Farm of love

The sun was shining outside my bedroom window, the bright rays were warming up the fields of apple trees I would be tending to that day. I grew up in the city, but my family was in and out of my life from a young age. Today was the first day I was staying in a large farm in the countryside on an apprenticeship. It wasn’t my idea but I was excited to start working. My mom had even packed me a lunch before she went on her business trip across the country with her new fiancé, Carlos. I didn’t like the idea of her getting married again, especially since she had left my father in a harsh way. She had just left one night and came back to get me three months later. I always wondered if she’d do the same thing to Carlos. 

I put on the large straw hat I had bought myself and left the pastel peach room, making sure to close the rustic, white door behind me. The house was big. Much bigger than our apartment in the city. When I lived with my mom we only had one bedroom and I had to sleep on a mattress on the floor. I never complained though, it wasn’t my place to complain about my moms life choices. I am a good kid, or, I like to think I am. 

I reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the green kitchen, a girl my age and an older man sat together at a table in the corner. There was no room for me. A box of cereal and a bowl had been put out with my name written on it. I poured the wheat flakes into the blue ceramic bowl and added a bit of milk. I didn’t like milk that much. The texture always weirded me out. But I didn’t complain. I stood and ate my breakfast in silence. The girl that was my age got up and said,

“You’re Chloe ain’t ya?” She had a thick country accent and her hair was dyed purple, bits of straw and dirt smudged throughout and her hands were covered in soot. 

“Yes ma’am.” I smiled and saluted awkwardly. 

“No need for any of that.” The man chuckled from his spot at the table. 

“Sorry.” I put my hand down and brushed my bangs out of my face, feeling embarrassed. 

“I’m going to show ya how to collect eggs. C’mon.” She started walking towards the front door. A pile of work boots were neatly placed on a very dirty mat. I noticed that one pair had my name on them. I watched as the girl put on the boots. I had never worn a pair of work boots. Only sandals and sneakers. I slipped my pair on as well, they were cold and uncomfortable around my ankles. It felt like I was walking in jelly shoes as I followed the girl to the large chicken coop. 

“So,” the girl picked up a jug of water and a bag of feed. She handed me the feed and continued, “you go in there are sprinkle that there feed all over the ground. I’ll fill up the water. You got it?” There was a sort of intensnes to the way she spoke. I watched as she unlatched the gate and turned back to me, “I’m Abigail by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled. I noticed her face fall and she went back to working. I scattered the small bits of dry grain all over the ground. The chickens pecked at it noisily. I felt a bit freaked out and afraid one of them was going to peck at me. 

“Don’t just stand around.” Abigail scoffed. “Help me with the water!” She sounded almost offended. I wondered if I hurt her feelings somehow. I nodded quietly and went to the large containers of water. The sun was beating down on us, my hat was slipping in my eyes so I could barely see. I helped screw the big lid back on the container and followed Abigail out of the large enclosure. 

“Ya done good kid.” She said, not looking at me. 

“What’s next?” I asked eagerly, rubbing my hands together to show I was excited. 

“The cows.” Abigail said plainly. 

We walked to the barn in silence. When we got to the large red building there was a boy, about my age, I had never met, hooking up automatic milkers to the cows' utters. 

“Hey Johnny.” Abigail said to the boys. He gave her a high five and smiled, 

“Howdy there Abby! I see you got the new one right to work! She setlin in aight?” His accent was so thick I barely understood him. 

“She sure is!” Abigail said. Johnny took two pieces of straw from his plaid shirt pocket and handed one to Abigail, the other, he stuck in his teeth like in the movies, Abigail did the same. 

“I got the cows all covered, do you two wanna start on lunch for the rest of us hard workers?” 

“If you don’t need none help then we’ll get right on that.” Abigail smiled. The boy shook his head and Abigail started walking away. I nodded a thanks and hello to Johnny and followed the girl quickly. We went back into the large, dirty white farmhouse, took off our boots and went to the colorful kitchen. 

“What are we cooking?” I asked. I noticed Abigail put on an apron that had been hanging on a hook and trying her long hair up into a ponytail. I did the same, making sure to wash my hands first. 

“I think we should make vegetable stew and key lime pie.” 

It sounded like the fanciest lunch in the world and my mouth instantly started to water. Growing up with my mom, I had leftover pizza most days and occasionally cheap Mac and cheese from the convenience store. I had never had key lime pie, I’ve only seen it in shop windows with fancy piping and decorations. Abigail took vegetables out of the fridge and put them on a chopping board. 

“Cut these.” She said, moving over to the freezer and taking out a frozen pie crust. I went to the cutting board and started chopping the carrots. The other vegetable out for me to cut was onions. I hate cutting onions, they make my eyes burn, just like they do to everyone else. Once when I was little and my parents were still together we would all cook together and I was always in charge of cutting vegetables, but when it came to the onions my eyes burned so bad I had to go to the doctor for pain medication. I finished chopping the carrots and hesitated for a second before picking up the onions and moving them to the center of the chopping board. I lined up the knife with the center of the round, flaky vegetable. My eyes instantly started to burn. I wiped at them, trying to make the feeling go away. I noticed Abigail look over at me, I could only see her blurry outline because my eyes were watering too much. 

“What’s the matter with ya?” She asked, putting the crust in the oven and starting to mix together the premade box mixture. 

“The onions.” I managed to say through the burning. 

“Just sprinkle a tit-bit of water from that there tap.” She gestured to the sink. I turned around to the large metal sink and splashed cold water on my eyes. The pain started to ease and I could see clearly again. 

“Thanks.” I said, relieved. 

“Just a little farm trick.” Abigail winked at me. I felt my face blush and I immediately went back to chopping. 

We finally got lunch on five plates and brought them outside to a nice outdoor eating area with string lights and flowers everywhere, a red and white polkadot blanket on the ground, and a wooden picnic bench next to it. Johnny and the man that had been in the kitchen that morning were sitting at the table. Abigail put two plates down for them and a third one at an empty seat, then she sat on the blanket. 

“Sit.” She patted the spot next to her. I sat awkwardly and asked, 

“Who’s the fifth plate for?” 

“Oh!” Johnny chuckled, “That’s for my girlfriend. She lives across the street and comes over for lunch when she’s able.” 

Just then, as if Johnny had summoned her, a girl in a wheelchair came over to us. She had shockingly blond hair that way tied up in a tight ponytail. She wore a pink plaid shirt and dirty jeans. 

“Howdy y’all!” She smiled, I noticed she had braces and was missing a tooth. 

“Hi Jenny.” Johnny smiled. He immediately got up and helped her carefully to the table. I knew that just because people had wheelchairs doesn’t mean they can’t walk, so it didn’t surprise me that much when she stood up and went to the table. 

“Who's the new little pipsqueak?” Jenny asked, gesturing to me. 

“I’m Chloe, I’m here to learn the way of the land.” I smiled politely. 

“Well isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever did see.” Jenny said. She was very pretty. 

“Thanks?” I said awkwardly, taking a bite of my stew. Everyone around me laughed, I didn’t get what was so funny, but I didn’t say anything. 

“This stew is delicious. The vegetables are perfectly cut and mixed together.” The man, whose name I had yet to learn, said. “You have improved Abby. You’re ma would be very proud.” He smiled. I noticed he was missing several teeth. 

“It ain’t my stew pa.” Abigail sighed. “Chloe made it.” 

Everyone but Abigail looked at me. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know the man was Abigail’s father. What had happened to her mother? Why was everyone being so quiet? After a few seconds of silence, Abigail stood up. She was looking at the ground, I could hear her sniffing. 

“I’m going to clean my room pa. Enjoy your food.” Her voice was weak and quiet and she hurried off to the house. I stood up too and followed quickly. 

I climbed the wooden stairs and knocked on the rustic white door with the name Abby written on it in fancy handwriting. I knocked on the door softly. 

“You can come in.” Abigail responded from inside. I entered the small room, it  was quite similar to my own, soft peach colored walls, a small bed, a window and a vanity in the corner. Abigail was sitting on her bed holding something I couldn’t make out. 

“I’m sorry.” I said, closing the door behind me but not moving deeper into the room. I learned a lot about personal space growing up with my parents yelling at each other all the time. 

“You don't even know what you did.” Abigail sniffed, “Why are you apologizing?” 

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” I shrugged. 

“Why are you so perfect?” She asked angrily. 

“What?” I was taken aback. No one had ever called me perfect before. My parents taught me from a young age that everyone has flaws and no one is perfect. No one. Part of me thinks that they were using life lesions to insult each other subtly. “I’m not perfect.” I said. 

“Ain’t you?” Abigail looked me in the eyes and sighed. “You are up at the crack of dawn, you don’t complain, you know how to cook. You are so perfect.” 

“I’ve just learned that it’s not my place to complain and to always be punctual.” I shrugged. I guess I’ve always just supposed everyone knows you shouldn’t complain about things that aren’t in your control and to never be late, because there are consequences. 

“Exactly. That makes you perfect.” Abigail pointed out. 

“No. It doesn’t. It makes me nice and not annoying, but nobody's perfect. Not you, not Jenny, or Johnny or my family.” I smiled caringly. A warm feeling filled my body with care for this girl. 

“You know what would make you even nicer?” She asked me. I felt myself start to sweat and replied, 

“Yeah?” 

“If you agreed to go on a date with me.” 

She didn’t make eye contact, instead, she was looking at the small item in her hands. I had never gone on a date before. But I know I like girls, that’s never been a struggle for me.

“Sure.” I agreed. Abigail looked up at me and smiled. 

“Really?” She asked, standing up and walking over to me. 

“Yeah. Why not?” I smiled too. Abigail threw her arms around me in a tight embrace and whispered to me, 

“You really are perfect.” 

“So are you.” I whispered back. 

We held each other for a long while, neither of us wanted to let go of the happy feeling flowing through our bodies. 

THE END.