Farm Boy (6 page)

A couple of hours later and the tractor engine was in bits and Harry Medlicott was bending over, his head inside the tractor his great fat bottom in the air and I was happy as a lark. Father was plodding on behind the horses and I was counting every furrow.

He had done thirty five furrows by now but I could see he was tiring with every one. Mother and me stood side by side and cheered him at every turn till our throats were raw with it. I knew and she knew and everyone knew that maybe just maybe a miracle might happen. Father knew it too.

He could see well enough for himself what was going on and he was giving Mother and me a bigger smile each time he came back towards us to turn. The sweat was pouring off him and I could see there was pain in his face now too. Time and again he staggered and stumbled to his knees. He had to call the horses to a stop and every time he fell he was slower getting to his feet again. He had done forty eight furrows by now as many as the tractor. All he had to do was keep going.

We had almost forgotten about the tractor. We shouldnt have. I looked across the field. It was together again. Harry Medlicott was waving everyone back and spitting on his hands. He tried the handle. The beggar started first time. He clambered in and roared off up the field catching Father with every second. When he passed him a great groan went up from all over except for his little band of cronies but I tell you that groan werent nothing compared with the groan inside me. I was sick to my stomach. Harry Medlicott would win now. Nothing could stop him. We were done for and we all knew it.

That was when Father went down on his knees in the middle of the field and couldn’t seem to get up. Mother ran to him and I went with her. He was looking up at her trying to catch his breath.

Legs wont take me no further Maisie he says. And then his eyes were looking straight at me. You finish it for me says he. Let the horses do the work. You just keep em straight. You seen me doing it times havent you. You can do it.

Thats how I found myself following the plough that afternoon behind Joey and Zoey. We werent going to win but we werent going to give up neither. You shouldve heard the noise that crowd made. Filled my legs with strength of a growed man it did. I never thought I would manage the turns but like Father said the horses did it all. I just did what I had seen him do and followed the horses.

I was coming back towards the crowd when I saw it happen. Harry Medlicott was turning fast on the headlands as he always did but this time it were too fast even for him. The tractor never hardly slowed down like he should. He just keeled it over in the ditch and leant up against the hedge with his ploughs ploughing nothing but air and his great muddy wheels spinning round and round. It were a handsome sight that. A sight for sore eyes. The engine choked and stopped and then there was a lot of smoke. When it cleared I could see Harry Medlicott jumping up and down. Like a mad thing he was. Well you can imagine the crowd was wild with it all by now and cheering me on. I ploughed on and on. Up and round and down and round and up and round and down and round. I kept my eye all I could on my line. I knew I had to keep my furrows straight. I hadnt to take my eye off them. But from time to time I had to sneak a look at the tractor to be sure he was still there in the ditch where I wanted him to be and every time I looked he was.

And all the time I was making up the lost ground. I called out to Joey and Zoey just like Father did. I was showing off a bit I reckon. They two horses knew what was going on without me saying a word. They were pulling faster and faster never a foot wrong and together like one horse with eight legs.

By the time old Farmer Northley at last waved his flag for the end of the match I was so tired I could hardly stand. When he counted up the furrows Harry Medlicott had ploughed sixty and we had done sixty one. All of them good deep straight furrows just like they should be. We had won.

To be fair to Harry Medlicott he came right over and shook Father by the hand and me too. Said I was a good lad and ruffled my hair with his oily hand.

Well then Corporal says Harry Medlicott to Father. You won fair and square. Its your tractor if you can pull it out of the ditch.

And by that evening with the help of a dozen or more men we pulled the Fordson back onto his wheels. We couldn’t start him though so we hitched him up to Joey and Zoey and between them they pulled him all the way across Burrow Brimclose and into the barn. They enjoyed that I reckon. So the Fordson was ours for ever and Joey and Zoey never had to plough again.

Joey lived on long after dear old Zoey till he was near enough thirty. He had ten good years of retirement most of it up in the orchard. Loved his apples did Joey. Looked well on them too.