Papaw's Farm

When I was a girl, I would burrow under my quilt at night during the cool, humid summer nights on papaw’s farm. It was so different from the city. I would lie awake to hear the unfamiliar lullabies of the crickets, and the choir of deafening cicadas on those evenings. It was like I was in a different world. A magical one where the day would give way to another world at night. During one of those summers growing up, I remember the wonder I felt at hearing the hoot of an owl for the first time.

Owls were things which lived in forests in storybooks, not my backyard. But there it was. Hooting in that haunting way that owls do, right outside papaw’s farm somewhere in the trees. I never saw it, but I knew with certainty that if I waited just a bit past my bedtime every night, I’d hear the magical sound of his call.

I haven’t been back to the family farm in ages, ever since I graduated from university. After papaw passed away it was difficult, he started recognizing us less and less as time went by. The last time I visited in my junior year he didn’t remember he had a granddaughter. I refused to go back after that. My papaw, the trees, the farm, the sounds of my girlhood - they were gone. It felt like visiting a tomb.

I currently stood in my daddy’s kitchen in the suburbs, pouring over job openings on the west coast when he tapped on my head.

“Hey sweetie”

“Hi daddy! I brought some jam from Mrs. Caldwell's, she said the strawberries were as sweet as sugar this year, she barely had to add any for the jam.”

“Yes, she was harping on about that all summer, drove me nuts.” he said as he plopped brown paper bags filled to the brim with squashes. He began taking them out one by one, lining them up like they were for sale.

“Now Violet, I think we should make some pumpkin pie for your mother tonight, but I need you to choose the sacrificial squash for tonight. Ask the oracle which pumpkin is the Chosen One.”

I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “Dad, do you still believe I got magic powers?”

“I wasn’t aware you thought you lost them!”

I laughed. “I haven’t chosen a pumpkin since high school.”

“All the more reason you should choose one now. Besides, your mom has an uncanny ability to know whether you’ve chosen it or not. Every time I’ve chosen the pumpkin she finds a different way to tell me it ain’t right. So before I waste my time, I need you to cast a lot on these pumpkins if you will.” he said, presenting the line up of green, white, misshapen and rounded squash from the local patch.

“Alright daddy, i think...this one!” I said, pointing to the green and yellow warty one which didn’t look ready to eat at all. He grimaced.

“Whatever you say, your third eye never lies.” he said, grabbing the pumpkin and giving it it’s rightful place on the kitchen counter.

“I see you're looking for work.” he said, facing the window to the yard as he chopped.

“Yeah, I'm seeing some good journalism positions in Santa Ana. Can you imagine being so close to the beach daddy? You and momma can visit me and have a vacation!”

“Honey, you know me and your momma aren’t gonna vacation, not while the farm needs handlin’ ” I looked up from my computer and saw him lose his grip on the squash, the knife having a hard time cutting through.

“Careful daddy - Can’t you get some hired hands for a week or two? Papaw’s farm hasn’t been profitable for ages, I still think you should sell it.”

Daddy put the knife down and his shoulders fell. He still faced the yard.

“You know selling the farm ain’t that easy Violet. I don’t understand.” he turned towards me. “You love that place, why are you always telling us to sell? That was your favorite place growing up and now you want to go out West?”

“Daddy, it’s just something new, and I don’t like seeing you and momma working so hard is all.” I said, while quickly shutting my laptop and packing it in my bag. “Anyway, I still got some work I gotta do for these applications, see ya for dinner?”

“Wait, Violet, I got something to say.” he stood leaning against the kitchen counter with both arms gripping the edge beside him.

I stopped and looked at his furrowed brows. He began to speak a few times and stopped himself. Then, resigned, began.

“Yes, your momma and I work very hard, and I moved to the city when I was your age. I understand why you want to experience something new.” he said.

“Look, the farm ain’t doing great. I don’t think anyone ever loved the place as much as you did anyway, Your granddaddy always said he wanted to give it to you.”

“What?!” I shouted. “ Now hold on just a minute, thats crazy talk.”

“It ain’t crazy talk. You should have seen yourself as a kid running round that land. It’s as if you’d spend a day in the fields and the crops would grow an extra inch over night. You’d sing to the flowers and the animals would follow you around. He knew how much you loved it, he even thought you had some - well, that’s not here nor there, but, Violet, if you don’t plan on staying here I think me and your momma will have to sell. We just won’t have another option.” he turned towards his squash again. “You just have a way with the land we don’t got. But I understand your need to do something new. We can hold on for a while, in case you want it. But although I don’t want to do it, selling is in the future. Something to think about love.”

He didn’t turn to face me, just kept preparing the squash. I hurried out of the kitchen.

- 2 -

In late winter, I went to California. Felt the mild cold winds during the day, tempered by the cloudless sunny skies. The boardwalks by the ocean were teeming with life, people from all different places gathering to eat tacos by the ocean. Dolphins lept out of the pacfic waters and a sea lion tried to climb aboard my kayak and damn near scared me to death. It was magic in a way I hadn’t experienced before. Sounds I’d never heard. Scents I’d never smelled. All the fruit tasted awful though for some reason. My friend Hannah from college came with me on this discovery trip and said every papaya, avocado and berry she placed on her tongue was an explosion of sunny flavor she’d never experienced. All the fruits I picked from the farmer’s market were anti-climactic. Something I hadn’t expected from the rich soil of California.

“Violet, the second you get a job offer, take it! Don’t think twice, California is a dream.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” I wondered, as we sat outside in our shorts on that January morning.

“Uh, yes. Can you Imagine your momma tanning by the beach in a bikini?” We burst out laughing at that. My momma wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but overalls.

We spent the rest of the day spending money we didn’t have and muddling through traffic. It was glorious. The nighttime rituals of home were nonexistent here - no thinking about the heater, no animals to feed, no waking up at six am to begin a work day. Just pure leisurely bliss. The day gave way to night in the Cali desert and soon I was lulled to sleep.

I was keenly aware I was dreaming in that way one knows. I stood before the la Jolla cliffs I’d seen that day, watching the ocean before me and feeling inexplicably cold. Cold like home. Snow and slush seeping the warmth right out of my skin and begging me to go inside. I turned around and I was in my bedroom in papaw’s house. My little table lamp on and shining onto my colorful homemade quilt on the twin bed I slept in every summer. I climbed into bed to rid myself of the chill. The noises started. Low groans from the toads out by the lake. Singing cicadas starting to strum their legs together in their special song. Leaves suddenly rustled, as if small creatures were scurrying by in the woods. I felt an anticipation I hadn't felt in years. An expectation of something child-like and wonderful. Then it was there. The hoot.

I looked out the window of my tiny room and saw the owl sitting on the window ledge, staring back at me with it’s huge eyes. It was a tawny white color, almost silver against the moonlight. It opened it’s sharp beak and a voice emanated from it’s mouth which i heard as if whispered against my ear:

“I remember”

And it flew away.

- 3 -

When I got back to Virginia, after an emotional last day in California, I immediately called up daddy and asked him if I can visit him on the farm. The shock nearly floored him and I laughed all the way up the drive of papaw’s house. The white picket fence stretched for miles all the way to the big, white house. The sheep and the horses greeted me enthusiastically. Even the winter squash looked welcoming. Daddy showed me around the new crops and baby livestock which had been born earlier that spring. I told daddy I’d help him in the morning bright and early, in fact, I’d stay the night with him and momma.

The owl which I was never able to spot became a common site on the farm. Hooting every night and watching me from whatever branch was nearby. The crops grew, the animals thrived and my papaw made sure I saw him every day.