Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: First World Problem (04/17/14)
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TITLE: A Day in Two Lives | Previous Challenge Entry
By Steve McClure
04/24/14 -
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“Yes’m.”
Tommy stared through the old, rippled glass pane into the sunless gray. Morning mist wisped across the broad, treeless yard, enveloping the large farm tractors barely visible on the far side. It was like this when the good Lord took Daddy, a year ago today – 1955. I was nine. It’ll be a sad day for Momma.
“Now, Tommy!”
“Yes’m.”
Tommy brushed back his longish sandy hair and buttoned a suspender over a plaid flannel shirt. He grabbed a stack of books and headed for the door of the two-room wooden shack.
“You come straight home after; we got chores.”
“Yes’m.”
Chores. Totin’ clean laundry up to the big house, and dirty laundry back. That’s mainly what Momma does every day – laundry. It’s how we earn our keep since Daddy died.
Tommy jumped off the step into the dust and started walking down the long dirt drive. The April mist hung over the seemingly endless fields on either side of the drive…fields peppered with little green shoots that by midsummer would become knee-high stalks of young corn. Hadley corn. The Hadley farm was the largest in these parts. Even the one-room school house at the end of the drive sat on Hadley land.
Tommy heard a familiar roar behind him and stepped into the weeds beside the drive. A midnight blue ’40 Ford coupe flew by spewing dust in its wake. Young Hank Hadley heading for the school house. Tommy stepped back onto the drive and continued his long walk.
Tommy reached school just as Miss Kent was ringing the bell. Twenty-some kids attended here. Ages ranged from the twin Schuster girls – their first year in school – to Young Hank in his last year. Hank slouched in a desk chair in a rear corner of the room. As always, he was wearing his black leather jacket with the collar turned up, curly black hair combed into a tuft that hung low over his forehead.
Miss Kent was writing assignments on the blackboard in yellow chalk. Yellow for spring. In winter she’d write in blue.
“We’re going to finish early, today,” her perky voice began. A cheer went up from the class. “We’re finishing early so we can take that field trip to Mrs. Rossi’s place. Who can make it?
The widow Rossi lived on a nearby small farm – or former farm. The land had long lain fallow. Instead, she collected exotic animals – llamas, macaws, colorful birds of all sorts…even a zebra. The class made a trip to her place every once in a while. The kids liked the animals and she liked the company of children (she had none of her own).
“Can’t make it, Miss Kent.”
“Why not, Hank. You know how Mrs. Rossi always likes seeing you.”
“My radio’s on the fritz. Gotta drive into Raintree to get it fixed.”
Raintree was the nearest town, about 30 miles away.
“Maybe you could do that another time?”
“Can’t go without a radio, Miss Kent. You know, gotta keep up with the tunes.”
Hank yearned for city life. He’d never been to a big city, but he just knew that’s where he belonged. When he finished school, he was going to put farming behind him.
“I’m sure you could do without it for one day, Hank. We don’t get to Mrs. Rossi’s that often.”
“Can’t do it, Miss Kent. You know.”
“No, I don’t know. It saddens me.”
Hank was unmoved.
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Tommy hopped from the school bus and ran up the drive. The class stayed at Mrs. Rossi’s longer than expected; she had made treats for all. The macaws were in good spirits, too. Tommy liked the macaws; one was blue and yellow, the other – red and blue. When they were in the mood, they would repeat things people said.
He ran up the steps, through the open door into the shack. Laundry piles were waiting. Momma gave Tommy a cross look, but didn’t say anything. She’d been crying.
Tommy put his books down, grabbed a laundry pile and headed out the door. He heard the Ford roaring up the drive in a cloud of dust, radio blaring. Tommy walked to the back of the big house and deposited the clean laundry inside the screened porch. He retrieved a pile of dirty laundry and headed back to the shack to repeat the routine.
Hank was wiping the Ford down, listening to his radio.
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God bless~
Thanks for sharing.