Fastest Girl In Town
Two.
When I arrived near the farm, I parked my truck out in the middle of a vacant field Boss Man owned. I then proceeded to the barn, got one of the horses, saddled him, and started off. I wasn’t allowed to drive my truck up to their house mansion. I was never told why, but I assumed it was because my truck was in awful condition and he couldn’t risk anybody seeing it and thinking it was his.
I had learned to ride the horses to his house; the house was very far from the fields. This was more of an estate than anything else, so the horses cut the time in more than a half.
My horse choice: Carver. He was a strong and fast horse. I typically used him on days where I wasn’t looking for a leisurely ride; days were I needed to be at the house ten minutes ago.
When Carver reached the house, I swung my legs off of him and sprinted toward the side door. Once I reached the door, though, I composed myself. The Boss Man did not like it when people looked frazzled and rushed. I doubted that I would even see Mr. Boss Man, but I had to be ready just in case.
I threw my hair up into a tidy bun, straightened out my shirt, and took a deep breath. I walked in, head held high, as if I was fifteen minutes early not late.
I made my way down two hallways to where the bulletin board was posted. This board was for every worker in the house whether farmer, cook, or maid. Even the grass cutters, who came only twice a week, had their own section.
Glancing at the schedule I saw that I was set to work alongside Marty this morning and Shake this afternoon. Most of the farmers tend to their own lands as well as Mr. Boss Man’s. This means they only come for a few hours a couple of days a week. It was almost like a part-time job for them. But is it really part-time if they are doing the exact same thing somewhere else? I guess it is more like having a job and having to go to a different location for part of it.
For me, though, it was a full-time job. I was there six days a week from 7am to 6pm. He was a little more lenient for me on Saturdays in case something pops up with my sisters. But on weekdays there was a no excuses policy.
I grabbed my task sheet for the day off the bulletin board. Essentially he had me do the same thing every day. Since he never really had any face to face contact with me or any of the workers, he put up these lists to inform us of any daily changes. The only time I ever spoke with him was at monthly update meetings and accidental run ins.
I glanced over the list and saw that today was just like any other day. I also noticed that Marty’s list was still up on the board. His daughter’s bus must have been late or something. I looked to both of my sides and, seeing that I was alone, snagged Marty’s list too. I knew he had a good reason for being late.
Quietly, I made my way back to Carver. We rode back to the barn a little slower than we had come. When we arrived, Marty was just saddling up another horse.
“Don’t worry about it. I grabbed your list for you,” I said, sliding down off of Carver.
“You are a lifesaver, truly. Molly’s bus never showed. I had to convince Geraldine to take her.”
Geraldine was the old, retired woman on the land next to Marty. She lived alone and was extremely rude and cranky in her old age. She wanted everything her way the first time around. She was demanding and unpleasant.
“And once Geraldine said yes you had to convince Molly that she wasn’t going to get murdered, right?” I laughed.
“Pretty much.” He took both of our saddles and put them away. “I don’t understand why she is so mean. Old people are crazy.”
Marty was only 24 and his wife 22. She was still in college, getting some useless degree. The so smart college girl got herself knocked up at age 16 and now has lovely Molly who was experiencing the first grade. She was loving every second of it, soaking in all the information. She would always recite her spelling words and numbers to me. It was so cute.
But I couldn’t help my mind from drifting. Soon enough, Molly would have more education than me. That would be strange. What if she started asking me about my fifth grade project? Or the seventh grade field trip? Or even high school? I wouldn’t be able to answer any of them.
I did not regret my decision to quit school and help out my family. I did not regret anything in my life. I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason. And each experience has shaped me into the person I am today. Also, you cannot change the past. So why dwell on it? If something bad happens, you learn from it and move on.
“So,” Marty started, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Ready to get started?”
“Better late than never,” I shrugged. And with that, the day started.
Around two o’clock that day I was working by myself hauling hay. Marty left at noon and Shake didn’t arrive until three. I really didn’t mind it. It gave me a chance to prioritize without someone else breathing down my neck.
I wiped a few beads of sweat from my forehead and shook hair out of my eyes. The radio was playing faintly in the background and I heard Carrie Underwood’s voice. I smiled and sung along. Soon enough I had abandoned my work and was only lying on the hay singing along. I didn’t have the best voice but it wasn’t awful either. It is pretty hard to be a bad singer in the South.
“I hope that I’m not interrupting,” said a stern voice behind me.
I gasped and straightened up. Mr. Boss Man was behind me not looking too pleased. I would have mimicked his actions had he not been my boss. He had just stopped my jam session. Should I have been working? Maybe. Would I finish anyway? No doubt about it. I’m awesome and I always finish with time to spare.
“Never interrupting, sir. I was just taking a quick break,” I replied. ’Something you should know a lot about seeing as you only work in 35 minute shifts with hour long breaks in between’ I thought bitterly. In case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Boss Man isn’t exactly my favorite person.
“You are on task, I hope,” he said, circling me like a shark attacking his prey. “I would hate to keep you late, without pay of course, because you couldn’t finish.” I could tell he didn’t care at all. He was just trying to be intimidating. And it wasn’t working at all. I was six times the man Boss Man was at the age of nine.
“Ahead of schedule, sir.” Not like you care, as long as it gets done and you don’t have to worry about it.’
“Good, good,” he murmured. I could tell he was out here for more than a status update. However, he just stood there in stolid silence for a few minutes.
“Anything in particular you need, sir?” I pressed, hoping he would get on with it. I tried to sound respectful, but it almost came out impatient and pissed off.
“Now that you mention it, yes.” He paused, surveying the scene. ’Won’t find anything wrong,’ I sang in my head. “You’ve been working for me for how many years now?”
“Three, sir.” Three long, back breaking years of labor.
“Yes, three. Of course. Well, you Miss Edwards are one of the best farmers around these parts. I am honored to call you one of my own. You get better each and every year that you work here. I appreciate that.”
“Thank you, sir.” I had no idea where this was going. Nor did I really care. I just wanted him to leave so I could continue with my work. I leaned all my weight on my right leg and cocked out my hip. My teenage attitude was about to break through.
He waved off my thanks. “I’ve always wanted to be the one to work my land. But with my condition, I just can’t,” he mused.
His “condition” was asthma. It is completely treatable. He is just too lazy and rich to work his own land. So that’s why he hired me.
“I’ll never work the land, but I would like a piece of me out here. What I’m getting at, Miss Edwards, is my son. He was recently kicked out of his sixth boarding school and I think some old fashioned home learning will do him some good. I’m sending him to the public school nearby for his senior year. Classes don’t begin until 8:30. I was hoping that you could work with him for about an hour each morning before he goes in? Maybe you could teach him the basics?”
I was shocked. Boss Man’s son had never lived here. Boss Man only moved here ten years ago and his son was in some boarding school then too. He had never set foot on a farm. He didn’t have any knowledge of anything Southern.
“Then,” Boss Man continued, “as the year progresses, after classes and on Saturdays he could join you as well?”
I knew it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command in question form. It was something new on the task list to do. You know. Feed the chickens, collect eggs, bring round the cows, teach the stupid son, cut firewood, check the garden… I felt like freakin’ Cinderella or something. They didn’t care about me at all, just the chores they needed done. Rich people never did.
“Sounds marvelous, sir.” Actually, it sounded just as marvelous as having one of those yellow-spotted lizards, you know from the book Holes, chewing out my inners and slowly killing me. Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but whatever.
“Glad you agree. He comes home Thursday. I’m giving him the weekend to become acquainted with the area and people.”
Three and a half days to see the town and all? Really? It’s not that big of a place. It would take him all of two hours to see the town. Was the rest of the time allotted to explore the house? Was it really that big? Or was the son just so lazy that he moves at a snails pace? So many possibilities!
“He will start school and work with you on Monday. I will, of course, pay you extra for the training. He can be a bit much sometimes.” And I can promise all of you that his “extra pay” would mean like one extra dollar an hour. He’s a big spender, right?
“Not to step out of line, sir,” I started. ’But I think you are a whack job and your son better not come anywhere near me.’ Okay, I didn’t say that, although it was bursting to come out of me. “Don’t you think he would do better with a male superior, not a female peer? We are the same age. May he not do better with Marty? Or possibly Lucas?”
“He might. However you are the best hand around and are here everyday. So it will be you.” There was no more talking about it. I was going to have to do this.
“Yes, sir. What you wish.”
“Splendid. I will bring him round here on Saturday so you may meet. Until then.”
Boss Man walked away and I let out a large exhale. Next week would be dead awful, thanks to the all impressive Boss Man. He really did not care if I was at a disadvantage. As long as he got his son out of his hair and out of his way. I better get all of my work done this week to clear portions of my schedule for Mr. Son Boy.
I had learned to ride the horses to his house; the house was very far from the fields. This was more of an estate than anything else, so the horses cut the time in more than a half.
My horse choice: Carver. He was a strong and fast horse. I typically used him on days where I wasn’t looking for a leisurely ride; days were I needed to be at the house ten minutes ago.
When Carver reached the house, I swung my legs off of him and sprinted toward the side door. Once I reached the door, though, I composed myself. The Boss Man did not like it when people looked frazzled and rushed. I doubted that I would even see Mr. Boss Man, but I had to be ready just in case.
I threw my hair up into a tidy bun, straightened out my shirt, and took a deep breath. I walked in, head held high, as if I was fifteen minutes early not late.
I made my way down two hallways to where the bulletin board was posted. This board was for every worker in the house whether farmer, cook, or maid. Even the grass cutters, who came only twice a week, had their own section.
Glancing at the schedule I saw that I was set to work alongside Marty this morning and Shake this afternoon. Most of the farmers tend to their own lands as well as Mr. Boss Man’s. This means they only come for a few hours a couple of days a week. It was almost like a part-time job for them. But is it really part-time if they are doing the exact same thing somewhere else? I guess it is more like having a job and having to go to a different location for part of it.
For me, though, it was a full-time job. I was there six days a week from 7am to 6pm. He was a little more lenient for me on Saturdays in case something pops up with my sisters. But on weekdays there was a no excuses policy.
I grabbed my task sheet for the day off the bulletin board. Essentially he had me do the same thing every day. Since he never really had any face to face contact with me or any of the workers, he put up these lists to inform us of any daily changes. The only time I ever spoke with him was at monthly update meetings and accidental run ins.
I glanced over the list and saw that today was just like any other day. I also noticed that Marty’s list was still up on the board. His daughter’s bus must have been late or something. I looked to both of my sides and, seeing that I was alone, snagged Marty’s list too. I knew he had a good reason for being late.
Quietly, I made my way back to Carver. We rode back to the barn a little slower than we had come. When we arrived, Marty was just saddling up another horse.
“Don’t worry about it. I grabbed your list for you,” I said, sliding down off of Carver.
“You are a lifesaver, truly. Molly’s bus never showed. I had to convince Geraldine to take her.”
Geraldine was the old, retired woman on the land next to Marty. She lived alone and was extremely rude and cranky in her old age. She wanted everything her way the first time around. She was demanding and unpleasant.
“And once Geraldine said yes you had to convince Molly that she wasn’t going to get murdered, right?” I laughed.
“Pretty much.” He took both of our saddles and put them away. “I don’t understand why she is so mean. Old people are crazy.”
Marty was only 24 and his wife 22. She was still in college, getting some useless degree. The so smart college girl got herself knocked up at age 16 and now has lovely Molly who was experiencing the first grade. She was loving every second of it, soaking in all the information. She would always recite her spelling words and numbers to me. It was so cute.
But I couldn’t help my mind from drifting. Soon enough, Molly would have more education than me. That would be strange. What if she started asking me about my fifth grade project? Or the seventh grade field trip? Or even high school? I wouldn’t be able to answer any of them.
I did not regret my decision to quit school and help out my family. I did not regret anything in my life. I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason. And each experience has shaped me into the person I am today. Also, you cannot change the past. So why dwell on it? If something bad happens, you learn from it and move on.
“So,” Marty started, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Ready to get started?”
“Better late than never,” I shrugged. And with that, the day started.
###
Around two o’clock that day I was working by myself hauling hay. Marty left at noon and Shake didn’t arrive until three. I really didn’t mind it. It gave me a chance to prioritize without someone else breathing down my neck.
I wiped a few beads of sweat from my forehead and shook hair out of my eyes. The radio was playing faintly in the background and I heard Carrie Underwood’s voice. I smiled and sung along. Soon enough I had abandoned my work and was only lying on the hay singing along. I didn’t have the best voice but it wasn’t awful either. It is pretty hard to be a bad singer in the South.
“I hope that I’m not interrupting,” said a stern voice behind me.
I gasped and straightened up. Mr. Boss Man was behind me not looking too pleased. I would have mimicked his actions had he not been my boss. He had just stopped my jam session. Should I have been working? Maybe. Would I finish anyway? No doubt about it. I’m awesome and I always finish with time to spare.
“Never interrupting, sir. I was just taking a quick break,” I replied. ’Something you should know a lot about seeing as you only work in 35 minute shifts with hour long breaks in between’ I thought bitterly. In case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Boss Man isn’t exactly my favorite person.
“You are on task, I hope,” he said, circling me like a shark attacking his prey. “I would hate to keep you late, without pay of course, because you couldn’t finish.” I could tell he didn’t care at all. He was just trying to be intimidating. And it wasn’t working at all. I was six times the man Boss Man was at the age of nine.
“Ahead of schedule, sir.” Not like you care, as long as it gets done and you don’t have to worry about it.’
“Good, good,” he murmured. I could tell he was out here for more than a status update. However, he just stood there in stolid silence for a few minutes.
“Anything in particular you need, sir?” I pressed, hoping he would get on with it. I tried to sound respectful, but it almost came out impatient and pissed off.
“Now that you mention it, yes.” He paused, surveying the scene. ’Won’t find anything wrong,’ I sang in my head. “You’ve been working for me for how many years now?”
“Three, sir.” Three long, back breaking years of labor.
“Yes, three. Of course. Well, you Miss Edwards are one of the best farmers around these parts. I am honored to call you one of my own. You get better each and every year that you work here. I appreciate that.”
“Thank you, sir.” I had no idea where this was going. Nor did I really care. I just wanted him to leave so I could continue with my work. I leaned all my weight on my right leg and cocked out my hip. My teenage attitude was about to break through.
He waved off my thanks. “I’ve always wanted to be the one to work my land. But with my condition, I just can’t,” he mused.
His “condition” was asthma. It is completely treatable. He is just too lazy and rich to work his own land. So that’s why he hired me.
“I’ll never work the land, but I would like a piece of me out here. What I’m getting at, Miss Edwards, is my son. He was recently kicked out of his sixth boarding school and I think some old fashioned home learning will do him some good. I’m sending him to the public school nearby for his senior year. Classes don’t begin until 8:30. I was hoping that you could work with him for about an hour each morning before he goes in? Maybe you could teach him the basics?”
I was shocked. Boss Man’s son had never lived here. Boss Man only moved here ten years ago and his son was in some boarding school then too. He had never set foot on a farm. He didn’t have any knowledge of anything Southern.
“Then,” Boss Man continued, “as the year progresses, after classes and on Saturdays he could join you as well?”
I knew it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command in question form. It was something new on the task list to do. You know. Feed the chickens, collect eggs, bring round the cows, teach the stupid son, cut firewood, check the garden… I felt like freakin’ Cinderella or something. They didn’t care about me at all, just the chores they needed done. Rich people never did.
“Sounds marvelous, sir.” Actually, it sounded just as marvelous as having one of those yellow-spotted lizards, you know from the book Holes, chewing out my inners and slowly killing me. Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but whatever.
“Glad you agree. He comes home Thursday. I’m giving him the weekend to become acquainted with the area and people.”
Three and a half days to see the town and all? Really? It’s not that big of a place. It would take him all of two hours to see the town. Was the rest of the time allotted to explore the house? Was it really that big? Or was the son just so lazy that he moves at a snails pace? So many possibilities!
“He will start school and work with you on Monday. I will, of course, pay you extra for the training. He can be a bit much sometimes.” And I can promise all of you that his “extra pay” would mean like one extra dollar an hour. He’s a big spender, right?
“Not to step out of line, sir,” I started. ’But I think you are a whack job and your son better not come anywhere near me.’ Okay, I didn’t say that, although it was bursting to come out of me. “Don’t you think he would do better with a male superior, not a female peer? We are the same age. May he not do better with Marty? Or possibly Lucas?”
“He might. However you are the best hand around and are here everyday. So it will be you.” There was no more talking about it. I was going to have to do this.
“Yes, sir. What you wish.”
“Splendid. I will bring him round here on Saturday so you may meet. Until then.”
Boss Man walked away and I let out a large exhale. Next week would be dead awful, thanks to the all impressive Boss Man. He really did not care if I was at a disadvantage. As long as he got his son out of his hair and out of his way. I better get all of my work done this week to clear portions of my schedule for Mr. Son Boy.