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Eliza Lynn Taylor

Eliza Lynn Taylor
Eliza Lynn Taylor Freelance Writer

Friday, July 3, 2015

Daddy's Girl



The day had started out cold and overcast when Wendy began chores at five that morning. She had been awakened by another one of those dreams, of the day her mother left ten years earlier, a day she only half remember. Her father had told her they would stop eventually, but he had never lived to see that. She missed him more than ever on days like these, after all, as her mother had often said, she was her daddy’s girl.

By the time Wendy had the animals fed and the cows milked it was pouring rain. She sighed, “What a rotten start to the day.” One of the cows had pulled up lame and she had gotten kicked by a neighboring cow when she was trying to check the offending foot on top of everything else. 

It was hard work and now that her dad was gone, and Wendy was doing it all alone for now. It had been just her and her father working the farm after her mother left. She had never been content on the farm with its endless days of work, days repeating with little variation other than planting and harvesting. They hired hands then to help with the hay and putting up feed for the cows. It was more than one man and young girl could manage since her mother had refused to do any of it after the cows were milked.

Wendy drank her much needed cup of coffee and gazed over the ripening hay fields. They would need cut and baled soon, she thought. Maybe that neighbor kid on the next farm would help. Her eyes closed briefly and she wavered on her feet causing her nearly drop her cup. She awoke with a start. It was the same thing every year around the time when her mother had disappeared without a word, without ever calling or writing to let anyone know where she was. She always had a hard time sleeping then, as if she got a lot of sleep in the first place. 

Wendy shook her head to clear her muddled mind. “No time for a nap!” she said to the cat. “I have a lot of work to do if this rain ever lets up.”

The cat hopped off the chair where he was perched and rubbed her leg, purring. 

“You have work too, my fine feline. I saw a mouse today. The rain we’ve had over the last week is making them seek dry shelter and in the house is where they chose. Do your job.” She reached down and petted the calico fur and then went to wash the few dishes.

Wendy’s neighbor Carl Lester knocked on Wendy’s door. She jumped at the sound. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Drying her hands, she went to the door. 

“Monring Wendy,” Carl said. “Thought I’d come over and see if you needed help with anything.”
“Hi Carl. I’m just checking tractors today to make sure they’re ready to go when the hay dries, if it quits raining that is,” she answered. “Say, can Carl, Jr. help put up the hay this year? With my dad gone I just won’t be able to do it by myself.”

“I tell you what Wendy, we’ll both help. You help us with ours and then we’ll come do yours. That sound like a deal?”

“That sounds great! Thank you,” she said.

“That’s what neighbors are for. I know your dad tried to keep mostly to himself after your mom left, but I hope maybe you’ll be out and about as time allows now.” He smiled. “You know, I can remember when no matter what he was doing, in the fields, bucking hay, whatever, your dad always stopped when he saw that bus and went to welcome his girl home from school.”

Wendy smiled back. “I think helping each other is a good idea. It is lonely around here without anyone but the cat and that silly dog in the barn. I tell you what, if Rex doesn’t get where he responds to me like he did dad, I’ll have to get rid of him.”

“Well, he always was your dad’s dog. Give him time. He knows who you are. He’ll come around.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later then. That tractor isn’t going to fix itself,” she said.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

“It just needs greased and the hay baler needs checked over. I think there was some string caught in the hooks last year. I need to get that out.”

Wendy went about her day making sure the equipment was in working order. She kept thinking as she worked about the small section at the end of the orchard where she planted flowers every year. They bloomed this time of year. As lovely as they were, it reminded her of the ugliest day of her life. 

Wendy tried to remember. She spoke out loud to the cat. Mother had been going into town more often than usual," she said. That day when I got home from school mother’s car was home for a change. Daddy was busy planting corn since we had gotten an early spring. I waved at him when the bus passed the field. There was another vehicle in the yard and I wondered who was visiting. I heard voices coming through the open windows. They were laughing and one was a man’s voice. I thought maybe it was a friend of Daddy’s that stopped by and was waiting for him.”

I left my books on the kitchen table and followed the voices. And then to my shock Mother was in bed with a man. I had never seen him before. I screamed and ran from the room. I remember going to dad's office. It was covered in taxidermy from his hunting when he got something really extraordinary and he kept his hunting rifles on display in a special cabinet near the desk. That is the last thing I remember for hours.

I woke up in bed. I was in my pajamas. When I got up I realized my mother was gone, her car, her clothes, some nick-knacks were all gone. I was devastated. Daddy and I cried for weeks.” She stroked the cat. “I do remember also that Daddy was doing some laundry when I went down for breakfast. For some reason our clothes were all muddy. He said it happened chasing cows, so I dropped it. The dreams started about then. Daddy thought if worked with my hands and grew something just for me, to take my mind off things, I would feel better. She got up and found a tissue and wiped her eyes.

Wendy looked out the window. “I remember finding the plot of earth freshly tilled at the end of the orchard. I thought my mother must have intended to plant flowers there so I did it instead. They’ve grown there really well all this time. All that had grown there before were brambles and weeds.” 

Wendy awoke with a start. She sat up in the bed, shaking with tears streaming down her face at a pace faster than the rain that was falling outside. “Daddy always said one day I would remember what I did that day,” she told the cat that was now climbing all over her lap frantically. Wendy had screamed right before she was shocked from her dream. 

At last the rain stopped and the temperature rose warming the remainder of the day to the high eighties. And then, as suddenly as it had risen, the temperature dropped when the sun began to set. With the nightly chores done, Wendy stood just outside the barn watching the sun set. The temperature cooling down had caused a fog to begin. As it arose from the still wet earth, Wendy was barely able to make out the cows as they grazed. The fog turned into a mist and eventually engulfed everything animal and vegetable, living and dead.

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