there. I am just so happy for her, for the two of you.”
Todd's breathing slowed. “Are these people marrying me? I know I was going to get some of this on this meet-the-parents-back-home trip, but really. Someone rescue me here. Can I get a bolt of lightning or something?”
As if one cue, or at least to fit Todd's wishes, a door slammed in the back of the house. In a moment, the door to the kitchen swung open and a tall, blond teenage boy walked into the dining room wearing dirty, faded blue jeans and a denim shirt that was missing several buttons and had the sleeves torn off.
“Hey, this smells good,” said John Reiman as he sat in the one empty chair at the table.
“John,” said Mrs. Reiman. “Sherri is home. Can't you see? And this young man is Todd Blackman. He came with Sherri. You know, I told you they would be here a few days.”
John continued grabbing serving plates and pushing mountains of food onto his plate. He slowed only a moment to glance across at Sherri and Todd.
“Oh, hey sis. Hi...Todd.”
Todd sat quietly for a moment. He expected Sherri to jump up and hug her brother or something like that. Isn't that what happened in Norman Rockwell paintings? Nothing happened. The family paused and then continued the “oh isn't Todd wonderful” and the “it's great to be home again” and other such chatter.
In the middle of this, Mr. Reiman looked sternly at John and asked, “Did you finish the chores I gave you?”
“Sure dad. No problem. The hitch on the tractor was a little loose so I had to tighten a few things. That's why I was a little late for supper. That hitch as some basic flaws in its design. I don't understand the constraints they had when they built it. They usually do a much better job at balancing the loads. If I had the tools I could...”
“John is quite a mechanic,” said Mrs. Reiman.
“Really?” asked Todd, then he thought “Really? Is that all I could say? Come on Todd, do better than that”
“Oh yes. He may go to college to be an engineer.”
“Mechanic,” said Mr. Reiman. “Being a good mechanic is a good skill for a farmer to have. Yes, a good mechanic helps make a good farmer.”
“Are you going to continue the farm?” asked Todd.
John's eyes darted to his parents and back to Todd. The movement was sudden and almost hidden by John's hand scratching his nose. Todd noticed the look, but didn't notice anyone else noticing it.
“Yeah, sure, I suppose,” was John's answer.
* * * * * * *
“Mom, we're out here on the porch.”
Sherri was standing half in the living room and half out on the front porch. She leaned out to the porch, but leaned back in and called, “Mom, are you sure you don't want us to help with the kitchen?”
Todd, sitting a few paces away on a porch swing, heard a voice from inside the house. He didn't understand it, but guessed the answer was “no” as Sherri shouted, “Okay, let us know if you change your mind.”
With that, Sherri turned to Todd, straightened her arms to form a stiff triangle in front of her, smiled, and walked over to the swing. Todd closed his eyes, half from fatigue and half to relax. He felt Sherri sit and curl up against him. He kept his eyes closed so he could better see the two of them on the couch in his apartment. Better yet, he could see the two of them on the couch at work. That was a night nine months earlier. They had both worked to midnight and awkwardly met in the break room. Somehow, they found one another on that couch and had been together since.
“So,” said Sherri.
“So, what?”
“What do you think? What do you think of the farm home?”
“Well,” said Todd as he opened his eyes. “I've seen the front yard, the porch, a bedroom, and a table with enough food on it to feed 50. I don't really know much about the farm yet. Ask me tomorrow. Apologize for me at breakfast. I think I'll sleep in, go for a jog, and then you can walk me around the farm. Ask me then.”
“Go for a jog?” laughed Sherri. “No one jogs for exercise on a farm. That is what farm work is for.”
Todd sighed and closed his eyes. “I'm tired Sherri. Your parents will understand.”
Todd was tired. He worked to midnight the night before and slept on the floor of his office. He was up at seven and worked till noon. Then he drove the three-plus hours to the “farm home” to meet Sherri's family.
Todd sat motionless and felt Sherri's frame expand and contract with each breath. He felt her heart beating. He was relaxed. Maybe there was something to country living – or at least to visiting the country and leaving work behind. Todd fell asleep.
Todd jerked awake. A vehicle had skidded to a stop in the gravel driveway. A door slammed shut. These were followed by a shout, “Hooo-Weee! Sherri girl! What ya doing?”
“Henry!” shouted Sherri.
Todd's eyes jumped open. He felt Sherri pull away from him, sit up, and wave exuberantly.
“Henry,” stammered Todd. “What? Who is Henry?”
“Oh,” said Sherri. “Henry Schultz, an old friend from high school. He works for my dad.”
Henry ran across the driveway, bounded up the steps, and landed solidly on the porch. Sherri stood and walked over to Henry who then grabbed her by the waist, lifted her above his shoulders, and twirled around several times. Henry wore what seemed to Todd to be the uniform of the farm home – dirty faded jeans, shirt with sleeves torn – not cut – off, and large muscles on the arms. Todd rose, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and attempted to exude some sort of bravado in his stance. He knew it wasn't working.
Sherri squealed, giggle, and managed to say, “Henry Schultz, you put me down. Come over here and meet Todd.”
To Todd's surprise, Henry followed Sherri's instructions. He approached Todd, extended his hand, and said, “Todd. Good to meet you Todd. I am glad to see Sherri hooking up with a good fellow like yourself. Congratulations.”
“What,” thought Todd, “is he congratulating me about? What is this place? How far from earth did we travel?”
Todd felt Henry's strength in a firm handshake and a hard slap on the arm. He then felt Sherri stand close to his side while she slid her arm around him.
“That is some reassurance.”
“Henry,” came a call from inside the house. Mr. Reiman opened the door and came out onto the porch. “Henry, about time you showed up.”
Henry walked over to Mr. Reiman, the two shook hands, and huddled quietly. Henry turned towards Todd and Sherri, said “See you two in the morning” bounced back to a large truck, and drove away.
“Well, maybe he is okay,” thought Todd.
“What are you two doing tomorrow daddy?”
“Sherri, we are all working hay tomorrow, and if we are lucky the next couple of days after that. Breakfast is at four in the morning. You two turn in early so you will be ready.”
“Mist...” started Todd, but he was stopped by a pinch he felt on his side.
“Okay dad, we'll be down by four.”
“Oh, and your mother put some work clothes in Todd's room for him, gloves, hat, and all.”
“Thank you dad, and thank mom too.”
Todd gulped, rubbed his side where Sherri had pinched him, and said, “Sherri, Four AM? Sherri, I am bushed. I worked 18 of the last 24 hours and drove out here. I need...”
Sherri had moved in front of Todd and looked up at him with her glistening blue eyes. “Todd, you don't want to embarrass me in front of my family. Do you?”
* * * * * * *
Todd limped slowly. His feet bled as the work boots the Reiman's loaned him didn't fit. His hands, even protected by gloves, were blistered and peeling. His shoulders, back, arms, hips, legs – did he miss anything on this trip around the muscular system – they all ached. He had been throwing bails of hay, 100-pound sacks of feed, and shovels full of manure for three 16-hour days.
“Got to work while there is light,” muttered Todd. “That's just the way we do it on the farm home,” he said in a high-pitched voice trying to imitate what Sherri told him each evening.
Todd moved as quietly as he could, hugging close to the side of the main barn. He had slipped into the shadow and was hiding from Mr. Reiman and Henry Schultz. Todd saw a small shed behind the barn, but still in its cool shade. He headed for the shed as it looked like a good hiding place.
“Maybe he is okay,” thought Todd. “Was I ever wrong about Henry. Just out of sight of Sherri, good old high school boyfriend Henry turned evil. 'Come on city boy. Come on pretty boy. Come on, don't be a sissy boy you boy.'”
Such was good old Henry when Sherri wasn't around. When she appeared with water or lunch he turned into a magnanimous gentleman. Henry complimented her on the fine gentleman she had met in the city. Henry complimented her on how city living had made her into a beautiful woman. Henry complimented her on the delicious water she brought. Henry complimented her on everything.
“Henry is making me sick,” said Todd as he ducked into the dark of the shed.
Todd stopped with a jump. Something was in the shed and moving quickly. Several objects fell from the walls with a clank.
“Whoa! Who? What?” shouted Todd, then he caught himself and tried to be as quiet as he could. “Easy Todd,” he thought. “Don't let Henry know where you are.”
Todd's eyes adjusted to the dark and caught up with the frantic motion in the shed. It was a person shoving things about. It was John.
Todd breathed slowly in relief and slumped to the hay-covered dirt floor and leaned against the wall. “Oh, it's you John. You scared me.”
“Well, you scared me too Mr. Blackman.”
“Please John, call me Todd. Do you have anything to drink?”
“Yeah, sure,” said John as he handed Todd a half-empty bottle of Coke.
Todd took the Coke, drank half of what was remaining. “It is cool in here in the shade. And dark enough so that anyone walking by won't see what is in here. This is a good place to hide. Hey, John, what are you doing in here?”
“Nothing. Same thing you are.”
Todd slumped and breathed slowly for a few moments. He noticed that John had pushed something under an old blanked he was sitting on. “John, what are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“John, what are you hiding?” Todd paused. “Weed, marijuana? No, you wouldn't an entire shed to hide that. What do you have, Playboys? Come on, show me the Playboys, I could use a look at that.”
“No, nothing.”
“John, I'm not your parents and I'm not even your sister. What do you have?”
John didn't answer, so Todd crawled over to John, each inch an ache. John lifted the blanket and pushed the hay aside. He found a few spiral notebooks, pens, and hardback books.
“What is this? Move over, let me see.”
John moved a few feet and revealed several three-foot high stacks of books. Todd picked up one book, turned it sideways towards the light of the door and made out the words “COUNTY LIBRARY.”
“You're,” started Todd speaking slowly and hesitating between each word, “hiding...books...library...books.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe nothing. Hey isn't there a limit on how many books you can check out of the library at a time? You have...several dozen.”
John relaxed, “Yeah. There is a limit if you check them out at the front desk. There are ways around the limit if you know what you're doing.”
“And you know what you are doing.”
“Sure.”
Todd shuffled the books about, squinting to read the titles in the dark of the shed. Literature, engineering, art, music, architecture. “This is pretty heavy stuff. No Hardy Boys.”
Todd then noticed a pile of spiral notebooks. They were full of writing and drawing. Sketches, diagrams – perfect diagrams, like people used to draw on drawing tables, but John didn't have a drawing table. The notebooks had page after page of essays, stories, and a poem or two. They were all printed precisely. The notebooks were works of art.
“You do these out here? Your dad complains that you are always late on the chores he gives you. This is why. You come here.”
“Wow, who are you, Einstein?” blurted John.
“Sherri is pretty sharp. I can see that in her, so I guess this shouldn't be a big surprise. But why out here?”
“Because, Einstein, I'm a guy. Sherri's a girl – I think even you noticed that one. She had an excuse to escape. Girls aren't worth much on a farm. They can't continue the family tradition. I can. I have to. There is no escape for me.”
“And if your parents saw that you loved this stuff, they...”
“Would take it away from me, right,” finished John.
“So,” said Todd, “the Norman Rockwell painting has something to hide.”
“Right, Charles Wysocki wouldn't paint this one.”
“Who?” asked Todd.
“Charles Wysocki. American painter, born 1928, studied at the Art Center School of Design in Los Angeles. You know?”
“No I don't know, but I'll take your word for it.”
Todd leaned back against the wall of the shed and rested. “You were kidding when you said there was no escape for you. Right? I mean, you can leave when you graduate high school next year. Right?”
“Wrong Todd. The best I can do is turn out like muscle-head Henry. Go to trade school and learn welding or electrical wiring or engine repair. Work the farm, marry a farm girl – one who is too homely to get a job in the city and hook up with a city boy – the whole bit.”
“Go to college. Sherri did.”
“Yeah,” said John. “She's the girl. The family's education money all went to her. My education money is the 'farm home.' Do you expect them to sell off a few acres of dirt so I can have a life too?”
“What? That's...”
“Right Todd. It is.”
“John, I know some people at State U. Our company has started funding several scholarships. I can get you in. From the looks of this stuff, you are a good investment. You'll get a scholarship.”
John sat forward. The sarcasm was washed off his face by hope. Then he slumped back. “Sure. You do that and you kiss mom and dad goodbye. And you will kiss Sherri goodbye, too.”
“What? Sherri? She would be happy to see you go to college, move away, have a life.”
“Wrong Einstein. As long as I am trapped here to work this place she has somewhere to take her city husband and kids. Someplace to reminisce about life on the farm. The farm home is wonderful to visit. I pity the person who takes away Sherri's place to visit.”
“John, I don't know about including Sherri in on this.”
“Suit yourself. You mean to tell me that they way she's acted here is the way she acts in the city? I thought city people would institutionalize anyone who acted that giddy all the time.”
“Well,” replied Todd, “I have seen a side of her here at the farm home that I didn't see before.”
“I hope you like that side because you're in for lots more of it with Henry hanging around you.”
“Henry, that guy. I'd be okay if I never saw him again. What's the deal with him. Why is he here. I hope your dad pays him well.”
“What? Dad doesn't pay Henry – not in money.”
“Then,” asked Todd, “why is he here. Why does he work so hard here?”
“He's Plan B. You Todd are Plan A. Sherri went to college for her MRS degree, but she didn't get one. So she went to work trying to earn an MRS there. My parents keep Henry around in case that doesn't work out in the next year or two. Sherri would come back, marry the muscle head, and they would partner with me to continue the family tradition. It's all worked out Todd. Don't you see it?”
Todd sat back and thought. He rubbed his hands on his sweaty, dirty forehead. The kid had a point with all this. But the kid was smart, maybe too smart. Maybe the kid was manipulating him. Sherri was acting goofy. Henry was a mean bastard. Mr. Reiman was working me hard – too hard for a guest. This was all too much to consider. Todd just wanted to sleep.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” asked John.
“What? What did I say?
“About college. About contacting some people. I aced the SAT a couple of months ago. My parents don't even know I took it, but I aced it - 98th percentile and all that.”
“Yes. I meant that. If you scored as you claimed it will be easy.”
“Thanks. I mean it, thanks Todd.”
The two sat quietly for a few moments catching their breath. Then they both stood and walked out into the sun to return to work. They could only hide so long. They walked silently until they saw Mr. Reiman and Henry coming their way on a tractor pulling a wagon full of hay bales.
“Have you ever seen what happens when an oxygen bottle explodes?” asked John.
“Oxygen? What?”
“An oxygen bottle, like the one muscle head Henry has in his torch welder?”
“You're not thinking of...people would know...”
“People wouldn't know anything,” said John. “I've never touched a torch welder. That is the truth. Maybe I've read about them, but no one can prove that as I'm not on record for checking out any books in the library on them.”
“John, watch yourself. Henry's a bastard, but he doesn't deserve that.”
“Deserve what? I just asked you a question. Have you ever seen what happens when an oxygen bottle explodes?”
* * * * * * *
It was 3AM, and Todd was the only one awake in the farm home. He was packed and walking silently through the house. He left a note under John's door with contact information for him and several people in a scholarship program he knew.
Next he went to Sherri's bedroom. He slipped a note under her door as well. It read:
Sherri,
I am going back to the city where my job and my life are. This has been an interesting visit. Thank your mother for her kindness and the good food.
Todd
Todd walked downstairs and drove away into the dark of the morning.
* * * * * * *
SIX YEARS LATER
Todd sat in a corner of his loft apartment. In front of him were three computer screens perched on an oak table. A large computer hummed quietly near his feet. Emblazoned across one screen was the logo of BlackRye Designs. The second screen contained computer generated sketches of an apartment building. Todd's attention was focused on the third screen. It held parts of the day's news.
A slamming door pulled Todd's attention from the screens.
“Hey, you up there?” shouted John Reiman.
“Yeah, sure.”
John jogged up the open staircase to where Todd was sitting. John tossed a backpack on a couch and fell onto the couch himself.
“Quite a week,” said John.
“Yes it was. A good conference. Our presentations went well and I think we made several good contacts.”
“You made some good business contacts. I made some good technical and social ones.”
“Yes. I ran into some people who arranged finances for my last company. They really helped me start. They were happy to talk as their investments in that paid them well. I was sort of sad to sell that company, but I was tired of it and the money I was offered was good. The mistake I made with that was I had to work too much to keep it running. Never again. That's what is different about BlackRye. We do the designs and sell variations of them. One design, one hundred sales. We work a few days a week and collect the checks the rest of the time.”
“Yeah,” said John. “You wish.”
“No John, its not a wish. I tried it before I sold the last company. It works. You know it works; the investors know it works. They want in, but we don't need them. We will keep all the money on this one.”
“Well,” said John. “I'm tired. We went 20 hours a day at that conference. Being with people every minute. That wears on me, all those people around all the time.”
“Yes, me too. But we had some good company some of the time. The ladies were nice. Hey, let's get out of here. Down to the corner for some breakfast.”
“Sounds good Todd, let's go.”
The two left everything in the room as it was and walked down to the street. They walked quickly down the sidewalk and entered a small cafe on the corner.
Back in the office, in the corner of the third computer screen was a short article:
Local News: One Dead, Three Injured in Construction Accident
Henry Schultz, 29, died in a construction accident when an oxygen bottle he was using in a torch-welding system exploded. Three other construction workers were injured, but were released from the hospital a few hours later. The accident is under investigation.
Go to Dwayne's Home Page
Email me at
d.phillips@computer.org