Down on the Farm Ch. 02

The next month passed quickly and it was 2 weeks before the end of school when it happened. My classes had finished for the day and arriving at work, no one was around. Bud was not to be seen and the house was empty. Usually Bud or Edith would give oral instructions or leave a note. The car was gone from the drive. This was out of character, but someone would surely show soon, so I started the chores.

The milking took almost 3 hours but still no one arrived. I continued with the other chores and finished up. Working alone took more time, but with no one around, I was concerned. Something must be wrong. Not knowing, I waited. Not having any indication when someone would show, I busied myself by scrubbing the milk house. An hour later a car, one I didn't recognize, drove in. He exited the vehicle and looked around. I came out the door, still holding a scrub broom. He walked towards me and introduced himself as Bud's brother, Peter. I explained who I was, a student, who'd been working for Bud this past year. The milking and chores were finished and I was waiting.

What Peter said next, sent fear running through me. "Bud's been in an accident. Edith asked me to check on the cows and I know absolutely nothing about them. She hoped you had proceeded with chores and wanted me to make certain."

"What happened? Is Bud going alright?"

"He is in a coma at the hospital and he's in a bad way. I was told he fell from the silo. The family's with him right now. Edith's asked me, if I saw you, to request you do all the chores for the next few days. I certainly don't know what to do"

I was concerned about Bud, and I completely understood the importance of doing the milking on time. Mentally, my class schedule flashes before me and I superimpose the milking times. It would be doable but I'd have to skip some classes. With school almost out, perhaps some Profs would cut me some slack. "Tell Edith I can help."

"Good. Thanks, I'll let 'em know."

He left and I returned to school after putting things away. Tomorrow would start early with the 3am milking.

Next morning the alarm sounded before I wanted to get up. I dragged myself out of bed, dress and head to the farm. Suddenly it hit home. I had the full responsibility for the herd and it was almost overwhelming. I knew how to do the job, but any change in diet, schedule, or routine, could throw any of the cows off production. Moving though the motions brought to mind some of the small details Bud had once shared. The cows were standing at the gate, waiting.

After the milking was finished, I fed from the silo, cleaned out the milking parlor, and washed down the equipment, sterilizing it well. The bulk tank was full so I hoped the milk truck would show today. I finished the chores about 9:30.

Nothing had been heard, and I considered driving to the hospital. Jumping into my car I head into town, grabbed a bite to eat and pulled into the hospital parking lot. At the welcome center I was given Bud's room number and took the elevator. Exiting, I follow the sign to Bud's wing, passing the nurses station. There is a lot of normal activity with one nurse on the phone, a couple others entering data on patient's charts, and a discussion in progress in a back corner. Moving on down the hall, I observed Edith and the girls talking to a doctor.

Drawing closer it was apparent they'd been crying so I stood back, not interrupting. Edith saw me and motioned to me, as the doctor left. Her eyes were red, probably from tears and lack of sleep. She told me Bud was not doing well and remained in a coma; life support was attached. The family knew his condition was extremely serious and the girls were especially distraught. Becky and Sam clung to their mom; Trish sat in one of the chairs nearby, her head in her hands. I later learned hospital staff didn't believe Bud would live through the week; it was only a matter of time.

Edith turned, "Mark thanks for doing the milking; I really appreciate it. Could you ..., would it be possible to help with all the chores? I know this may be difficult, but we need your help now."

Under the circumstances I was glad to help. "Don't worry; I'll take care of everything until Bud gets home." The look in her face told me volumes; Bud wouldn't be coming home for a long, time; maybe not ever. What will they do? I thought. What will they do?

I left the hospital and went back to the school. My classes, for the year, were almost over and two weeks still remained. I went in search of my professors. The first one was in his office and motioned for me to enter when I knocked. I quickly explained the situation and the family's request for my help. The lab classes would have to be missed and I requested some consideration. He looked at his grade book. "Mark, your grades are up and everything is looking fine. What I need is for you to finish the research paper and take the final exam. As far as class attendance, I can let that 'slide' under the circumstances. So if you can get the paper completed and take your final, you should be okay."

I thanked him and went to look for the other Prof. She was also in her office and after I explained the problem her heart went out to the family. "Don't worry about your classes. I completely understand. Plus you've been a good student this semester. I'll take your current work, average it and that'll be your final grade. No need to take the final. How does that sound?"

"Thanks. That sounds great."

"Go on." She said. "Take care of your other things."

I left her office, in search of the other Profs. They were equally understanding; however, to be fair, final exams were required.

A lot of time would be spent at the farm, so chose to move there. It would be easier to travel back and forth for classes. The cot in the basement would suffice for now. I hadn't talked to Edith, but was certain she wouldn't mind. Living at the house I would still have time to complete class assignments. Packing everything, I moved to the farm.

No one was around, as expected and I carried my stuff downstairs. It wasn't a finished basement and the stairs descended from the back door into the middle of the floor. To the right was the laundry area, an open shower and toilet. To the left of the stairs I found a clutter of boxes, book shelves, and general items. At the bottom of the steps and towards the back was a couch, table and chair, and a lamp. The cot was to the right, at the far end of the basement. There were no dividers, only one large open area. The family did have some food storage between the cot and the laundry. A little re-arrangement would afford a modicum of privacy for the immediate time. Dragging my suitcase and boxes towards the cot, I arranged things to my satisfaction. Glancing at my watch, it was time to do chores, so I changed clothes and headed outside.

In the barn, I see the milk truck had arrived, the bulk tank was empty. It needed scrubbed and sterilized, not a difficult job, but it required attention. The milking went smoothly. Some additional time was spent checking each cow and heifers. With everything in order, I head back inside and rummage around for something to eat. I raided the refrigerator for leftovers. Supper over, I worked on the project report for school. I finished it, but my mind was not concentrating; I kept thinking about Bud and the family. Picking up the phone I dialed the hospital and asked information on Bud's condition. He had passed away earlier that day. The family was staying with friends in town and I was given a phone number. Devastation flooded over me and my mind becomes numb. I chose not to dial.

Bud was like a father to me. Edith and the girls, well, they're like a second family. What's going to happen now? Bed time comes and I sleep fitfully.

The morning came early when the alarm went off, but I'm already awake. I dressed and began the day doing the milking and regular morning chores. At 9 o'clock or so, I saw Peter, Edith and the girls had arrived. Standing back, I talked with Peter. I let him know I was available to help, not to intrude. Arrangements for the funeral were being made and would be held in a couple days. More family, friends and relatives would be arriving between now and then. I would stay out of the way but if they needed help, let me know. He thanked me and went into the house. I went to the basement and cleaned up, leaving for my one and only class for the day.

The next several days were pretty much a blur. The routine of the farm was completely upset and I attempted to maintain some continuity for the dairy operation. The funeral was held with a large crush of well-wishers in attendance. I attended. Bud was very well known within the community and the church was filled to overflowing.

Following the services folks returned to their homes, their work and their families. Edith and the girls could only come home to a house, empty of the one they loved and had come to depend upon. My school would be over in two days, it would be necessary to discuss plans with Edith at the earliest opportunity. I would bide my time till events settled a bit, until then I did the milking and stayed out of the way.

"Mark, we need to talk." Edith said as I returned from my last class. "What are your plans for the summer?"

From her tone as she asked, I knew where she was headed with this conversation. "I'd been planning to get a construction job near home." I answered.

"Is there anyway that you could work for us through the summer?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Could you stay, working full time? The girls and I need your help 'cause we can't do it all. I have to make some decisions on whether to keep the dairy operation, sell the farm, or exactly what to do. We need your help to keep things going until I do make a decision. I cannot pay much but will let you stay in the basement and eat meals with us. Really, Mark, we desperately need your help."

Originally my plans were to return home and her request would definitely cut into my earnings. On the other hand, she and the girls would be in trouble if I didn't help. If I didn't earn enough through the summer, I wouldn't be able to finish school. So I decided on a compromise. "How about I work for one month? This should give you a chance to see what you want to do."

There was a flicker of disappointment on her face, but she understood my predicament as well. "Thanks, Mark. That will help."

As she turned to leave, another thought popped into my mind. "Edith?"

She stopped and turned to face me. "How much time do you figure you'll need to determine what to do?"

"Six months, maybe more. Why?"

"And you're not able to go that long without my help. Is that right?"

"That's right." She waited.

"If I agree to help through the summer, could you help me when school starts again this fall?"

A glimmer of hope flashed across her face. "If I can. What do you want?"

"Free room and board. And I'll stay and help as long as you need."

The expression I saw was one of happiness. "Bless you, Mark. May God bless you. Thank you."

Then she saw my face, "But that's not all you want. Is it?"

"I'd come to expect a daily briefing with Bud. Could you talk over the business decisions with me?"

"That can be arranged. AND?" She asked.

"How about some plywood and 2x4's to give me some privacy in the basement?"

She smiled, "No problem, I can do that. I'll also find you a bed to replace that old cot. Thanks, you don't know how much this means. Go ahead and take the pickup into town and get the plywood."

As I turned to leave, she spoke again. "Mark, I don't know how we can repay you for this. Thanks."

I went into town and got the plywood, hinges, and nails then spent the rest of the day hammering in the basement to make a section for a bedroom. It was not pretty, but at least it was functional. Most of the guests and well-wishers had gone and I joined Edith and the girls for supper. The girls were quiet and the time was strained. This was not surprising as they had lost their father. I tried to joke but it fell flat, they smiled, that was all. I helped with the dishes afterwards and the girls did their studying. Their school would be out later that week. I turned in for the night.

A routine was developed; Edith would help with milking each morning milking; in the afternoon, the girls would assist. Becky and Sam took the responsibility for feeding the silage to the herd and hay for the springers. Trish helped with the milking. Afterwards she and I scrubbed the parlor, then sanitized the equipment. Between those hours, I did the general farming, like repairing fences, working on the tractor and the field work. Edith and I knew the barn was nearly empty and we would need to put in the hay. Edith was a good manager and I learned a lot about the farming operation. She agreed, we should start haying next week when the girls were out of school. For the remainder of that day I got out the wagons, converting them into hay racks, greased the bailer and adjusted the tractor wheels. Then I took the hay mower to the field and cut the alfalfa. That afternoon, after the girls were home, I sent Becky with the tractor and rake to make windrows. Now we waited for it to dry.

Monday rolled around and the weather was good. As I finished milking, Edith and the girls set the elevator up next to the mow. I finished up about 9:30 and checked the hay. Not quite dry, so we waited till noon. The plan was for Becky to drive the tractor and bailer. Trish and I would stack the bales on the rack. Sam and Edith would use the pickup to bring in the loaded racks and mow the bales. In spite of the hot weather, long sleeves and gloves were worn to protect our hands and arms from scratches or blisters.

After lunch, we were ready. Becky drove the tractor to the field, Trish and I rode the rack. I teased, saying I liked her 'Sunday clothes'. She retorted, she would 'dress like the pastor, pointing to me. Then the hard work started. Becky pulled into the field and the bails moved up the chute. Trish and I worked hard. This was the first crop of the year and the windrows were thick. Becky often had to stop as the bailer bundled the hay which had entered the machine. In a short time the rack was full. Edith was waiting, hitched to in and drove to the barn where she and Sam unload it. I helped Becky hook up the second rack and we continued.

When riding on the open rack, we would walk like a drunken sailor. Trish had stacked a bale and was turning around when she lost her balance and fell to her knees. "Looks like the ballerina needs more practice".

She looked up at me, laughing and replied, "I can keep my balance, except when my partner steps on my toes." Then she stuck out her tongue.

The work progressed until the field was completed. We had harvested 15 racks, a good day's work. On the last load, Becky didn't unhook but drove to the yard. Edith and Sam had unloaded the previous rack and would start milking while Becky, Trish and I unloaded this last one. Becky unhooked the bailer, connected to the rack, then pulled around to the elevator. I went up into the mow and the girls would unload. I was watching below and what I saw next, I can still visualize; it was like slow motion. Becky had changed to the tractor which ran the PTO. Trish was walking to the rack, when she tripped. Her sleeve caught on the rotating shaft; she could not get free. Becky saw it at the same time and immediately clutched the tractor. The shaft quickly stopped, but not before Trish was completely wrapped around it. Bounding down the elevator, I was yelling at Becky to turn off the tractor, Turn off the tractor. I didn't know whether she heard, but she did have the sense to keep the clutch depressed. At the bottom, I reached over and turned off the ignition, disengaged the PTO and moved to Trish. I could see her face and she cried out in pain. Taking my pocket knife I cut her shirt from the shaft. The material was tough, tightly bound, and the knife seemed useless. By now, Becky was lifting and supporting Trish as I hacked at the cloth. I was frantic. Why wouldn't this knife cut? Becky slipped Trish's other arm from her shirt, relieving the tension, allowing me to slit the remaining cloth and get her free. She lay on the ground, in the dirt and I probed, looking for broken bones. Trish had stopped crying and watched as I prodded. She did have a big red welt on her arm and another around her shoulder.

"Trish, can you move your arm?"

Slowly she raised it, as I offered support. She rotated it, bent it at the elbow, extended it again, and swung in an ever increasing ark. Nothing appeared broken; she had full mobility, and no cuts. A red rash extended from her shoulder and down her arm. No doubt she would have a bad bruise later.

I lifted her up, moved to the wagon hitch and sit down with her on my lap. My mind could not fully comprehend the near calamity. Bud was recently gone, and to loose one of the girls now, especially Trish, would be too much. She wrapped her arms around me, I held her.

Becky, watching, said, "Mark, I'm sorry, I did not mean to..."

"Becky, it is not your fault. You did the right thing. It is not your fault." Then I said to no one in particular, "It is not anyone's fault." I must have been running on adrenalin because I started shaking. At this moment I realized that Trish didn't have any shirt on, only her bra.

"Becky, run to the house and get your sister a shirt."

She went flying and would be back in a few minutes. In the meantime I held on to Trish and stroked her hair. "God Almighty, Trish. You scared me. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Do you hurt anywhere?"

"My shoulder's sore but I think I can use it."

"Do you want to go into the house?"

"No, let's get this rack unloaded."

"Sure? Cause, man, I sure don't want to loose you."

"Yeah, let's get it unloaded."

Becky returned at a sprint with the shirt. Trish stood and dusted herself off and I helped her put it on. By now she was calming down and so was I.

"Are you going to be okay, Trish?" Becky asked.

"Yeah, start the tractor, Becky. I want to finish this load."

The rack was unloaded, but we took our time, not being in any hurry. The last bale was in the mow; we unhooked the equipment and put everything in the shed. It was dark by the time we finished. I had my arms around both Becky and Trish as we walked to the house.

Edith was preparing supper as we walked in. Trish and Becky went back to their room. I quickly gave Edith the details and she turned white. "You're certain she's alright?"

"Trish wanted to finish the last rack and she worked like a trooper. I figure she will be pretty sore with a bad bruise, otherwise, yeah, she'll be fine."

Edith moved back to Trish's room and entered. I left and took a shower. The other girls were probably doing the same thing. I was turning the day's events over in my mind. The scare with Trish had affected me more than I thought. What if something had happened to her? What would I have done? I didn't know. Those events played over and over again like a looped video, each time brought fear to my heart.

A voice hollered down the stairs, it was Edith. "Supper is ready."

I toweled off, got dressed, and climbed the stairs.

Walking towards the table, Edith stopped me. "I'm changing our eating arrangements. You sit at the head of the table."

I frowned. This was Bud's chair and it had remained empty since his death. "No." I shook my head.

"You can either sit there, or go hungry. The other place where you've been sitting has been removed."

"But that's Bud's seat." I protested.

"You are the man in this family. It belongs to you now." She said.

This new seating arrangement placed me at the head of the table and Edith on one side and Trish on the other. Becky and Sam were at the other end. And so I became the man of the family, though it was by default.