Yellow-Bellied: This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us

The springing heifer started up around supper time. She dug at the ground and paced the corral, looking for a quiet spot away from the herd. Daddy moved her to the quarantine barn and told me he had learned to do this the hard way. Some years back, he explained, coyotes did something to a cow after she gave birth; something too terrible to say. I begged him to spill the beans, but he stood his ground. With a firm shake of the head, he placed his plate on the cast iron drainboard.

“Ope! Dirty ones go right in the sink, Dear!” Mama moved the plate to the basin with a clank­—a sound that indicated she had reminded him too many times. Then she wiped down the drainboard with a rag and straightened the towel underneath a load of drying pans. She shot a look at Daddy, but he was already by the backdoor, pulling on his work boots.

“Come on boys!” he called. “Time to check on her progress!” Billy, Everett, James and Graham obeyed immediately.

Mama was distressed by their frantic departure. She made all sorts of vocalizations under her breath, accepting the plates they handed her as they filed into the mudroom and put on their coveralls. The two of us did the dishes while the boys worked outside. They were still out there when we changed into our pajamas and brushed our teeth. Reading a book together in bed, I labored to relax enough to sleep and Mama was frustrated. Daddy and the boys were yelling about something in the barn. At one point, Daddy came inside and called Mama downstairs. When she returned, she reported that things weren’t progressing the way they should and he had to call Mr. Adler from down the road to come help.

I was worried. I had loved that heifer since she was born. Daddy hadn’t deemed her fit for breeding and intended for her to share a fate with the other steers and heifers that ended up at auction or in the deep freeze. When she turned eighteen-months, I was the one who insisted that he let her live. A daddy of four boys and one girl never can deny his daughter. My wish was granted on the condition that I take care of her. Nurture her, I did! I named her Blue-Sky, on account of her breed’s unusual color, and I spoiled her rotten. I took extra special care those last few months after she became a bred heifer.

In labor, she was distressed and calling out from within the barn. The structure shivered in February’s minty breath. The sky was made dark by a new moon, and the stars cast an even glow on the acreage that lay flat under hardened snow. It would be a peaceful scene if it weren’t for my worried brother, pacing back and forth outside the barn. We heard gravel crunching under tires and saw Mr. Adler’s high beams come up the drive. Billy ran toward the vehicle in this spotlight and opened the door before the neighbor came to a full stop. The headlights were left on and I could see that the two of them were carrying chains as they hurried toward the barn. The wind whistled, rousing ghost-like flurries over the fields. Mama shut the curtains and told me to lay back down.

In the morning, I flung the curtains to the side of the window and looked for clues. Was Blue-Sky okay? I could hear her high-pitched calls coming from the barn. Did the calf make it? I swallowed lead when I saw that the footprints in the driveway were stained red. I ran down the stairs and to the breakfast table, where the whole family was dining on steak and eggs. I looked at Daddy.

“The calf didn’t make it, but your girl is holding on.”

“Why is she crying so loud?”

“She’s been going on all morning,” James said, annoyed. He reached for a biscuit.

Blue-Sky continued on for days, crying out for her lost calf. Eventually, Daddy decided nothing was to be done except end it. Never before had I been affected by the death of one of our animals. It was the natural order of things. But to die of grief? I’d never seen that before. I was haunted by her sadness. Daddy reprimanded himself for letting me get too close to an animal and painted my room bright yellow to cheer me up. The color did lift my spirits and, over the years, I would retreat into my room whenever I felt I needed some cheer. It wasn’t enough to convince me to eat meat again though; I gave it up the day my favorite animal met her end.

Being a vegetarian on a beef farm is no easy feat. For years, I subsisted on mashed potatoes and corn. Mama would scoff when I refused a steak and shielded my eyes from the au jus that ran from theirs. People started saying I ate like a bird and Daddy advised I be careful; young ladies need their iron to make healthy babies. The memory of Blue-Sky, though, had made me adverse to two things. It was decided that, if I wasn’t going to grow our family or commit myself to the business, I best get an education.

# # #

At eighteen, the day before I was set to leave for college, Daddy and I went for a drive. He said I should test my command over the extra weight in the car and advised we stick to the gravel roads. That way, the paved ones would feel like butter the next day. We hadn’t driven far past Mr. Adler’s when we saw a woman walking alongside the road. A purple bra dangled loosely under her spaghetti-strap tank top. The shirt was tucked into a mini skirt and her feet were bare; she carried red wedges in her hands.

“Miss, your feet must be hurting from that gravel,” Daddy said, motioning for me to slow the car to a stop beside her. I thought of the bloody footprints in the snow the morning after Blue-Sky’s ill-fated delivery.

“Oh, thank God!” The woman grabbed the side of Daddy’s opened window and he leaned back toward me. “Can I get a ride?”

Daddy looked at the back seat, cluttered with my belongings. “I’m sorry Miss, we really haven’t the room.” She let go of the window with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. Only half of it still remained pinned back. “That doesn’t mean we can’t help you,” he added.

“Yeah, I really think I can squeeze in.” She eyed the back seat. “I just really have to get out of here! You see, my boyfriend’s car broke down over there.” She pointed toward the paved route that ran east-west about a mile away. “It’s a real classic beauty. Red, like my shoes!” She held up her wedges.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“I really just need to get to a phone. I’d hate to leave a thing of beauty sitting out on the road like that. Thing is, these corn fields got me all turned around and I don’t know which way is town.”

“Well, I guess I can make some room.” Daddy went for his door but, before he had a chance to pull the handle, the woman opened the back and snaked her way around a box.

“This will do.” She said.

We turned around to face her and took in the sight: lipstick smeared into a sneer across cheeks, unfocused eyes, shaking hands. We drove her to the only four-way stop in town; she talked incessantly all the while. Jumping from topic to topic, it was difficult to follow what she said. After she hopped out at the intersection, I stayed stopped there for a short while. We watched her walk down the block until she glanced over her shoulder at us. She quickened her pace and Daddy asked me to switch drivers.

“I reckon we better check on her vehicle.”

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as me. Had we done enough? Daddy took it slow, as if he were searching for clues in the fields. I’d heard plenty of stories about what was sometimes uncovered during the harvest. I did not want to hear more. That type of gossip was the reason I couldn’t walk to the barn alone at night. So, when Daddy rolled our windows down and drove on in silence, I focused on the sound of the corn rustling in the wind. We searched about every inch of that county road and didn’t find the red car or anything else out of the ordinary.

“A (wo)man’s worth is no greater than their ambitions,” Daddy said, steering the car toward home.

“Marcus Aurelius.”

He smiled and looked at me. “You remember?”

“Of course, I remember. I don’t think I’ll forget a single flashcard we did together.”

“Well, I hope it serves you well, Baby Girl.”

# # #

Ever since Blue-Sky lost her calf, I felt I understood grief. But with Daddy gone, I see now that I knew nothing except that losing someone can cause you to change everything about yourself. It’s like there’s this version of you that exists before loss and one that takes hold after. Your clone, in its rawness, does all kinds of things you never thought you would. That’s how I ended up coming back home to the farm after all those years away. You see, I’d never forgotten the woman walking the road the night before I left. It’s not good to be out alone, in the middle of nowhere, when things aren’t going well. There’s only one place, in the whole wide world, where I believe I can again feel happiness: the yellow room.

I had heard the place was a wreck; I just never drove out that way to see for myself. When I visited, I always stayed with whomever was putting up our folks at the time. With Daddy sick and Mama losing her mind, I guess they let some things go. That’s easy to do when you’re tired and no one is around to see you falling apart. The boys put their flags down all over the county, buying up acreage until our family’s Angus was known throughout the region. They bought up big old houses, closer to town where they can drink city water and hear the tornado sirens during storms.

Our folks moved in with James first, but there was no first floor bedroom and the stairs became a problem for Daddy’s knees. Everett took them in next, but Mama hated his wife’s cooking. They settled at Graham’s after that, but the experience at Everett’s had been too much for Daddy. I don’t think he ever recovered from the stress of seeing Mama so angry and confused at the same time. I came to live with my brother because Graham needed someone to look after the two of them while he mended fences and auctioned livestock. Plans to return to my satellite life got pushed, indefinitely.

I stuck around so long that, shortly after Daddy passed, one day I found myself promising to stay with an old friend until death-do-we-part. Mama and I moved in with my high school sweetheart but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. With Mama constantly asking about Daddy’s whereabouts, and her own for that matter, I decided the best thing was for her to finish her days out on the farm. That’s where we all learned a thing or two about life and death. I hope she will be able to relax, thinking that Daddy is just out futzing in the barn. Maybe she can stop asking about him then.

I can’t believe I couldn’t bring myself to come here until now. The room has that same warm feel, but everything else has changed: window screens torn, the rest of the house in ruin, view of the barn obstructed by overgrown brush. Long ago, the house was cleared of possessions, but two mirrors were left behind in here. One hangs on the wall and the other is propped on the floor in the opposite corner. It gives the illusion that my head is at one end of the room, while my feet are at the other.

“Well, aren’t you a vision in yellow!”

I turn to see my husband. His arms are secured on either side of the doorframe so that he can lean into the room for a kiss. I hate to admit how much I love the strength in his arms, made that way by a lifetime of farm work. I give him a little smooch.

“Come on, let’s get back. I’m starved and I got some steaks to sizzle.” He looks me up and down. “And you need your iron.” He puts his hands on my belly. It’s flat now, but he knows it won’t be long before I start showing.

He steps out, giving me a moment alone in my room. I see in the hanging mirror that I am, in fact, smiling. Though, I would have known without looking. I can feel it in my heart. I walk over to the mirror that is propped up on the floor and move it directly under the one hanging on the wall. There’s no reason for me to push away where I came from or the woman I ventured out to become. These two sides of me can live in alignment.

“Sweetie,” I call.

He pops his head back in and raises his eyebrows.

“The yellow stays.” I clap a hand against the wall and admire the color. “But everything else needs fixing.”

END