Chasing the Rainbow
08/04/09 22:39 Filed in: Prose
As I cornered the bend of the old rustic trail, half exhausted and half relieved, a bright and freshly painted red barn loomed before me in majestic splendor. Draped by the vivid hues of red and gold and brown and green from the autumn patch that hugged its rugged walls, the stately barn resembled a dashing young captain inspecting his field or troop of courtly oaks and spirited evergreens beneath a cool crisp wind. As I readied myself and approached this barn to present myself for humbled inspection, I was presented with a challenge to prove my merit and my mettle. Two obstacles were placed in my path: a rickety old bridge quite functional yet ancient in design, and a small but fearsome creek that did scurry busily beneath the moss entangled timbers of the old bridge. To reach the other side, I must brave one challenge or the other. I must be careful to choose my battle well, and I must not fail.
The creek seemed to me a magnificent mote of nearly impregnable fortitude that taunted me to dare its treacherous divide. I was certain its taunt would prove too harsh for me, so I chose to challenge the bridge. With beams and planks weathered by sun and wind and rain, and shorings that appeared to sway frightfully in the brisk wind and rain, would I be able to muster the grace and the balance needed to cross it both sure and quick? Or do I turn back? No, I have come too far to turn tail and run now. I will earn the right to finish my journey. With stout resolution, and firmer footing, I swallowed my breath and defiantly dared the bridge as I then mastered its challenge. For my bravery, the red barn did reward my daring and grant my entrance into its secluded realm. My journey is nearly done.
As I ventured into the shady hollow of the great barn, few of its denizens seemed perturbed or distracted by my presence. In the stalls to my left, an old brown gelding, nearly eighteen hands high, flicked his tail at me then promptly ignored my presence. In a small hay bed about 10 yards more distant, a single spotted nanny goat, now half blind with age, feigned ignorance of my presence as she chewed on her mid-morning meal. To my right were three broad gurnsey milk cows munching on oats and hay. Not a wink or a nod did they grant me. In a small pen in the far right hand corner, a gruff mother hen did tend to her flock of chicks. I made certain to avoid her little corner and not to incite her motherly instincts. Could it be that my scent had not so soon been forgotten, or was it merely that they sensed no fear or danger from me? Could they have so easily forgotten me? Has it been that long?
As I quickened my pace, now heightened with fervent desire, across the sprawling backyard and toward the robust cedar estate now before me, the scent of freshly baked homemade apple pie and custard greeted me with its fresh tantalizing appeal. I could hear the din of the old RCA radio as it belted out a gospel tune. Smoke was merrily dancing from the black sooted chimney that rose above the living room fireplace. White sheets and patchwork quilts waved in the autumn breeze as they strung across white vinyl lines beside the house. Even though I could see no car in the front driveway nor hear the cackle of children running and squawking, the aroma of fresh cooking and the incense of smoke could only mean one thing as my pulse raced with anticipation and glee. She is here! As I swung wide the back kitchen door and raced ecstatically into the house, my eyes beheld a sight most wondrous and dear to me; “Granny Honey, it’s Billy! I’m back!”
Granny Honey
“Billy boy, oh what a sight you are for my tired old eyes,” said Granny Honey with her soft Irish accent as she scooted from her chair at the oak dining table to reach out and hug me. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week, boy. Now sit down at the table for some grub and tea and tell my why you’re so early.”
As I sat at the table and hungrily helped myself to a plate of veal steak with mushroom gravy sauce and a big glass of fresh tea, I quickly explained to Granny Honey how my dad’s vacation had been called short because of a big computer glitch at Chase Manhattan’s New York branch. My dad is, after all, one of their top network troubleshooters. Then I explained my journey and how I spent nearly fourteen hours on a Greyhound bus to get here. Old Man Brubaker was at the station when I arrived, and he gave me a ride to the back gate between our farms.
“Well, Billy boy, I’m certainly glad you’re here. Pa and I need your big strong help around the farm. My how you’ve grown since just last summer.” “Yep, Granny Honey, I’m getting big now,” I replied. “I’m almost 5 foot 2 and 130 pounds, and I’m now ten years old. Pretty soon, I’ll be a man!”
“Well eat up, boy, and grow some more. We’ve got a lot of work to do to get ready for the Big Party.” As I finished my first plate of food and got ready for the next, I quickly looked around then asked, “Where’s Pa and my cousins Sarah Jo and Danny Ray? I half expected to see them here on a Saturday morning.”
“Pa had to run to town to pick up some food and supplies for the big party, as well as his next batch of rheumatism medicine. Sarah Jo and Danny Ray conned Pa into letting them tag along so they could stop at Winona’s Parlor for an ice cream sundae. I wish they would hurry and get back. We still have a lot of chores and cleaning to do before Doc Hannaway says your sister Mindy will be ready to come home from the Community Hospital. The surgery went o.k,, but she still ain’t doing too well, you know.”
“Don’t worry Granny Honey,” I said with eager enthusiasm in my voice. “Dad made sure to tell me to earn my keep this summer, and you know I’m no slackard.”
“Good, you think you can handle the old push mower?”
“Well, looking at the grass as I came in, it’s certain Pa can’t handle it. Let me finish my plate; then I will give it a try.” Granny Honey gave me one of her big ear to ear grins and cooed, “Billy boy, you’re so good to me.” I smirked and replied, “I know, Granny Honey, I know.”
In Need of a Special Rainbow
“Whew! This old push mower is tougher than it looks,” I wheezed under gasping breath. As I stopped for a short but much needed break, I gazed around at the work that me and this old mower had accomplished. Only about half the back yard had been raked and mowed, and it is already mid afternoon. I sure could use some help from Sarah Jo and Danny Ray to rake this yard so I can finish it today. I bet they weaseled Pa into stopping at Timber Creek Park to take his rheumatism medicine while they run off some energy. If you ask me, those two cousins of mine play too much and work too little, and they are taking advantage of Pa’s ailing health.
Now that I’m here for the summer, I can help Pa keep an eye on those two and make sure they do their share of the chores and stay out of trouble. As Pa and Granny Honey have always said, “When it comes to living on a farm, there’s always enough work to keep everyone busy.” I guess I will have to take care of the big chores, since Sarah Jo and Danny Ray are both only 6 years old, but there’s enough small work around here to keep even those two hombres busy.
As I picked up my rusty hoe, and took one more glimpse at the work that yet lay in wait for me, I could see Granny Honey wearing her favorite knitted sweater as she gathered in the sheets off the clothesline. Even though Granny Honey seemed to be moving around a bit more slowly and gingerly than she did last summer, she appeared to be getting around o.k. for a seventy year old woman. I would imagine that having to chase around two hyperactive brats, while their momma is stationed at an Air Force base in Belgium for another 6 months, has to be wearing thin on Granny Honey’s health.
At least the check that Aunt Bonnie sends home every month is helping Pa to keep this old farm running. Every bit helps, especially since Claymore Mine shut down a few years back and moved upstate. A lot of good people were hurt by the mine closure, and a lot of younger families in the community were forced to move away to chase down new jobs. There’s not a lot of work around Clay County, any more, except for Old Man Greer’s lumberyard and the Clay County Community Hospital. To hear Pa tell it, the younger folks abandoned the older folks to fend for themselves. A lot of the farms around here are just barely surviving and making a living. I sure hope things change soon.
Granny Honey manages to bring in some extra money by selling off some of her canned peaches and pears, as well as her famous apple cinnamon pies, at the Copper Top Flea Market. She sets up a booth every other weekend, and Pa wrangles with the customers to bring in a fair price. I don’t know which Pa likes best: dickering with the customers or sneaking slices of pie while Granny Honey has her back turned. Pa thinks he’s pretty slick, but only because Granny Honey lets him get away with it.
Pa still gets a pension check from Claymore Mine, but more and more of his check seems to be going right back out to pay for all of his medicine. I’m not supposed to know this, but Doc Hannaway told Granny Honey that Pa may not be around much longer. I guess Granny Honey will have to break out one of her “special rainbows” for Pa, just like she did for my momma just two years ago. That’s why Dad told me to keep a close eye on Pa and to work extra hard this summer. There’s no way Granny Honey could run this farm by herself without help.
If Dad gets his new promotion, he says we will be moving close enough to take over running this farm so Granny Honey can start taking life a bit easier. I love my Granny Honey, but she ain’t a spring chicken, any more. Besides, I can’t let her go until she passes on to me the secret of her special rainbows. Someone in this family has to carry on her legacy, and I figure I’m the one to do it. The trick will be convincing Granny Honey that I am the chosen one to carry her mantle. That won’t be easy, as she is pretty shrewd and sharp. I suppose I have all summer to figure this one out, but the rest of this yard can’t wait. “C’mon, Mr. Mower and Mr. Rake, we have a job to finish before it gets late.”
Not twenty minutes later, my Granny Honey rushed out the back kitchen door in a frenzied panic and yelled at the top of her old lungs, “Billy, Billy, come quick! Mr. Brubaker is coming over to take us to the Community Hospital. Pa has had another attack!” No sooner did the words clear her throat than I dropped my rake and rushed to her side. As I raced at full speed with all my breath and might, I muttered this little prayer to Jesus: “Dear Lord, please don’t let it be Pa’s time so soon to meet you. I’ve just gotta see him again!” As Granny Honey reached out to me with her big tender arms, I wiped the flowing tears from my eyes and took a big deep breath before mustering these words, “Don’t worry, Granny Honey, Pa will be alright. But, if it is his time to be with Jesus, you had best prepare one of your special rainbows.
End Chapter
The creek seemed to me a magnificent mote of nearly impregnable fortitude that taunted me to dare its treacherous divide. I was certain its taunt would prove too harsh for me, so I chose to challenge the bridge. With beams and planks weathered by sun and wind and rain, and shorings that appeared to sway frightfully in the brisk wind and rain, would I be able to muster the grace and the balance needed to cross it both sure and quick? Or do I turn back? No, I have come too far to turn tail and run now. I will earn the right to finish my journey. With stout resolution, and firmer footing, I swallowed my breath and defiantly dared the bridge as I then mastered its challenge. For my bravery, the red barn did reward my daring and grant my entrance into its secluded realm. My journey is nearly done.
As I ventured into the shady hollow of the great barn, few of its denizens seemed perturbed or distracted by my presence. In the stalls to my left, an old brown gelding, nearly eighteen hands high, flicked his tail at me then promptly ignored my presence. In a small hay bed about 10 yards more distant, a single spotted nanny goat, now half blind with age, feigned ignorance of my presence as she chewed on her mid-morning meal. To my right were three broad gurnsey milk cows munching on oats and hay. Not a wink or a nod did they grant me. In a small pen in the far right hand corner, a gruff mother hen did tend to her flock of chicks. I made certain to avoid her little corner and not to incite her motherly instincts. Could it be that my scent had not so soon been forgotten, or was it merely that they sensed no fear or danger from me? Could they have so easily forgotten me? Has it been that long?
As I quickened my pace, now heightened with fervent desire, across the sprawling backyard and toward the robust cedar estate now before me, the scent of freshly baked homemade apple pie and custard greeted me with its fresh tantalizing appeal. I could hear the din of the old RCA radio as it belted out a gospel tune. Smoke was merrily dancing from the black sooted chimney that rose above the living room fireplace. White sheets and patchwork quilts waved in the autumn breeze as they strung across white vinyl lines beside the house. Even though I could see no car in the front driveway nor hear the cackle of children running and squawking, the aroma of fresh cooking and the incense of smoke could only mean one thing as my pulse raced with anticipation and glee. She is here! As I swung wide the back kitchen door and raced ecstatically into the house, my eyes beheld a sight most wondrous and dear to me; “Granny Honey, it’s Billy! I’m back!”
Granny Honey
“Billy boy, oh what a sight you are for my tired old eyes,” said Granny Honey with her soft Irish accent as she scooted from her chair at the oak dining table to reach out and hug me. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week, boy. Now sit down at the table for some grub and tea and tell my why you’re so early.”
As I sat at the table and hungrily helped myself to a plate of veal steak with mushroom gravy sauce and a big glass of fresh tea, I quickly explained to Granny Honey how my dad’s vacation had been called short because of a big computer glitch at Chase Manhattan’s New York branch. My dad is, after all, one of their top network troubleshooters. Then I explained my journey and how I spent nearly fourteen hours on a Greyhound bus to get here. Old Man Brubaker was at the station when I arrived, and he gave me a ride to the back gate between our farms.
“Well, Billy boy, I’m certainly glad you’re here. Pa and I need your big strong help around the farm. My how you’ve grown since just last summer.” “Yep, Granny Honey, I’m getting big now,” I replied. “I’m almost 5 foot 2 and 130 pounds, and I’m now ten years old. Pretty soon, I’ll be a man!”
“Well eat up, boy, and grow some more. We’ve got a lot of work to do to get ready for the Big Party.” As I finished my first plate of food and got ready for the next, I quickly looked around then asked, “Where’s Pa and my cousins Sarah Jo and Danny Ray? I half expected to see them here on a Saturday morning.”
“Pa had to run to town to pick up some food and supplies for the big party, as well as his next batch of rheumatism medicine. Sarah Jo and Danny Ray conned Pa into letting them tag along so they could stop at Winona’s Parlor for an ice cream sundae. I wish they would hurry and get back. We still have a lot of chores and cleaning to do before Doc Hannaway says your sister Mindy will be ready to come home from the Community Hospital. The surgery went o.k,, but she still ain’t doing too well, you know.”
“Don’t worry Granny Honey,” I said with eager enthusiasm in my voice. “Dad made sure to tell me to earn my keep this summer, and you know I’m no slackard.”
“Good, you think you can handle the old push mower?”
“Well, looking at the grass as I came in, it’s certain Pa can’t handle it. Let me finish my plate; then I will give it a try.” Granny Honey gave me one of her big ear to ear grins and cooed, “Billy boy, you’re so good to me.” I smirked and replied, “I know, Granny Honey, I know.”
In Need of a Special Rainbow
“Whew! This old push mower is tougher than it looks,” I wheezed under gasping breath. As I stopped for a short but much needed break, I gazed around at the work that me and this old mower had accomplished. Only about half the back yard had been raked and mowed, and it is already mid afternoon. I sure could use some help from Sarah Jo and Danny Ray to rake this yard so I can finish it today. I bet they weaseled Pa into stopping at Timber Creek Park to take his rheumatism medicine while they run off some energy. If you ask me, those two cousins of mine play too much and work too little, and they are taking advantage of Pa’s ailing health.
Now that I’m here for the summer, I can help Pa keep an eye on those two and make sure they do their share of the chores and stay out of trouble. As Pa and Granny Honey have always said, “When it comes to living on a farm, there’s always enough work to keep everyone busy.” I guess I will have to take care of the big chores, since Sarah Jo and Danny Ray are both only 6 years old, but there’s enough small work around here to keep even those two hombres busy.
As I picked up my rusty hoe, and took one more glimpse at the work that yet lay in wait for me, I could see Granny Honey wearing her favorite knitted sweater as she gathered in the sheets off the clothesline. Even though Granny Honey seemed to be moving around a bit more slowly and gingerly than she did last summer, she appeared to be getting around o.k. for a seventy year old woman. I would imagine that having to chase around two hyperactive brats, while their momma is stationed at an Air Force base in Belgium for another 6 months, has to be wearing thin on Granny Honey’s health.
At least the check that Aunt Bonnie sends home every month is helping Pa to keep this old farm running. Every bit helps, especially since Claymore Mine shut down a few years back and moved upstate. A lot of good people were hurt by the mine closure, and a lot of younger families in the community were forced to move away to chase down new jobs. There’s not a lot of work around Clay County, any more, except for Old Man Greer’s lumberyard and the Clay County Community Hospital. To hear Pa tell it, the younger folks abandoned the older folks to fend for themselves. A lot of the farms around here are just barely surviving and making a living. I sure hope things change soon.
Granny Honey manages to bring in some extra money by selling off some of her canned peaches and pears, as well as her famous apple cinnamon pies, at the Copper Top Flea Market. She sets up a booth every other weekend, and Pa wrangles with the customers to bring in a fair price. I don’t know which Pa likes best: dickering with the customers or sneaking slices of pie while Granny Honey has her back turned. Pa thinks he’s pretty slick, but only because Granny Honey lets him get away with it.
Pa still gets a pension check from Claymore Mine, but more and more of his check seems to be going right back out to pay for all of his medicine. I’m not supposed to know this, but Doc Hannaway told Granny Honey that Pa may not be around much longer. I guess Granny Honey will have to break out one of her “special rainbows” for Pa, just like she did for my momma just two years ago. That’s why Dad told me to keep a close eye on Pa and to work extra hard this summer. There’s no way Granny Honey could run this farm by herself without help.
If Dad gets his new promotion, he says we will be moving close enough to take over running this farm so Granny Honey can start taking life a bit easier. I love my Granny Honey, but she ain’t a spring chicken, any more. Besides, I can’t let her go until she passes on to me the secret of her special rainbows. Someone in this family has to carry on her legacy, and I figure I’m the one to do it. The trick will be convincing Granny Honey that I am the chosen one to carry her mantle. That won’t be easy, as she is pretty shrewd and sharp. I suppose I have all summer to figure this one out, but the rest of this yard can’t wait. “C’mon, Mr. Mower and Mr. Rake, we have a job to finish before it gets late.”
Not twenty minutes later, my Granny Honey rushed out the back kitchen door in a frenzied panic and yelled at the top of her old lungs, “Billy, Billy, come quick! Mr. Brubaker is coming over to take us to the Community Hospital. Pa has had another attack!” No sooner did the words clear her throat than I dropped my rake and rushed to her side. As I raced at full speed with all my breath and might, I muttered this little prayer to Jesus: “Dear Lord, please don’t let it be Pa’s time so soon to meet you. I’ve just gotta see him again!” As Granny Honey reached out to me with her big tender arms, I wiped the flowing tears from my eyes and took a big deep breath before mustering these words, “Don’t worry, Granny Honey, Pa will be alright. But, if it is his time to be with Jesus, you had best prepare one of your special rainbows.
End Chapter