High Noon

Nothin' violates your rights more than the creepin' mid-day sun in mid-June, especially if you workin’ outdoors. When I woke up this mornin', Mama told me it was my birthday. She has her own way of rememberin' that kinda thing. I think the way she tracks my birthday is by the way the sun sets, or doesn’t, rather. She always tells me I was born on the longest day of the year, and the hottest accordin' to her memory, but all the pregnant ladies are always sweatin’, never complainin’ though. “Complainin' don’t do nothin’ but make you hotter and make you in trouble ‘round here,” Mama says.

The days feel long to me no matter what day it is, and they all feel the same to me, too. Same routine, same fields, same ol' scorchin' sun. I don’t mind the work so much, if it weren’t for that damn sun. But even with the long days (my birthday the longest, bein' the solstice and all), I still look forward to it, but not for reasons you might think. I like my birthday because I know every day after that the sun sets a little sooner, until that one day it starts to set later again. And even if the days don’t feel shorter, I know they are shorter and that counts for somethin’. 

I slipped up and got to thinkin’ today was my lucky day. Then I changed my mind and got to thinkin’ "God must love me,” because it’s what I know better than I know luck. I got to knowin’ God loves me because today at noon, when the sun is highest in the sky and most always attackin’ me, a shadow fell on my head. I flinched at first out of instinct ‘til I realized it was just a single cloud coverin' up the whole sun. I felt the cool wind blow my sweat drenched shirt just as the sun hid from the open sky. A luxury we ain’t often afforded out here. I felt spoiled in a way, like I was gettin' somethin' I didn’t deserve. This cloud had rescued me, but I was never made to believe anything should.

When I looked up, I noticed this cloud was different from the usual clouds. The way it stayed still, not movin', not even a little bit. Like it was hung there on purpose by a hammer and nail. It took its time in front of the sun like it was there for my own sake. It wasn’t floatin' like regular clouds, and it didn’t have no other cloud friends either. It was alone but not frail. It didn’t need no company to help cover up the unforgivin' sun.

My neck started to hurt, but I stared anyway, and I imagined that cloud was sent to me by God like some sort of birthday gift, or some sort of protection at the time and place I feel most exposed. I liked feelin' safe, lookin’ up at that cloud. It was like He was sendin' the thing which haunts me…to protect me. Maybe God’s funny like that…I mean this cloud was white-white and popped off the blue sky like fresh cotton on the stalk. A big ol' cotton cloud, takin' its time just so I could have a moment of relief.

This cloud, and the moment of bliss it offered to me and everyone else out on the field workin’, reminded me of a prayer Mama says all the time, one of the sayings she learned from the church service she sneaks into every once in a while: “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.”

I never knew what that meant or why she repeated it whenever we were sick or someone got hurt in the field, or when I got scared at night in my sleep, but I think I know what it means now after today. I’m thinkin’ the shadow is the protection. The shadow is what God sends to give relief, if even for a cool moment. If this is the shadow that prayer is talkin’ 'bout, then I do want to abide in it.

It’s not good to take breaks out there, especially at mid-day when the end of the day is next on the schedule, but I gave in to the fluffy white temptress. It felt too nice not to. To be tellin’ the truth, I forgot where I was for a minute. Lookin’ up at the sky, feelin’ real safe and protected, I felt like I was somewhere I never been except for in my dreams. I was in the place that my Mama’s Gran was from. She would tell Mama 'bout it when I was little, but I still remember her stories now and again. It was a place where she worked when she was even younger than me, but she worked for her daddy on his farm. His farm was far away she said, across the ocean, which I ain’t never seen. Most importantly, it was the place she was free to run and sing and dance when she wanted. She had her family, and they had their celebrations…maybe even birthdays. I try to ask questions, but Mama doesn’t like talkin' 'bout it nomore because she don’t like thinkin’ ‘bout stuff that won’t be. But I tell you, that cloud took me there today.

I don’t know how much time passed by, but that cloud started movin' again, and when it did, I didn’t. I watched carefully as this loyal companion of mine set out for its new course, and I was now the one that resisted. Little by little, the sun poked out from behind that gigantic piece of cotton, and I kept on lookin’ and dreamin’ and imaginin' all before the moment escaped me forever. 

When that big ol’ ball of fire showed its face again, the sudden actuality of life landed on mine, and that fairytale drifted from me. That cloud was armor for me more than I knew ‘cause as the sun traded places with it, a familiar sound had whipped the air followed by a crack that sent me right to my knees. It was Jameson, the field overseer, who caught me satisfied and away from my work. 

The day will be just a little shorter tomorrow, and I’ll be sure to keep my head a little lower, but with the merciful Man upstairs and all, maybe I’ll see my friend again.