3 minute read
PLOWING by Ed Nichols
PLOWING by Ed Nichols
say she’s done that before,” he said. “I know,” she said. “This afternoon is scorching,” he said. He could smell the tobacco leaves and he wanted a chew, but his arms were wet with sweat and plumb limp. He wanted to fly away. But it was too hot, and the sun was too bright. He said, “I may go blind soon.” She said, “Quit talking like a silly mouse and go back to plowing.” “Okay. You sure are hard on me. Git up Maude,” he said. “I’m going back to the house,” she said. “You look out for that elected official's wife if she were to come traipsing through here.” Sam nodded and held the reins tight as Mauda plowed hard. After an hour or so he felt dizzy. At the end of a row, he stopped Maude and walked over to the big oak tree where he kept his jug of water. He sat down in the shade, drank water and relaxed his arms. A woman’s voice from the woods said, “Can I have a drink of water?” “Sure,” he said. When she stepped in front of him he recognized she was the elected official’s wife. He handed her his little gourd dipper full of water. “Thank you so much,” she said. She drank all the water in the dipper and he refilled it for her. “I think I’ll sit a minute if you don’t mind,” she said. “That’s okay by me,” he said. “Thank you,” she said. “Where you headed?” he said. “I’m not sure now but I’ve got an idea. A place where everyone is treated nicely. A place where each day is like a day in paradise.” She finally arose, and said, “Thank you for the water, I am leaving now.” Sam watched the elected official’s wife walk into the woods. He unhooked the plow from Maude, picked up his water jug, and led Maude into the woods.
