Farmer Allegory

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A farmer has to plant his corn crops

Submitted: December 18, 2011

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Submitted: December 18, 2011

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Peering out the high attic window, Abraham looked at the surrounding farmland, already planted with the corn crops for the upcoming season. He slowly walked across the old wood floor that produced a long high squeak with every step and then ducked under the low beam to look at his own untilled land. Abraham laughed at his fellow neighbors for planting so early, this far north, he knew there still would be one more frost. He lifted his callused hands off the rusty windowsill and slowly combed them through his thinning grey hair, while turning away from the window, ducking his head as he went to the narrow stairwell. Very slowly, since the many years of working the land made his body creak, just like the old floors, he walked down the steep staircase one at time gripping tightly onto the dusty railing. When finally reaching the soft-carpeted landing into the upstairs hallway, he heard the doorbell ring downstairs. He quickly turned off the attic light, shut the door, and pulled the lock. Going as fast as he could go with his left leg limping due to a tractor accident last year. He walked to the next staircase and into the living room.

He could smell the eggs and bacon cooking in the adjacent kitchen that his wife cooked every morning from the daily collected eggs from the chicken, and the weekly slaughtered pig. He grunted slightly as he pulled open the heavy front door.

“Hello,” Abrahams closest neighbor said, with his two teenage sons standing on either side carrying shovels. “We saw that you didn’t plant any crops yet, and we thought we would offer you some help.”

“Well,” Abraham said slowly, “the winter this year has been a rough one with all that snow, so I want to give my land a little more time to thaw.”

“All right, we just wanted to make sure. If you ever need anything we only live half-a-mile down the road.” His neighbor said while Abraham was slowly closing the door on them. “We’ll see you Sunday at church, I can’t wait to taste your wife’s apple pie,” rushed his neighbor, and with that, the three men walked quickly to the road and back to their home.

Abraham couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when the weather dropped again. He then went into the kitchen to eat the daily meal.

“It sure is a hot one today, isn’t it Abe?” His wife mentioned as a side note. She too believed that Abe was waiting too long to plant. 

“It sure is.” He said while chewing on the browned buttered boast. After breakfast, Abraham went outside to make sure that he had all of the seeds needed to plant the corn. With a large grunt, he sat down in the middle of the field. He didn’t believe in using the long-term forecasts or looking at the satellite images. He knew the best way to tell when to plant was by becoming one with the soil.  Lying completely flat on the ground, he gazed up at the blue sky with the white fluffy clouds in various shapes spotting the sky. “One more week,” he said aloud. Slowly he turned onto his side and rolled into a seating position. Putting his tanned arms above his said, he hoisted himself upwards, brushed off the dirt and started the long trek back to his old white farmhouse.

In the middle of the night, the sweat dripping down his forehead awakened Abraham. In his half awake and half asleep mind he thought that this kind of heat didn’t happen until a long time after he planted his crops. All of sudden, he sat up in bed. He walked down the staircase as fast as he could go and turned on the computer that his eldest son bought him. He wiped the dust away from the keys, and after it turned on he checked the weather. In big bold red letters, he read that there was a heat wave coming to Iowa.

Even though it was the middle of the night, Abraham realized he couldn’t wait anymore to plant the corn. He walked to the barn, with no light except for the stars. Once inside, he turned on the dim lights and started pacing back and forth between the fertilizer, and the limited pesticides he used on his crops. After, he was all ready to go and till his soil, he fell asleep on the tractor seat waiting for the hen to wake him up in the morning.

As soon as the sun rose, Abraham was out on the farmland rushing to make sure he wasted no more time in planting the crops. His wife came out later with a plate of the daily eggs and bacon, but he refused. Abraham needed to plant all seven hundred acres in the next three days. Later in the day, he saw his neighbors walking over to his fields, farm tools in hand. He grunted, even though he knew he should have planted earlier, he still didn’t want to accept help. Farming was a solitary career. But looking at all the land he had to plant, and thinking about how he had to support his wife, he needed all the help he could get.

“Hello,” his closest neighbor and two sons yelled while walking towards him. “We saw that you have a lot of planting to do and came to offer our help again.”

“I guess you can help” Abraham said quietly, “but don’t expect any of the profit to go to you”.

“Of course not, Mr. Wallard, as long as you wife makes us one of her special pies, we’ll be happy.” The neighbors eldest son said, “We’ll go drive over our tractors and farm the sweet corn in the back lot.” The young man continued. Abraham silently lifted his head a little upwards and back down to the ground that betrayed him, with the corners of his lips moving slightly upwards. The neighbors took that as a sign of agreement and quickly walked back through the carefully created rows to their own barn.

Abraham heard a rumbling after he started working the land after his neighbors returned. “What kind of tractor makes that kind of sound,: he though to himself, “it must be some new fancy thing that’s all noise and no help.: While starting up the sprayers to spread the pesticides on the land, he saw the young son coming towards Abraham.

“Mr. Wallard, Mr. Wallard!” the teenage boy yelled running amuck through the carefully planted corn seeds.

“What’s the matter boy? Is everything all right, is someone hurt?” Abraham said with concern. “No it’s about to rain, the big storm that was predicted weegs ago. We need to get home soon before the rain floods the road. We are so sorry Mr. Wallard, but we think that your plants won’t grow now.”

Abraham looked at the young boy and nodded stiffly, while turning away. He thought about his own three sons and how the farm helped support their dreams for further education. He thought about his wife and his house, and all the things that would be hurt because of planting too late. Slowly tears started leaking from his brown eyes, combining with the water slowly coming from the sky. 

 

 


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