Page 16 of Whiskey Lullaby
The metal door to John’s workshop swung open and he strutted out with a gait a little reminiscent of John Wayne. He even had a cowboy hat on, which I expected him to tip at any second. “Good mornin’, Noah,” hesaid.
“Mornin’.”
The bang from the screen door of the house caught John’s attention, his gaze straying over my shoulder. “Aren’t you just bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” He smiled. “Noah, this is my son, Bo. Bo,Noah.”
A teenage boy begrudgingly stomped passed us through the grass, grunting something that sounded like a “hey” before he disappeared inside theworkshop.
“He’s not a morningperson.”
“I getit.”
“You’ll both be thankful we got an early start come noon when that sun’s beating down on you like the devil beats hiswife.”
I forced a smile, not certain whether I was supposed to laugh or not. I was never too sure how to act around a preacher. Bo stepped out of the shop with an edger slung over his shoulder, and he headed straight toward the sprawling field in front of theirhouse.
“Welp”—John hitched his Wrangler’s around his waist—“best be getting to it. I’m going to spread out some hay in the back field. How about you get on the John Deer and mow the land?” He pointed to a green tractor parked underneath one of the oaktrees.
The whir of the weed eater cranked up, silencing thecrickets
“Alright,” I said, and then he walked off. That was it. Mow the land. Simpleenough.
______
Not so simple enough. Hours later, that sun and the humidity was about to kill me. If you’ve never had the pleasure of mowing through Alabama grass that’s four feet high, you don’t understand the insane number of mosquitos that come out to feast on fresh blood. Sweat trickled over my brow, down my neck and back. I turned the tractor around. At least the grass clippings shooting up from the blade disturbed the swarm of gnats buzzing in front of myface.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun was sizzling on my skin. When I got to the gravel drive, I cut the engine, grabbed the crumpled bottle of water from my back pocket, and gulped half of it down in one swig.Damn Alabama summers arebrutal.
“Hey, Noah!” Bo called, holding up the edger. “Wanna trade?” His face was red, his shirt soaked through with sweat. I didn’t really want to, but I felt bad for him. He was just a scrawnykid.
“Sure.”
He crossed the field and handed the edger to me. “Thanks,man.”
By the time I passed through to the old pasture with the weed eater, Bo was already making his way back towardme.
My arms were blazing red from the overdose of sun, and the one thing I refused to have was a damn farmer’s tan. I dropped the edger to the ground and peeled my sweat-soaked shirt off, tucking it into the back of myjeans.
Plawck. Plawck. Plawck.Something wet and hot splattered my chest. I didn’t have to look down to know what it was. The overwhelming stench of manure wafted up, making my stomach twist. Shit was all overme...
“I’m sorry,” Bo said, but he was laughing. Hell, I couldn’t blame him. “I didn’t see that cow patty.”Like that makes it any better.He hopped off the lawnmower and motioned me across the field. “We can go hose youoff.”
“Yeah.” I tossed my head back. “Something…”
I followed him toward the house, swearing beneath my breath. That had to be an omen, I thought. Shit’s always a badomen.
Bo was still chuckling to himself when he ducked behind the azalea bushes to turn on the tap to the hose. Just as he emerged from the bushes with the hose aimed, John stepped out of the back door. “You boys need some…” John took one look at me before bending over in a laughing fit. “Well, son, you done gone and got yourself in a whole mess of dung, haven’tyou?”
I wanted to groan, but I swallowed that urge back and smiled. “Yes,sir.”
“I was about to hose him off,” Bosaid.
“That water’s too cold, plus won’t do much for that stench.” John’s nose wrinkled a little. “Why don’t you just come on in and washup.”
“It’s fine,” I said, motioning for Bo to squirt me with thehose.
“Aw, fiddlesticks,” John said. “Come on, I’ll fetch you some clean clothes of mine.” He glanced at the field before checking his watch. “It’s already gone half eleven. Might as well just get cleaned up and go on home for theday.”
“Yousure?”
