Page 2 of True North

When each pass over the teats only produces a slow dribble, I grab the bucket and give Mabes a rub on the neck. I shift the stool onto the small rack overhead and untie her lead from the bar by the feed trough. She chews away, oblivious to the world, as I shut the gate behind me and head for the house.

A small two-bedroom weatherboard house with wood stumps sits in the center of the front yard, all that separates our small allotment from the road that leads into Lewistown. I walk up the back steps, careful with the old screen door. Taking my boots off, I carry the pail to the kitchen. No sign of the alcoholic, and I smile when I find Ma setting the table for breakfast. Lucky to make five-eight, her dark hair is twisted and pinned up, a little silver in the mix. Her fine features carry a weathering of fine lines. But her eyes carry more life than they should, considering the sorry existence we make do under.

“Mornin’, Ma.” I lean over, dotting a kiss to her hair before dumping the bucket on the small kitchen counter that is the centerpiece of this tiny kitchen.

“Mornin’, love. How’s Mabes?” She shakes a tablecloth out and watches it settle. With slow, quiet steps—that I’m sure she learned from needin’ to keep outta the old man’s way—she opens the china cabinet, sliding out two plates for breakfast.

“Two?” I ask. The eggshells we both walk on grind in my throat.

“Your father is asleep on the front porch.”

“He can damn well stay there,” I mutter. I hope he passes out for the rest of the day. God forbid he be sober tonight. I need it to go perfect. I’m not dealin’ with him. Over my dead body is he gettin’ anywhere near Lou.

“Grab the bacon and eggs, will you?” Ma asks. Her hands shake as she rests the plates on the table. A lifetime of the stress of living with the man who makes our lives hell most days of the week, now taken its toll. And I fuckin’ hate it.

What I wouldn’t do to change that for her.

I do what I can. Get between them when he’s in a particularly bad mood. He’s outta luck these days. I’m bigger than him. Stronger from carryin’ the workload of two men. Last time he took a swing at me, he missed and fell on his ass. I didn’t bother helpin’ him up. Despite Ma’s pleas for me to take care of him.

“Harry, those eggs are goin’ to go cold quick.”

“Shit, sorry, Ma.”

“Language, my boy.” She scolds me with a small frown. Even her discipline is gentle. How she ever ended up with Eddy Rawlins is beyond me. I thank my lucky stars every day that I take after my mother’s likeness, personality, and features. I bring the food to the table and sit on my side as she sinks into her seat. Her thin hand brushes her dark hair over her forehead as she tucks it behind one ear.

“All set for this evening?” she asks, cutting her bacon. The mismatched cutlery, tarnished, makes for hard going.

“Think so. Can I take the truck? Pickin’ up Lou.”

“Oh, that makes my heart happy. She is the sweetest girl. A good head on her shoulders, make for a good wife.”

I stare at her, mid-chew.

Did she find the ring in my dresser drawer when she was doing laundry or something? Changing the subject, I point to the eggs. “Nice and hot still.”

She gives me a small, all-knowing smile and simply nods before returning her attention to her breakfast. With the last bite down, I pour her coffee from the small coffee jug. Adding a little of Mabes’s offering for this morning, I slide it across the table to her. She takes it with a sigh.

“I’m serious, Harry. I won’t be around forever. Louisa is wonderful. She’s full of life, strong, and I’ve seen the way you look at her. Please understand, it’s not every day you find that kind of love.”

“I do, Ma.” The words are heavy. I swallow the stone wedged tight down with my coffee. She pats my hand, giving me her please-consider-this look.

“Chores are waitin’.” I stand and take her plate, dunking the both of them in the hot suds she has ready.

“Could you drive me to town later? I need more flour, sugar, etc.,” Ma says from the table.

“After lunch, okay?” I look over my shoulder.

“Sounds good to me.” She smiles softly at me. If she was allowed to have a license, she could drive herself. After I teach her to drive, I suppose. Maybe one day.

I wash up and head for the field. We need another few head of cattle sold this week in the store sale to cover next month’s expenses and still give me enough to stack flat for our leavin’. Business was never something that interested me, but it’s surprising what you can learn out of pure necessity. I’ll work my fingers to the bone, if it means I can build a better life for Ma.

And hopefully, for Lou...

* * *

Ma wiggles the tie around my neck. I swear she cut off my air supply. I tug at it as she steps back, checking me over. Her hands clap in front of her face.

“Oh, darlin’, you look so handsome.”

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