Horrible Harvest

Morning come. I woke with my back in a knot and my lungs full of dew. Every time I coughed the knot in my back grew tighter, so tight it felt like it was pulling my ribs toward my crooked spine.

Allison’d been up an hour ‘fore me. She’d explored the property to keep from disturbing me. When she heard me rouse out of my sleep like a bull getting his jimmies snipped, she come wandering over.

“Finally,” she said. “I thought you old cranks always got up at the ass-crack of dawn.”

“Not this old crank,” I said, setting up right. “Where’s the coffee?”

“In your haversack.”

“Why didn’t you fetch it?”

“Because I’ve heard your stories. Ain’t no telling what I’d come across in there. Didn’t want to be a party to a criminal act, should you have something untoward in there.”

“Smoking days is behind me. Stealing days, too.” I worked my way to my feet. “I’ll fetch it.”

“I ain’t drinking no river water coffee.”

“There’s a stream up the way a bit. Running water. Crystal clear.”

She nodded. “So, we have coffee, what then?”

“You get on your mount and ride back to Charleston. I get on mine and get to where I need getting.”

“And that being?”

“That being my business and not yours.”

“Well, I’m not stupid. I know what business you got in mind.”

I grabbed up the haversack. “You think you do.”

“You’re going to see him.”

I looked at her. “You don’t want river water, you best take one of them canteen’s and make your way to the stream. Other side of the old pig pen.”

“No good’ll come from it.”

“I’ll drink the river water. Drunk it more than necessary as a boy. Never kilt me. It’s a bit briny, but tolerable.”

“You ain’t gotta do what you’re set on doing.”

I give a long pause before I said, “It’s the only thing left for me to do. I’ve never had to do something more in my life.”

“Why?”

I looked around the property. “You know I ain’t been back here since the storm.” I fixed a stare on her. “I should tell you what come next. About Mr. Miller’s school.”

She cocked her head to the side. “That ain’t an answer to my question.”

“You’ve already got an answer to your question.” I walked to the fire pit and stoked the embers. “You fetch the water. I’ll fetch some wood. We’ll have coffee. I’ll tell my story, and then we’ll part ways.”

She give consideration to digging at me some more but thought better of it. She grabbed up a canteen and walked toward the pig pen.

I went back to stoking the small flames that give rise out of the dying cinder.