Linked Through Time (8 page)

The night stayed silent. The chirp of crickets and songs from the frogs had quieted to an ominous silence.

I inched forward. A low click sounded to my right and I raised my arms into the air. I cringed, waiting for the boom of the gun to sound, knowing full well that by the time I heard the explosion, I would be on my way to dying.

Chapter Seven

Change of Heart

“What are you doing out here?”

Anger emanated from the voice, a voice I recognized belonged to Bobby. My knees quaked and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Turning slowly, I found only one silhouette in the darkness.
Thank you, God, for letting Bobby be alone.

“I said, what are you doing out here? I almost shot you!” Bobby’s voice was shaking. He still hadn’t lowered the gun; he looked like one of those little green plastic soldiers Corey used to play war.

I stood quiet, afraid that if I moved too quickly, the gun might go off by accident.

Finally, Bobby lowered the gun. “I thought you were a bear,” he muttered, rubbing his hand wearily over his face. He looked at me. “You’re lucky Rodney took the other field. He shoots first, then checks.”

I blanched, feeling the blood leave my face. I was lucky to be standing here, alive. “I….I…” I stuttered, having do idea what to say. I couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation for me to be out in the fields this late at night.

“Is this about Dad whippin’ you?” Bobby asked, making it sound like an accusation.

I shook my head. “It’s complicated,” was all I could say in response, but the welts on my backside flared up in pain.

For a while, we stared at each other, both wanting the other to understand without actually saying any words.

Bobby threw his gun over his shoulder. “Let me show you something,” he said, leading me across the field to a narrow gravel road.

Meekly, I followed in his wake, trudging the same path I would have chosen to escape, but only now I walked it more like a prisoner.

We walked for what seemed like at least a mile or two, passing several country roads.

Bobby left the main road and headed through some trees before coming to a stop beside the shadow of a run down, crooked home. It reminded me of something you’d see gracing the pages of a Dr. Seuss picture book - all lopsided and wrong, certainly nothing that looked safe to inhabit.

I spoke up, my voice scratchy and rough from not talking, “What are we doing here?” I hoped Bobby wasn’t planning on leaving me here to find my way back alone. All the bravado I’d saved up to run away had vanished as we walked the dirt roads in the enveloping dark. There was nothing but wilderness for miles around the farmhouse, and it was becoming more and more apparent how ill equipped and naïve I was to survive in the area. Every rustle in the nearby ditches gave me visions of being attacked by wolves or bears. I doubted I could even make the twelve-mile walk to town; I was a gutless city girl.

Bobby’s voice broke into my thoughts. “A few days ago, I was hunting in the back forty. I came across these girls who were looking for berries. They were real skinny, you know, you could see their bones sticking out, and their clothes were torn and worn so thin, they were hanging on by threads. They had bruises and scrapes. I thought they were lost or orphans. I gave them my sandwich and they ate it like a couple of animals.”

Bobby pointed to a smaller building, a rickety shed that stood a short distance from the house. “That shed is where they sleep. I followed them home after I met them. I just wanted to see what happened to them; I’ve never seen them at school. They don’t have any lights, or beds, or anything! Their mom gives them scraps from the table while they stand at the window. They’re treated worse than animals!” Bobby swallowed hard, his voice choking up with emotion. “And the weird part is, they have brothers, too. But the brothers are treated like kings compared to these girls. The mother has it in for them for some reason.” He continued staring at the shack, his mouth twisted with sadness.

“Why are you telling me this?” I said, horrified at all he had shared. Did he want me to do something?

“Because I know what you’re thinking. I know what you were trying to do tonight. It’s no secret, Sarah - you’ve made it plain as day for some time now that you can’t wait to leave the farm life and head for the big city. But your head is big with these ideas and you can’t see what you do have. A family that loves you. A home. Food. You might feel like you have it bad, but it’s nothing when you compare it to these girls here.” He paused to let his words sink in, and I turned my face to the ground.

Right then, I wished for that ground to open up and swallow me whole. I didn’t want any part of this. I didn’t want to see things like this. I just wanted everything back to normal.

“So what can we do?” I said, hoping I could redeem myself in Bobby’s eyes.

“There’s nothing we can do. It’s not our place to step in. A mom’s right to raise her children, is a mom’s right.”

“How can you say that? We could call the cops? Or social services? We can’t leave them out here, getting treated like a bunch of dogs! They could die out here and no one would even know!” My voice rose and heat rushed up my neck. The thought that the girls lying in the rickety old shed could die and no one would know, let alone, care, shocked and scared me to the core.

Bobby placed his arm around my shoulders, pulled me close, and led me from the clearing back to the gravel road. “I needed you to see, is all. I needed you to feel for someone else, besides yourself,” he said in a soft voice.

The words cut into my heart like a knife. Everything he said was true. Regardless of if I played the part of my Aunt Sarah or not, I still only looked out for me. What I wanted. What I thought was fair.

“It’s just… complicated,” I said lamely. “I wanted to get away for a while. Take a break. I haven’t been feeling the same since the accident.” I stopped in mid-step, wondering if I could share the truth with Bobby. Would he believe me? Or write me off as a lunatic, full of excuses?

“You may need a break, but everyone needs a break. You don’t think I don’t look forward to graduating sometimes? There’s days I can’t wait to join the military - get out and see the world. There’s nothing they could do to me there that would be half as bad as the work we do every day on the farm.” Bobby stared at the stars as he walked, his eyes far away, dreaming of his future. “Still, Sarah, we all have a purpose, a job…. the farm couldn’t function right if a piece was missing. Not to mention what you leaving would do to Mom.”

I could only nod and bite my lower lip, aching to hold back my tears of remorse. My heart ached for the girls we left behind and my thoughts turned to dreams of rescuing them and whisking them off into the night.

A bitter laugh escaped my mouth. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even save myself.

The early morning chill had begun to set in; the fields were coated with a thin layer of moisture, and I shivered in my worn flannel shirt.

In the distance, I could see Rodney approach, a long barreled shotgun resting on his shoulder.

“What are you doing out here?” he growled, eyeing me suspiciously.

I searched for the right words to say, but could think of none. The three of us stood in awkward silence.

Bobby coughed. “Sarah heard the dog bark and came out to see what was going on. I ran into her on the backfield and brought her with me. I didn’t want you shooting her by accident.”

Rodney laughed. “Probably thought it was Dave making one of his little midnight visits.”

My eyebrows shot up, my mouth opened to defend my honor. “I was not…”

“Don’t bother denying it,” Rodney interrupted. “We both know where you go some nights. Just be glad I haven’t told Dad or you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.”

I hung my head and turned to the farmhouse. I couldn’t argue with Rodney; I had no idea what Sarah’s reputation had been before I came along, but it still hurt to know what they thought of her.

Once inside, the three of us separated to our rooms. Easing myself back into bed so as not to wake Louise and Janice, I lay stiff as a board, thinking of the night’s events.

The more I thought about Sarah, the more I understood her and her life. Again, I entertained the thought that maybe her death at the rapids wasn’t an accident. Maybe she was looking for a way to escape all along.

The first light of day touched the sky, sending a muted glow into my bedroom and I heard Bobby and Rodney shuffling around in the room next door. How could I look at them today? A single tear slid down my cheek and dropped to my pillow, spreading in a slow, widening circle of dampness. I prayed silently, hoping for some answers or some sort of sign. Why is this happening to me? Was this all really about changing the future, or punishment for my spiteful behavior? Please help me, God, help me get through the next few months. And please… please let me go home.

I knew I was supposed to wake up and join the boys in the barn, but my legs refused to cooperate. I couldn’t face them, not so soon after last night’s humiliation. I was weary – weary and confused. When would it all make sense?

I closed my eyes as the sun shone brighter. Louise and Janice began to stir, twitching and mumbling in their sleep. Fifteen minutes. I would get up in fifteen minutes.

My eyes felt like someone had stuck sandpaper beneath my lids. I figured I had slept no more than twenty minutes before Louise pulled the pillow from beneath my head and smacked me in the face.

“Get up! Dad says it’s hay day.” Louise pulled on jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

I waited until Louise left the room before sliding out from the covers, fully dressed. I couldn’t decide if I should be thankful for a change from weeding the fields and milking the cows. It was quite possible that “hay day” was much worse than any other chore. I tried to recall my father’s stories about haying. But the only thing that came to mind was the fact that he had never wanted to drive the tractor; you had to be perfect, not drive too close or too far from the bales and if you jerked the trailer and the bales toppled, you had to restack the entire trailer by yourself. I groaned. It was going to be hard enough for me not to get run over by the tractor, let alone haul the enormous bales.

When I entered the kitchen, I was immediately swept into a current of activity. As fast as my grandmother pulled fresh, steaming loaves of bread from the wood stove, they were sliced and slathered with butter and pieces of ham left over from breakfast the day before. Louise filled a large cardboard box with sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, carrots from the garden, kohlrabi, radishes, pickles, and canned beans. Nestled amongst the sandwiches were three jugs of water, proof it would be a long day.

I grabbed a handful of cooling pancakes from the cast iron griddle on the stove and stuffed them in my mouth. Apparently, I had slept longer than twenty minutes, because everyone else was ready to head out the door, and I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Pulling on a pair of work boots, I jumped in surprise when Bobby knelt down beside me and whispered in my ear. “During break, I’m going to take a few sandwiches to those girls. If you want to come….” he trailed off, a hint of secrecy in his voice.

I nodded, relieved he didn’t carry a grudge for long. Rodney, on the other hand, brushed past me without a second glance, making my cheeks flush red with shame. The thick, dry pancakes I had wolfed down in minutes sank heavy into my stomach, making it feel like I had eaten rocks. Dread for the day ahead filled my heart; in Rodney’s eyes, I had failed already.

The morning passed quickly. I struggled through the field, trying not to get swept beneath the trailer. Straining to toss the hay bales to the wooden platform took every ounce of concentration and strength I possessed.

After one round of the field, my arms burned with the effort, and there were probably a couple hundred bales to go.

By the third round, I had to use my knee to get enough leverage to get the bale on the platform and the prickly hay stuck right through the denim of my jeans. It felt like an itchy rash was developing on my upper thigh, and I began to envy Louise and Dean, who rode the trailer and stacked the bales into a rising pyramid.

I spotted Rodney coming up behind me, carrying two bales at a time, and I gritted my teeth in determination. I would show him what I could be, no matter what the cost. I was tired of feeling worthless and cheap in his eyes, and I wanted a second chance.

The bales on the trailer were a teetering, precarious stack when the tractor rolled to a stop. Matthew jumped down from the driver’s seat, his short spindly legs pushing on a block of wood for the pedal, just so he could reach.

“Bring it in,” Rodney ordered.

Bobby, Patrick, and Matthew scrambled up the leaning stack, joining Dean and Louise at the top. I eyed the stack warily, but chose risking a fall from the bales over walking back to the barn. Rodney started the slow drive down the bumpy trail, and I lay back, relishing the break for my weary muscles. My fingers were raw from picking up the bales by the coarse twine and my arms ached from repeatedly lifting the bales above my head. But I did it! A city girl from Florida kept up with the rest of them and I didn’t complain once! A small smile of victory slid onto my face.

“I’m glad that’s over,” I said, grinning at Louise, who sat picking her teeth with a sprig of hay.

Louise rolled onto her stomach, resting her cheek on the hay. “Yep. One field down, two to go.”

We jostled down the dirt lane, clinging to the rocking bales to keep them from spilling over the sides. Now I understood the massive preparation that morning; we wouldn’t be finished until sundown. I swore under my breath, and wiped the gritty sweat from my brow.
So much for my so-called victory.