Farming was back breaking work. I was often up before the rooster crowed and kept in the field till the sun set and the moon had risen. The delta is flat, flat as a board and there is nothing in the way to block the sun, all the trees had long been cut down to make way for the farmers to plow. The strong rays of the Mississippian sun blistered me by day and the bone cutting wind froze me by night.
Heat stroke was common among those who worked alongside me, the sun broke us down and the back breaking work made us hollow shells. I stave off heat stroke. I drank water by the gallon. The water tasted horrible, it tasted like mud. It made me sick, sick to my stomach, but yet I forced myself to drink it. As a result I sweated like a pig, by mid morning there would not be a dry stitch of clothing on me. The veteran field hands just stood there and shook their heads. None bothered to show me the ropes, it was sink or swim for me.
I learned things I never thought I'd learn, like how to read a map, to check cotton, to judge time by the position of the sun in the sky and mark time by the long shadows that are scarecrow like forms cast upon the parched earth. There were no bathrooms out in the field, you took care of your business out in the open. If you had to take a leak, you took a leak behind the shed or out in the open with your back turned. If you need to poop, you dug a hole in the ground, you then squatted down and did what needed to be done. You cleaned up with anything you found, that was the first lesson I learned in the field, always carry some kind of paper.
Lunch was rough. Normally it was some kind of lunch meat you carried with you, normally it was wrapped in white butcher paper. My lunch was normally a few slices of thick bologna wrapped in white butcher paper, a sweet cake, some salted crackers and a bottle of warm water. Breakfast, if I was lucky enough to get it, was a bowl of soggy cornflakes. The hours were long, sometimes twelve, sometimes fourteen.
And at the end of the day, I was normally so tired I could barely eat. But I forced myself to eat. After a fortnight I'd gone from being a little overweight to being skin and bones. Then something happened, maybe it was a miracle or maybe it was a twist of fate. Either way it was something that opened a door that I quickly rushed through.
Rain, that happens. Rain, bucket loads of it. A sudden tropical depression had swung in from the Gulf of Mexico, had traveled up the mouth of the Mississippi River and was now dropping several inches of rain on the Delta. The rain brought coolness. And a halt to work around the farm.
But the rain brought another problem, I had nothing to do. I had no way to access the internet, and none of the books my aunt and uncle had laying around the house suited my taste. I could have caught up on my sleep, but at this point in time I'd been wedded to a sleeping cycle that ran about six, maybe seven if I was lucky. My aunt had her painting in her art studio to keep her busy and my uncle had the outdoors channel in his man-cave to keep him entertained. I had nothing, so to keep cabin fever at bay I decided to steal away to the old library that was located across from my room.
Maybe library is too grand of a word. It was more like a reading room than a true library, it was more like a collection of books than anything. The dusty selves of the study were lined with encyclopedia books and dictionaries. With a few tattered paperbacks scattered about. Not the best reading marital but then again beggars can't be choosers.
Sighing I closed the door and was about to start reading when my aunt popped in.
“Hey Caspar.” She said, smiling a little. “I was wondering if you could do a small favor.” she asked as she peered toward me.
“I need a live model for a painting. But before I decide on you, I want you to take out your ponytail.” She said smiling “Please,”
I blinked and took a deep breath, reached up and removed the hairband from my hair. A second later my dark, raven hair started to spill down. It had been around eighteen or so months since I last had a proper haircut so my hair was a bit saggy, but it reached down to my shoulders.
“Oh Goddess.” My aunt said blushing.
“What..” I said blinking.
“Just that your too pretty to be a boy and second your perfect for my live model.” She said blushing. “Now I'm painting this picture called 'Girl in a white dress, holding a basket of flowers' and well I have the background finished, but I just need a live model. I'll pay you of course, how does eighty dollars sound?”
I blinked and blinked again.
“And when I sell the picture I'll get you ten percent of the total. Normally my paintings sell for around ten thousand dollars, so say a thousand dollars?” She said, shrugging her shoulders.
I blinked a day's pay on top of a possible bonus that could go wrong.
“Good! Because like I said, you're just too pretty to have been a boy, it's like crying shame you had not been born a girl. Anyway, follow me.” Aunt Cat said, smiling as she walked out of the room. “Oh and Casper don't go digging around these books, you never know what you're going to find. And don't go playing Tarzan in the family tree. You might think some of those branches are rotten.”
With that being said I followed my Aunt out of the study. I followed her down the long hallway. A hallway that was lined with portraits of men in woolen three piece suits, ladies in high collar dresses, men in uniform. Till at last I reached a room that took my breath away, the room was my Aunt's bedroom, simply enough wooden flooring like the rest of the house, a king size bed in the middle. Two sets of dresser drawers a few feet from the front of the bed. And in a small corner of the room a simple white Vanity table.
“Close the door sweetheart.” Aunt Cat said smiling. As she walked into the room.
I gently pushed the door closed and followed my aunt into the room. Once we were in the center of the room. My aunt turned around and smiled as she eyed me, her eyes traveled from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. A mischievous grin crossed her face as she peered at.
“Here.” She said grinning. “If you're going to be my live model, you need to look the part. I mean you're already naturally feminine as is.” She added. “Heck, most of your life you've been mistaken for a girl, am I right?”
I blinked and felt my cheeks flush red with embarrassment, I had indeed often been mistaken for a girl when I was younger, most people thought I was just a rough and tumble tomboy growing up. Looking back at that moment I came to understand I'd never been like the other boys growing up. I'd never took part in the rough and tumble games they played, instead I stayed inside and spent my time playing video games, even then my choice of video games were different from my peers, most of my peers played games that centered on warfare and shooting mindless waves of zombies up.
Most of the games I played were life simulation games that included titles of such famous games as Animal Crossing, Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Animal Crossing: New Leaf, Stardew Valley, and my all time favorite Pokemon. Even at sixteen I was still pretty big into Pokemon. I'd started getting into Pokemon when a cousin had gifted me a booster pack of trading cards on my twelve birthday. I'd been hooked ever since. Beside playing the games, I also collected the cards, and I attended local Pokemon League events.. where I was something of a make-shift gym leader.
“Casper?” My Aunt Cat said as she peered toward me. “You okay? Cause you got that thousand yard stare going on right now.”
“Yes I'm fine.” I said, shaking my head from one side to another.
“Okay anyway.” She said, shifting her eyes toward the dresser drawer. “Like I was saying, if you're going to model for me, you need to look the part. So.” she pulled hard upon one of the brass knobs a moment later the drawer came out and a moment later she started to dig. A few seconds later she fished out a silken pair of panties and a bra. She tossed them toward me.
“Go ahead and try those on.” She said taking a deep breath. “And let see,” She then walked over to her closet, pulled the closet open and started to push the dresses to the side. After a moment of digging around she pulled down a simple white dress. The dress had puffy short sleeves and a sweetheart neckline.
“Here.” She said tossing the dress toward me. “Okay go ahead and put those on and come back here. I need to fix your hair, thinking about adding an Alice band to your hair, a white Alice band.. and that it. No make-up this time.” Aunt Cat said with a smile.
I blinked and blinked again.
“Well. Don't just stand there looking like a toadstool on a log, go ahead and change.” Aunt Cat said as she took me by the shoulders and guided me out of the room. “The guest bathroom just down the hallway, go ahead and change.” And with that she pushed me out of the room. The wooden door closed behind me, leaving me standing there with a white dress, a pair of panties and a bra.
Now to be honest, I was lost for words. And so my body went on autopilot and before I knew it I was walking down the hallway and a few seconds later I was walking into the guest bathroom. Without giving it much thought I closed the old wooden door behind me. Once the door was closed, I kicked off my sneakers, removed the old, tattered leather belt from my jeans, and at last I removed the old flannel shirt and tossed it to the side. At last, I removed the white under shirt and plaid boxers. I gathered those clothes up and shoved them to the side.
“What have I gotten myself into now..” I said as I peered toward the bundle of clothes that my aunt had shoved into my hand. “What have I gotten myself into now..” I said, sighing.
I sighed because things were going way too fast, I mean I'd entertained thoughts of being a girl before. Mom always wanted a second daughter, and my older sister had always wanted a little sister to play with. And both seemed a tad bit disappointed that I'd been born a boy instead of a girl. Dad though had been overjoyed at long last, somebody to carry on the family name, somebody to take over the law practice when he retired, somebody to further his plans when he was dead and gone.
But I guess those dreams would dashed now. I mean I guess they had already been torn asunder, I'd never been the son my dad wanted. My dad loved to hunt, fish, ride horses through the jungle like woodlands of the delta. He hunted all manner of animals and had a study full of stuffed creatures that he had taken down with his big long rifle. My dad was tall, with a barrel chest, a strong jawline and stiff upper back. He was a man's man, who smoked, drank and gambled, a man who laughed with the sinner and cried with the saints all on the same Sunday.
Me on the other hand had taken after my mother, I was small, had dark raven hair instead of his sandy blonde. My hands were soft, and I preferred the company of books to people. I'd often seek the advice from long dead poets and writers than from the manly men my father kept company with.
“Oh hell.” I said, sighing. “What have I gotten myself into.”
End Chapter Two
Comments
Vivid descriptions!
I am really enjoying your descriptive writing. You paint a vivid picture of the landscape and of farming on the delta. I have no idea whether it’s accurate— unlike my friend D.Eden I’ve never worked on a farm— but’s it’s certainly vivid!
Emma
The closest I ever came to farming...
...was helping out my mom in her vegetable garden when I was around five. Even though it was nothing like your description of working on a farm, it was still felt like a lot of work. I didn't really see the sense of all the hoeing, weeding, and watering, until the plants started developing. after that, it was kinda exciting to see the garden grow. Still, even having said that, the kinda backbreaking work done on a farm sounds like way out of my league.