The red signal light zipped past the end of his shoes as he arched down toward the ground. Noah’s right shoulder impacted the dry dirt and weeds first, sending a wave of hot pain speeding through his torso. The pitch of the train’s whistle sank off into the distance as he staggered to his feet. Lone threads of iron wound out around the bend and disappeared with the shrinking signal poles.
“That was nothing short of a miracle.” Noah picked up his bag and started back toward Rennie standing among the tall weeds, but Noah’s right knee buckled under his weight. Son of a---”
Rennie wagged a hand in the air beckoning Noah to join him. The worn teen hobbled along the small hummock of rock and railroad ties under a moonless sky. The fragrant scent of apples forced a loud gurgle from his empty stomach.
“Come, come, my friend.” Rennie slid down a shallow embankment toward the neat rows in the orchard. “We’ll at least be able to fill our bellies before moving on to catch a train on the other side of the station.”
“Sounds good to me.” Noah skidded down the hillside. “I’m about to eat my spine in half.”
Rennie hurried to the first pair of apple trees and plucked the small fruit from their lower boughs. “They aren’t quite ripe yet,” he eyed up a small apple, “but they won’t make you sick.” He tossed a piece of the hard fruit at Noah. “Here, have some.”
Noah caught it in his hand and brushed it clean as best as he could on his soiled coveralls. The palm-sized apple barely put a dent in the young man’s appetite. Its sour pallet left a lot to be desired, but he forced it down all the same.
“I figure,” Rennie said between masticated bites, “that we’ve got about two hours until the next train leaves the station for Indianapolis.” He chuckled and pitched the spent core off into the cluster of underbrush beside them. “I’ve got a few dollars in my shoe, and I know several great places in that town.” He underhanded another apple to Noah. “You coming?”
“I doubt it, Rennie.” He crunched on another dose of sourness. “I’ve gotta earn some money around here first, I think. Save up enough to get a little farther, like Chicago.”
“Ah.” Rennie tossed his core out into the weeds. “Now there is a grand city!” He set his newsboy back on his head. “Lots of jobs. Lots of girls. You’ll love it there.”
“From the way Artie talked, California sounds like the place for me.”
Rennie shrugged. “I travel between Baltimore and Chicago. I need to stay close to the east coast.” He plucked a few more apples from the neighboring tree. “When I’ve got enough saved up, I can take it back to my family.”
“Stayin’ back in the old country?”
Rennie shook his brown locks. “Of course, not. I’ll bring them all back over here to freedom---prosperity!”
“Am I missing something, Rennie?”
“There are many things wrong over here right now, too, mon ami, but my country is still far worse than any of this.”
Noah chucked his spent core out into oblivion.
“I was born near the end of the Great War,” Rennie said. “My mother had to beg on street corners and sell anything she could to get us food.” Rennie’s hardened stare fell to the green tufts at their feet. “Damn Germans!” He spat in disgust. “You may not have a lot here, but at least you’re far away from those imperialist pigs.”
“Can’t say I know much about that.”
Rennie bobbed his head in acquiescence. “It’s a big world out there.”
“And maybe one day I’ll get to see it all!” Noah spread his arms out wide.
This led to a fit of laughter. Feels good to do that again.
“Maybe you will, mon ami.” Rennie tossed his last core into the weeds and wiped his hands on his trousers. “You sure you don’t want to come to Indiana?”
Noah nodded. “I’ll settle in around here for a spell and sock away some money for my trip up north.”
“Well,” Rennie stuffed his hands into his pockets, “be safe out here, and remember what Artie and I told you about ze trains, know?”
Noah chuckled and grabbed his bag. “I will. Be safe, Rennie.”
The young Frenchman tossed a hand into the air and waded off among the weeds and brush in the direction of the distant station.
“Well,” Noah tossed his sack over his shoulder, “I reckon I’d better get down to the barn and see what I can get into for a buck.”
He padded down the long rows of bulbous trees whistling a tune amid the cacophony that the crickets and cicadas offered for accompaniment. The trees wound up a small mound and then curved off into a shallow valley toward three towering silos. The sun still hadn’t broken the stillness of space when Noah reached the tall structures. The lone call of a distant cow gave evidence to the only other stirring creature. He sat on the cool grass and leaned his back up against the nearest silo. Might as well catch a catnap. Then I can talk to the owner in the morning. He slid his bag of earthly possessions close and settled into a much needed slumber.
“C’mon!” The blunt tip of a boot prodded Noah’s outer thigh. “If you’re gonna board here, you’re gonna earn your keep.”
Noah grumbled and stretched out his stiff back. Lying curled up against the silo did little to help loosen his muscles that already felt like concrete.
“You can come with me,” the portly red-bearded man said. “We’ll see what Buck wants to do with you.”
Noah’s rigid leg muscles refused to propel him from the dew-soaked grass.
“Up ya go.” The man took him by a hand. “The name’s Rich.”
“Noah.” He dusted off his jeans and grabbed his sack.
Rich nodded his cowboy hat and studied Noah with a stern glare. “Good strong name. Let’s hope you’ve got the back to go with it.”
Noah followed a long line of men, some bent by years of this kind of labor, to a single-level ranch home. Its long front façade had once been a brilliant white, but storm and time had faded the home’s former luster. Several men stood around muttering about the upcoming harvest and how it compared to years’ past.
“Wonder if ole Buck’s gonna give us that bushel bonus like he did last harvest,” one crooked old-timer said in a raspy voice. His counterpart shrugged and spat a line of tobacco juice out into the dirt.
“All right, listen up!” A sinewy fellow in an old tee shirt hushed the group with a wave of his lean arms.
Buck Wilson strode across the wrap-around porch in a well-pressed tan suit and vest. “Mornin’, men.”
“Good morning,” the group said in an energetic tone.
Buck leaned his seventy-six inch frame out over the bannister. His manicured handlebar moustache peeked out from the shadows of his brim. “We’ve got a lot of work to do out in the orchards today, gentlemen. There’s only a couple of months left until the harvest will be in full swing. So, I need each man to pull his weight more now than ever.”
Buck moseyed to the front steps and set a hand on the nearest post. “We’ve still got a pretty good order list piling up for the fall again this year.”
Several workers mumbled in strong affirmation.
“If you do your part,” Buck said, “and tend to the trees I’ll be able to offer you the same harvest bonus that I did last season.”
A collective whoop erupted from the workforce.
“I’ll give each man an extra twenty-five cents per bushel that they bring in from the field.” Buck plucked a thin cigar from the pocket of his tan vest and slid it into the corner of his mouth. “There’ll be a small fortune to be had for each of ya.”
One worker at the far end of the crowd raised up on the tips of his toes. “That’s what we like to hear, Buck!”
“Very well.” Buck took a drag off his stogie and pointed it in the direction of the apple orchards. “Mac?”
“Yessir!” A gristled white-haired gent down front slapped his hat against a thigh.
“I want you to take your team out there to the southern end and start pruning out the dead weight on those trees.”
Mac’s red leathery neck bobbed in agreement.
“Rich?”
“Sir!”
“Take your team to the northern end and meet ‘em in the middle.” Buck inhaled another deep lungful of the American-rolled tobacco. “We’ll all meet back up here and clean up for supper.”
“Yessir,” Mac and Rich said in near unison.
Mac turned and barked his commands to his team as they headed back in the direction of the barn.
Rich motioned for Noah to come join him next to the front porch. “Beg your pardon, sir.”
Buck’s keen blue gaze locked with Noah’s own. “Got a fresh one, do ya, Rich?”
The foreman grunted.
“What’s your name, son?” Another plume of fragrant tobacco smoke filtered up around the porch’s overhang.
“November Greene, sir,” he said, his voice unsure.
Buck’s brow furrowed. “November? You tryin’ to pull one over on me, boy?”
“No, sir.” His eyes fell to the lowest stair. “That’s the name my momma gave me, but most folks call me Noah.”
“Found him up against one of the silos this mornin’, boss,” Rich added. “What do you wanna do about him?”
Buck released an audible sigh laced with another cloud of spent cigar. “Can you work, Noah?”
Three quick bobs. “Yessir.”
Buck descended the steps to tower over Noah. “If you can do your share around here, then I suppose there’s no harm in boardin’ another pair of good hands.”
“I will, sir,” Noah said. “You have my word.”
Buck rested a big hand on his left shoulder and shook it gently. “Fair enough, Noah.” His cool blue stare turned to Rich. “Take him down and get him settled in the bunkhouse. He can work on your team.” Buck turned and strode up onto his porch. “I want him workin’ with you and Toby today, understand?”
“Yessir.” Rich clapped Noah on the back and walked toward the bunkhouse. “C’mon, boy. We’ve got a lot to do.”
After his quick tour of the bunkhouse and area around the barn, Noah followed his new foreman down the ruts in the road.
“It’s a relatively big operation here.” Rich led them under a grove of ancient walnut trees. “We’ve got the orchard to tend to, the hay fields, livestock to take care of and the barn and equipment to maintain.”
Noah did his best to take all of the information in as he walked on his side of the shin-deep weeds.
“Buck gives us room, board, and even a small weekly wage for our work.” Rich stopped at the top of the small knoll and surveyed the massive orchard that spread out in the valley below. “Yup, there’s a good life to be had in these parts. Better than anything you’ll find out there on the rails.”
Noah halted next to the middle-aged man and let his eyes wander over the majestic rows of green bulbs. A fragrant summer wind carried the smells of the fertile grounds into his freckled nose. I could get used to something like this.
“Well, we ain’t gonna get any younger standing up here a-gawkin’.” Rich lumbered down the other side of the knoll.
The last of Mac’s crew snaked off over the rolling hillside ahead while Rich’s team settled in here for their long day of pruning. The engine of a John Deere tractor fired to life from the hidden lower corner of the orchard. Noah watched it roll in as he joined the other men of his working party at the northern head of the apple trees. The cap on the end of its small exhaust stack bobbed up and down releasing plumes of black smoke and the acrid odor of diesel.
“Ah!” Rich slapped his round belly. “That’s the smell of another day’s wages comin’.”
The other men whooped in accord as the watched the tractor and its wagon come to rest alongside them.
The old man in the driver’s seat slammed the gear shift into park and turned around to face them. “All right, boys. Grab your stuff and get to it.” He spat a long line of brown spit out into the grass. “I’ll be back for ya’ll around supper time.”
The man next to Noah, who didn’t appear much older, picked up a pair of pruning shears and handed another to him. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks.” Noah took the tool in his left hand.
“I’m Toby.” The young man extended his hand. “Toby Harper.”
“November Greene.”
Toby chuckled a d ran a hand through his blond locks.
“Just call me Noah.”
“Sorry,” Toby said in a more serious tone. “I just never heard anybody with a name quite like that before. No offense.”
Noah wore a grimace. “None taken.”
“Okay, men!” Rich barked as he strode down the middle row of trees. “I want you to get up as high as you can reach, and after that we’ll break out the ladders to get the tops.”
The crew dispersed around the many rows of trees and got straight to their chore at hand. Rich walked back toward Noah and Toby.
“You two come with me.” He pointed his shears at them from the first tree in its row.
Noah followed Toby up the slope to the trees and stood on the opposite side.
“Now,” Rich said, “I want you to look for the smaller, weaker branches,” he pulled one out from the emerald bulb-shaped tree, “like these. Cut ‘em off at the main chute.”
Noah nodded once in affirmation.
“Good,” Rich said. “These ones here that have already got bark on ‘em – just leave them be.” He let the branch snap back into place. “Understand?”
Noah bobbed his head.
“Yessir,” Toby said.
“All right.” Rich strode off toward the next row of trees. “I’m gonna go get the other men started, and then I’ll come back to check on ya.”
“Thanks.” Noah lifted his shears up level to his eyes.
The morning burned off into midday. Noah wiped another coating of sweat from his brow and glanced off into the sailing tufts of white high above him. A defiant gargle radiated from his waistline. Time for a little treat. Noah reached out to pluck a piece of the green and red fruit from its perch.
“Nope.” Rich sat a meaty hand on top of Noah’s. “Don’t think so, son.”
Noah drew his hand back to his side and lowered his head in defeat.
“We don’t ever take from the fields,” Rich said. “That’s thievin’ and the fastest ticket outa here.”
“I was just hungry,” Noah said. “What are we supposed to do for lunch while we’re out here?”
“They’ll be bringin’ it along any time now.” Rich jabbed a thumb back toward the roadway out of the orchard.
Noah’s chest deflated as he picked up his tool and went back to work.
“Why don’t you tell us where you came from?” Rich suggested. “What’s your story, Noah?”
He shrugged as he snipped another small branch off their current specimen of Granny Smith. “I grew up on a farm kinda like this one back in West Virginia. Times got real tough on my folks, and they had to send some of us kids out.”
Toby’s hazel eyes fell to the roots of the tree. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. There’s more and more of that goin’ around nowadays.”
“It’s all right,” Noah said. “You’ve gotta take what life gives ya, I guess.”
Rich chuckled and patted him on the back. “Well said.”
“How ‘bout you fellas?” Noah checked his handiwork. “What led you here?”
Rich arched his back with a groan. “Well, before this I used to work at a building and loan bank over in Columbus. Business was boomin’ right up until the crash.” He lifted the brown cowboy hat from his head and wiped his glistening forehead across his sleeve. “Damn near lost everything. I considered packing up the wife and kids to go to California, but I was able to find work here instead.”
“How about you, Toby?” Noah snipped several more small stems from a branch at eye-level.
“I was workin’ at my folk’s general store over in Akron when all hell broke loose. One day we’re pretty as a peach, and the next we’re in the dumps.”
The muttering and giggles of several women stopped Toby cold. Noah followed his companion’s stare down the row to the approaching gaggle of women. Each person, young and old, carried a big wicker tray stuffed full of sandwiches and fruit. Several more lumbered behind toting a pail of water in either hand.
“Looks like lunch in on, gents!” Rich leaned his shears up against the trunk of the tree and poked a finger in either side of his mouth.
A loud whistle rang out around the valley calling the work crews in for chow. Noah trailed in behind Rich and Toby as they formed a line in front of the girls.
“Okay, Rich,” the elder blonde said, “you know the routine.”
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Wilson.” He turned to the rest of the men in line. “Take one swig of water, one from each tray and find a shady spot to rest for a spell!”
Noah shuffled behind Toby and mimicked his every move. He bent down close to the metal pail and took the ladle in his hand. The cold water revived his scorched throat and soothed his weary mind. He chose a small sandwich from the next tray and filed in behind Toby.
“We’re real lucky here.” Toby grabbed a peach from the next tray. “You won’t find this kind of hospitality everyplace.”
He took a peach from the slender young hand in front of him. Noah followed her arm up to a supple breast.
“Afternoon,” she said with a flirtatious giggle.
Noah’s eyes wandered up into the girl’s hypnotizing blue gaze. “M-ma’am.”
“See you soon.” She fluttered her fingers.
Noah stumbled into the shade of a tall wild cherry tree in the corner of the field. Toby shook his head as Noah bit into his sandwich.
“Huh-uh.” He bit into his own sandwich. “You don’t want anything to do with her.”
“Who is she?” Noah studied the athletic young woman up and down. She wore a pair of high-cut shorts that hid very little and a red checkered shirt that she had tied off in a knot just below her perky breasts.
“Lily,” Toby said.
Noah’s jaw hung open. “Uh huh.”
“Lily Wilson.”
That snapped Noah out of his daydreams. “Buck’s daughter?”
Toby nodded. “One of ‘em anyhow. And like I said, I’d just stay clear of her if I were you.”
Noah tried to overt his eyes, but they found their way back into Lily’s as if pulled by some unfathomable force. I didn’t know anything that beautiful even existed. I’ve gotta see her again.