Chapter 5

Sooner than later, Spring came. Once it got there, I finally left the house to think things over. The snow vanished as quickly as it came. And once the ground was bare, I saw that the field was still waiting for someone to work on it. I spent a few hours looking high and low at the farm, and finally noticed that I did nothing. Of course I did nothing, that was the whole point; wasn't it?

As I stood in the center of the property, I scratched my head and recalled everything Elli told me. She just went on and on about me doing my best in the farm. Like a broken record or an annoying parrot. But I did spend over a week cooped up in my house thinking about the whole farming thing.

So I told myself, "Elli told me that I should work on the farm. Why? Is this farm that important to her?" No matter how much I tried, I came up with no answers. Then I turned my attention to the farm tools that were rusting next to the barn. I headed over there, and picked up the sickle. They were old, but still usable.

As I stared at the old sickle, I thought about my grandfather for the first time since I got there. I remembered him using the tools to clear the garbage like weeds and sticks off the field. Funny story: I remember pretending that I was the old man, and I swung the old sickle like if I was harvesting some grass for the animals.

Each tool has it's own unique use, the very same tools I use today for this farm. With those tools, my grandfather turned that wasteland into a thriving paradise. I didn't know if I had the ability to do the same. After all, I am his grandson, perhaps I had the inborn ability to do it too.

And so, I made the decision. I knew that I wasn't gonna like it. I was even convinced that I would hate it. But I needed to know why is Elli so obsessed with farm work. Why is it important to her. I felt that maybe the answer would slap me if I just tried. Even if it was only a little.

Of course, I was not willing to change that easily. An hour later, I was at the verge of giving up already. The tools were heavy, and the rust made them blunt. I could hardly cut anything with the ax and sickle. The hammer bounces off the bigger rocks, nearly smacked myself with it. The hoe was worthless too, damn thing gets stuck in the ground. The day was cool, but I was sweating like a pig. My breath and heartbeat were so fast, I could have passed out and died that day. Boy was I out of shape.

But I struggled and kept going for the whole day. By the end of that day, I only cleared out enough room to plant one bag of seeds. Problem was that I didn't have any seeds. I wasted so much money that first year that I hardly had anything left. I had to beg mom and dad for more. The money would take a week to get there, so I had some time to plan a new strategy.

The next day, I put my new idea into motion. Remembering the people who live here, there is an old man with an eight year old granddaughter that runs an animal ranch. What was it called? Yokel? Yodel? Model's? Bah, I can't remember, it's not important. What is important is that I needed his help to learn about field work. And what better candidate than an old man who has been doing this for what seems like a century or two?

When I got there, they were both hard at work. It did piss me off to see an eight year old doing work better than I can. But that was no time for bruised ego's. I needed help, and I was gonna get it. After all, he's as old as the hills, he must have known my grandfather when he was still alive. I can use that card against him too. But even so, I didn't want to forget that he is an old man, and the ride was not gonna be easy.

"Hey there old man," I called out. Now that I think about it, that was probably not a good idea.

The old man frowned at me and yelled, "The name is Barley sonny! And who may you be?"

"Sorry about that. My name is Kanon. I believe you've heard about me? I moved into the farm a few doors down last year."

His expression changed, "ah yes. Tony's grandson! How can I help you today? Have you finally come to buy one of my prize winning animals to raise in your farm? If you want a chicken, you'll need to visit the chicken ranch. You've passed it on the way here!"

"No, it's nothing like that. I came over to ask for some help in my farm. It's not doing so well right now."

Barley stroked his beard before answering, "aren't you a year too late to be asking for help, boy?"

I hated to admit it, but he was right. Naturally, I came up with one of my clever little fibs, "I thought that I could do it all by myself, but it didn't work out last year. I want to start over and learn from the best. That means you!"

He was intrigued. I had him eating off my hands for only a moment. Just like any man in the world, stroking or challenging his ego will get him to do what I want.

"I guess I can. After all, Tony was a good friend of mine. I couldn't let his grandson down."

"So you'll help," I asked.

He gave me that look of determination and answered, "starting tomorrow, I will train you on how to harvest the land. But I have to warn you, my training is a lot for a city slicking whipper snapper like you!"

I instantly got pissed off hearing that from the dried up old prune, but I had to eat it. I had to remember that this is an old balding man with white hair and a bad back. I still have my pride as long as I had my youth. But you can't blame me, I was not used to having old men calling me names.

The old man wakes me up at six in the morning sharp, not even the roosters were that punctual! I was not used to waking up so early, the earliest I ever woke up since I got there was ten in the morning; sometimes past noon. He then dragged me out of the house in my PJ's and all to show me the progress I've made. I tell you, he was not happy! He gave me a good hour long lecture before we got started. I couldn't pay attention to what he was saying, I was still half asleep.

The first thing he had me do is clear the weeds from the whole field. . . By hand! I am not kidding, I had a perfectly good sickle, but I was forced to pluck weeds with my bare hands. They got so dirty, and I was bleeding like crazy from the thorns and sharp leaves. Even so, the old man cracked that whip and made sure I kept my pace; bleeding and all.

Took me three days to clear the weeds, so now I had to work on the next part of the job. I had to gather the twigs by hand too. I gathered each one up, tied them together, and carried them off the field to be thrown away. Of course, it would be too easy if I didn't need to dig some of them out of the dried up tough dirt. Sweat, dirt, scabbing hands, I was already miserable.

Then I had to deal with the rocks. At least this time, he let me use tools to smash up the rocks into smaller manageable rubble. But I had to do the small ones first until I get my strength up. Then the medium sized ones which was about the size of a table. Then finish off with the huge six foot tall boulders that took forever to get rid of.

Weeks of work, and all the old man did was just sit around watching me with a straw in his mouth. I swear, I was saving up a punch just for him. Damn old man, I didn't feel like he was helping at the time. Just getting off of seeing me work like a mule.

My parent's money came while I was still working on the weeds. I was not allowed to spend it on anything but seeds. I was so mad; I asked for help, not for the old man to be like my dad! But at least when the field was ready, we had the money to buy seeds. The old man then taught me some crop formations so they can grow better. But like always, when the old man returned to his ranch, I just did whatever the hell I wanted. It's farm work, I just dug a few holes in the ground and watered the seeds. What could go wrong?

Things DID go wrong! The crops were ripe (more or less) around mid Spring. But when the old man came by, I tell you his face was priceless. Instead of getting healthy crops, I got these runt sized, ill shaped, pathetic excuses of turnip, potatoes, and cabbage. He looked at me hard with that stink eye. I didn't know at the time what I did wrong, I did water the plants. . . Most of the time at least. . .

"You know what your problem is sonny?" said the old man getting on my nerves. "You lack responsibility!"

"Leave me alone old man, I'm trying," I answered.

The old man stroked his white beard, "At this rate, you'll never be a successful farmer in time. Running this place needs love, care, and dedication. Crops are living things too, and we didn't even cover animals yet!"

I sighed. As much as I hated it, he was right. I didn't care about farming at all at that time. Farming was just a tool I was using to get the girl. But like everything else in my life, I didn't put my everything into it. I never had to before, how am I supposed to learn now? But can you blame me? You can't learn to be a true farmer over night. I cannot fake or lie my way through love and dedication.

After the old man went back home, I practically gave up. I did all that work, and I was in no way closer to my goal. Besides, I didn't notice any proof that Elli even noticed me trying. And pulling up mutated turnips was not helping either.

That night I stayed up way past midnight. I was not planning to do anymore work, so I didn't care. I laid there seriously considering going home. I planned to make up a story about how hard I tried. I would show off my scabbed hands, and mutated potatoes as proof. Then I would just go back to the life I was used to; playing games, hitting up the bars, and chasing women. But something inside was fighting against me. Something demanding that I stay. Elli was still on my mind, and my heart screamed to be with her.

I woke up late for the first time in weeks. I grabbed some boxes, and was ready to pack up. But I remember an odd noise stopping me. I took a look out the window, and found old man Barley outside in my farm with a pony. Curious to see what was happening, I put on my ranch clothes and stepped outside.

"Hey old man! What's the deal?"

My voice startled the pony. After thrashing around for a moment, the old man calmed it down and looked over to me. "This Pony was born last year on my ranch. I don't have enough room for another horse, so it's gonna live here from now on. Congratulation boy! You are now the proud owner of this young foal!"

My jaw dropped. "But. . .But. . . Didn't we just say yesterday that I can't care for crops!? And you're gonna just dump this animal on me? Did you flip your wig?"

He pets the horse's mane and says, "drastic times calls for drastic measures my boy. If this young horse can't teach you responsibility, nothing will!"

I don't know why, but I pretty much agreed to it. I mean, I didn't had to, I had no reason. I planned on leaving that god forsaken village until that horse came into my life. Even today, I have no clue what got into me that day. But I tell ya, that horse changed me.