Shelf Life (Crestlane County Series) by Lawton Stephanie

Author:Lawton, Stephanie [Lawton, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-11-28T23:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty-four

“Rise and shine, son.”

As soon as summer classes end, Dad makes me his personal farm bitch. I’ve got two weeks until fall ones begin so until then, his wish is my command.

“I’m awake. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I’ve got my T-shirt halfway over my head when I stumble into the kitchen. Coffee smells strong, perfect. Mom, still in her bathrobe, shoves a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. I eat it without tasting. When we’re in full-on harvest mode, it’s fuel. Nothing more. Fresh cream goes into my coffee and I knock it back in a long series of gulps. The fog in my head begins to clear.

Truth be told, I don’t mind working with Dad, but hell will freeze over twice before I admit it. After all the research, note-taking and typing I’ve done this summer, a little mindless physical labor sounds good. Plus, there are the daily dunks in the creek. Mom’s been cooking up a storm keeping up with us, and it gives me a chance to think without people chattering in my ear all the time about what campus party they’re going to, who’s going to be there, under what scientific classification does the platypus belong, and what was the reasoning behind Executive Order No. 6102? Explain the ramifications citing at least three specific examples.

Today we’re harvesting the sweet corn. All of it. It’ll be hot and brutal, but at the end of the day I get to stuff myself with buttery, salty corn on the cob until I get the shits. For now, I’ll slap on sunscreen, a hat, and hope I don’t die.

Dad and I hop in the pick-up truck and back it next to the corn field. We work one row at a time, each starting on opposite ends. When our bushel baskets get full, we dump the contents into the truck bed, and when we meet in the middle, Dad insists on a water break.

“You’re no good to me if you’re passed out on the ground,” he says.

The thick green stalks stand tall and sturdy, smelling of sunshine and that green scent only plants emit. A good foot taller than my six feet, each stalk has about two or three ears on it. They snap with a flick of the wrist and soon my arms and basket are loaded down. The corn goes into the truck and I’m ready for more.

The past few years, Lindsey and Lewis helped pick and husk the corn and their absence is the white elephant in the field. I remember one year when we were about ten and eleven, Lewis was so busy working that he wandered off from the rest of us, happily plucking along. Lindsey had grabbed my hand and we ran through the rows that way, her leading and me following. Back then, I’d follow her anywhere. We heard Lewis crying and made our way back. He had dirt smudged on his face and knees where he’d fallen.

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