I discovered my true self in the Mississippi Delta, a region known for its coffee colored soil, known to grow any crop known to man, known mostly for the growing of cotton and a style of music called 'The Blues'. Yes here in this flat region, I found my true self and I've never been the same. Now the chief source of income for many in the delta is farming, the crop of choice is cotton. The planting and harvesting of cotton is labor intensive, requiring dozens of skilled mechanics to service the fleet of machines that pick the cotton, and dozens more field hands to do the other odd jobs that always need to be done around the farm.

In the Mississippi Delta there three classes of people, at the top of the food chain you have the landowners, the people who own massive tracts of farmland, in the middle you have the overseers who oversee the daily operation of the farm and the mechanics who service the machines, and at the bottom you have the field hand's. The merchants of the delta, owners of small service stations and dry good stores, do not count as part of the social system. They are a class unto themselves.

Now, last summer, the summer of two thousand twenty two my father sent me into the Delta to learn the value of a dollar and to 'Toughen' me up. His cousin owned a farm and was in need of help. His cousin, my uncle lived in the small delta hamlet of Sharbrough's Landing. A small community of some two thousand soul's located in the heart of the delta. The community had been established by the Sharbrough family in the year eighteen seventy seven. I myself was a Sharbrough.

At first glance the town is really nothing to look at, its population is scattered about, divided between a number of plantations and isolated collections of houses. The town itself may only have around five to six hundred people living within it, but the workers from the surrounding plantations and isolated settlements come into Sharbrough's landing to do their banking business, check the mail, attend church, pay their bills, cash their payroll checks and have a little fun.

I arrived late in the evening, having spent the day traveling aboard the Yazoo and Mississippi Railroad. Now if you look at a map of Mississippi, you will notice it's about sixty something miles from Canton to Sharbrough's Landing. If you drove the posted speed limit it would take you around a little over an hour to get there. If you take the train, you'll be spending all day riding the rails. Why you ask, because if you take the train you'll have to pass through all hell and creation.

Anyway the sun was starting to set beyond the horizon and the moon, half full, was starting to rise. A warm wind seemed to blow across the flat delta plain. And there I stood, on the old wooden platform of the train station that was located at the of town. The station was nothing more than a wooden platform, and a wooden open air shelter with a rusty tin roof. A wooden bench was located inside the shelter. To the right of the station was an old water tower and across from that a pile of coal.

I stood on the platform for a good few minutes. By the time the train steamed away, leaving me alone, nobody had come out to greet me. It seemed, no doubt my uncle was busy hauling in cotton and my aunt was holed up in her studio. Taking a deep breath, I reached down and picked up my tattered brown suitcase, so this is how my adventure begins, standing on a rural train station, holding a tattered suitcase, dressed in a three piece suit that smells like mothballs with only a hundred or so dollars to my name, no phone, no way to connect with my friends on Discord. No way to access my social media accounts. Rolling my shoulders backwards I started to step off the platform. It was then I spotted my aunt, who started to rush toward me.

Her shoulder length blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she wore a pastel pink, flora dress. She rushed toward me and without saying a word she tossed her arms around me and drew me into a warm hug.

“Welcome home Cindy!” She said smiling, then eased her hug and then looked me square in the face. A quick blush colored her cheeks. “OH CASPER!” She said blushing. “I'm sorry.. I just saw the ponytail and you have the same shade of hair as my daughter and your both around the same height..” She blushed a little and tried to laugh off her embarrassment. “Anyway! It's been ages since I've last seen you! You've grown and you've grown your hair out I've seen!”

I blinked and blinked again.

“Yes..” I said looking up at the woman. It took me a minute, but I knew the woman was my aunt, the painter of the bunch, and like most painters she was extremely liberal. A strange counterweight to her very conservative husband, who like most farmers and landowners of the delta region, championed free enterprise, private ownership of land, and socially traditional ideas. The two were as different as apples and oranges, but seemed to be deeply in love and shared a solid bond.

“Looks good on you!” I could tell she was struggling to find words. “I think the last time I saw you was last Christmas.” She said smiling.

“It's been a while sinceI last saw you too, Aunt Cat.” I said returning the a little. “Ya about last Christmas, think that was the last time we saw each other.” I said letting my voice trail a little. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.” I said breaking away from the hug.

“Sure do.” Aunt Cat said with a small smile. “Come on, follow me and I'll fix you something to drink. Sidney hanging around the farm, I'm sure he saw the smoke from the train and he'll be on his way over. You two can talk while I get dinner on the table.” She added. Sidney of course was her husband, the big time delta farmer whom I was to start working for tomorrow. Or maybe even today.

“So.” I said, “How does the painting?” I asked as I picked up my battered suitcase and followed Aunt Cat off the wooden platform. The train had now vanished, having crossed the trestle bridge that spans the Sunflower River. The station was only a stone's throw away from the Sunflower.

“It's going.” Aunt Cat said. “Once the cotton's through growing, I might get Albert and you to help me take some painting down to Vicksburg to sell. Your cousin Dawn might be coming down in a week or so to visit for a while. You know, Dawn a writer too, she published one collection of Japanese ghost stories. I think she collected them when she went to Japan a year or so ago. Melody, another one of your cousins is working on another Melodies of the Heart episodes. I guess.”

I nodded my head. I really had nothing else to say, so instead of saying anything I allowed my eyes to wander around and take in the sights of the place I'll be calling home for the next month. Right now Aunt Cat and I were walking down the section of town that the local's called Main Street. And I could see why they called it.

Let me enlighten you guys a little. According to my Aunt Cat. Main Street Sharbrough's Landing started at Sharbrough's Consolidated School and ended at the railroad tracks. The quarter mile stretch of road included Sharbrough's farm office, two general stores, a post office, a gas station, a small Episcopal Church, a Baptist Church, and a volunteer fire department. And a small government clinic. And oddly enough an ice house. The most impressive building though was a small brick building that was located across from Sharbrough General Store. The building housed the Sharbrough's Landing branch of Bank Plus, a large regional bank.

“So,” Aunt Cat said, smiling as we walked past the small Episcopal Church. “How is Tiffany doing?” She asked. “And how is your mom? I saw that she's on Facebook now and I sent her a friend's request. It's still pending though I sent it yesterday.”

Tiffany was my older sister, she was four years older than me. She and Cindy had been best friends growing up and the two had often ganged up on me when they got together. When Aunt Cat mentioned Facebook, I raised my eyebrow and paused. I knew I had to choose my next few words carefully at this point. You see while I'm on such social media platforms as Instagram, TikTok, and of course Facebook. I've made a point to avoid adding family members. I mostly used social media to keep in touch with my online friends.

“Mom, fine. She is thinking about going back to school. And Tiffany is fine, she really enjoyed Delta State.” I said. “Dad was a little miffed that she decided to go to Delta State instead of Ole Miss. But he's slowly getting over it.” I said grinning “Mom kind of won him over when she pointed out that Delta State is a lot cheaper than Ole Miss.”

My aunt nodded my head.

“Any plans where you want to go after you graduate from High School.” My Aunt Cat asked me.

“Dad pushing Sewanee: The University of the South on me, you know he went there, he pushed for seminary. Since I'm kind of unfit to be a lawyer or so he says. But I don't know. I really hate St. Andrew's.. I hate the people, I hate my classmates, I hate the country club vibe the school gives off. I mean sure they wanted me to get an Episcopal Education.. but I really wish they would send me to St. Katherine's in Vicksburg.”

“Do you know anybody that goes to St. Katherine's?” Aunt Cat Asked.

“Oh this girl in my Discord Group goes there with her little brother and older sister. I think her name is Susan Bell? She is in the eleventh grade. She's pretty cool, she and I voice chat from time to time on Discord.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Aunt Cat asked. She seemed eager to learn more about me, but I wish she'll keep such personal questions to herself.

“No, she is a friend.. a friend who happens to be a girl.” I said, sighing.

I swear I saw a smirk form upon my Aunt Cat face.

“So you're not dating anybody?” She asked as we strolled down the street. Her house was located about a quarter of a mile from the train station. Normally it would have taken about fifteen to twenty minutes to cover the distance on foot, but it was taking a little longer since we were causally shooting the breeze.

“Nope, still signal.” I added.

“You'll find somebody in time.” And that was the last thing she said to me before a peaceful silence fell between us. “You will find somebody in time.” She repeated as he walked up her driveway.
Dinner that night happened to grilled Porterhouse Steaks, with a king sized baked potato on the side with a house salad. The feast had been prepared to celebrate my arrival here. The steak was cooked to perfection, chargrilled on the outside, moist and juicy on the inside. We ate in silence for most of the meal. Then my uncle broke the silence.

“Casper.” He said looking up from his meal. “I want you to know something. Just because you're my nephew. Does not mean I'm going to go easy on you. In fact I'm going to ride you harder than I ride the others.” He said taking a bite of his steak.

“Yes sir.” I said, nodding my head.

“You'll start off at the bottom like everybody else, and if you prove a good help, next summer I might promote you and move you into the office. I heard your good with numbers, your good with computers. Your mom says you got an 'A' in your keyboarding class. She says next year you'll be taking 'Computer Science' and 'Bookkeeping' get an 'A' in those and I'll move you from the field into the office.” He stated as he popped another piece of meat into his mouth.

“Yes sir.” I said, nodding my head.

“I start my field hands at eight dollars a hour. Since you're my nephew I'll pay you straight from the farm account. I won't hold out taxes. You'll get paid straight cash. No overtime though.” He stated again as he popped another piece of meat into his mouth, he swallowed without chewing.

“Yes sir.” I nodded my head again.

“Take my advice. After dinner, hit the shower, and turn in. We work six days a week weather permitting. You'll be off Sunday. You'll also attend services at the family church with us. Sunday mornings are for attending services and bible school. Sunday afternoons you're free to do whatever you please.” He grunted. “We don't work if it rains and you don't get paid for rainy days. Payday is every Friday. Who do you bank with?”

“Bank Plus..” I said my voice trailing a little.

“Friday is half a day so the farmhands can handle their banking business. There is a Bank Plus here in town. You can walk to it from the house.” He paused. “Okay once you're finished, remember to get into the shower, and hit the bedroll. We rise before the rooster crows and we work till the setting of the sun.”

End of Chapter 1