ATOP Chapter Sixty-Three

"Don't tell Josh, he'll think I'm crazy, but this is my favorite time of the year," Emma laughed as she tied a bright red bandanna, adorned with polka-dots, over her braided hair. "And it's even more exciting this year than usual, since as soon as we finish we can head for the hills!"

"And here's hoping that we will finish in time," Myra laughed as she scraped bacon grease from the griddle. "We've had an unfortunately late start this morning."

"Aw, phooey on that rattletrap old baler," Emma sighed. "It had better hold together today, or else..." she shook her fist in the air. 

"Hey, what's going on in there?" Josh poked his head through the kitchen window and raised an eyebrow at his wife. "Em, you look like a pirate. Threatening the pancakes into submission, are you?" He ducked away and out of reach as Emma started towards him.

"Children, children," Donna shook her head, but her eyes twinkled merrily. "Please. We have a lot of work to get done today, and we have not even finished organizing. Rachel will be here with the babies any minute... she already requested kitchen work. Emma, if you're going to drive the horses, then scoot on out there. Mickey, can you find a spare pair of overalls for Jakob? And Bekah, dear, do you want to work in the kitchen or try your hand at baling? I think they could still use one more hand out there, but I'll leave it up to you."

"I could try it, I suppose," Rebekah said slowly, glancing warily at Emma. "What would I have to do?"

"Oh, we girls are the lucky ones," Emma grinned. "We get to do the driving while the men are stuck hauling bales around. There are two teams, Ronnie's in charge of one and Josh has got the other one. Lemme see... got the list around here, Mom? Oh... here..." she snatched up a tattered sheet of notebook paper and winked at Rebekah, conspiratorially. "See, the secret to getting things done is organization, the more the better. In Ronnie's group are Jakob, Mickey, Dad, and you. In Josh's group are me, Other-Dad, Rudy, and Jesse. The last two of those are boys from town."

"Other-Dad?" Rebekah giggled. "You really do call him that?"

"And why not?" Emma answered solemnly, hands on her hips. "He is my other-dad. Cuz Dad is my biological dad and Other-Dad is my dad-in-law, how else would I tell them apart? C'mon, Bekah, let's find you a pirate bandanna and I'll explain the rest on the way. Ideally, the dads are in charge of further organization, the girls drive, and the boys stack and move bales..."

"Gwamma!" Benjie burst into the house with his usual wild screech, arms open wide as he ran to Donna. "See, I wun fast, Gwamma," he babbled on as he hugged her knees. "Judah can't wun, he's just a baby. I'm a big boy. See? Gonna be as tall as Daddy!"

"Oh, my big boy," Donna scooped him up for a hug. "I have a big boy job for you today too. How would you like to be the official person in charge of lemonade, eh? Only you have to promise not to drink it all. It's for your Daddy and all the others who are working in the field today."

"Lemonade!" Benjie's eyes were wide with delight. "I'll do a good job, Gwamma, I pwomise!"

"Of course you will, dear," Donna smiled as she let him slide back to the ground. Rachel was just then backing through the door, Judah in one arm and a stack of snack containers in the other. Donna rushed to hold the door, pulling the containers away as they began to teeter precariously. Shonie followed her big sister, her arms likewise full. She beamed up at Donna, her eyes speaking her greeting.

"Dear Shonie," Donna piled food on the counter and pulled the little girl into a hug. "You are in for a treat today. Ever ridden on a hay wagon?" As Shonie shook her head, she added, "It's a beautiful day, and we've got plenty of help in the kitchen, whenever you want to run out there, just come and get me and I'll take you on out. Can't go by yourself, they might not see you coming, it wouldn't be safe."

Shonie nodded her agreement, her smile widening. Outside in the barnyard, the Stewart's old tractor rattled past, choking clouds of smoke. Rebekah was in the driver's seat, Mickey perched behind her, shouting directions over the roar of the engine. Emma followed with the horses, Mac and Penny, pulling the second hayrack. Benjie stood in the kitchen doorway, the door propped wide open, waving and yelling his excitement at the "parade". 

♡♡♡

The sun rose almost to the middle of the sky... warm, and yet not unbearably hot as cooler breezes blew. Rebekah was starting to relax, her fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel loosening. She glanced ahead to the baler and then back over her shoulder at the boys. Mickey was walking alongside the wagon, lifting bales to Jakob, who was just getting the rhythm of stacking. With two people new to farming, Mickey had quite a bit of teaching to do at the beginning, but things were straightening out according to plan and Ronnie was looking less skeptical. He had finally abandoned his habit of stopping the baler every so often to check on the rest of them.

"You're doin' great, Bekah," Mickey hollered, waving at her. She grinned at him, but didn't risk taking a hand off the wheel to wave back. Jakob grimaced, straightened up a moment, and looked wearily at Mickey.

"This is not quite as much fun as you said it would be," he laughed ruefully. "Tell me it is almost time for lunch."

"Aw, c'mon, it is fun," Mickey chuckled, shoving a bale at him. "See? Just gotta toughen up a bit."

"I will admit, it is better than some stuff I have done," Jakob grabbed the bale and heaved it onto the stack. "But still. And it is hot out here."

"No, it is beautiful!" Rebekah yelled back at them, tilting her head to the sky. "I think it is fun!"

"See?" Mickey grinned irrepressibly. "Bekah gets it! Here, have another bale. Wait... hold on, Bekah, the baler's stopped."

"Is it not about time to unload this anyway?" Bekah braked the tractor and shifted it into park with some difficulty. "It looks terribly full back there."

"Yeah, but something's wrong," Mickey plopped another bale onto the wagon and moved forward. "Gonna see if Ronnie needs any help."

"We won't be getting this field finished today, at the rate we're going," Ronnie sighed as Mickey approached. "The twine is jammed again. You might as well get the wagon back to the barn and unload it, this'll take me a minute."

"Guess so," Mickey shrugged and glanced back. Bekah had managed to turn the tractor and was already heading in the direction of the barn. "Looks like she's got it," he went on, crossing his arms and leaning against the baler. "She's pretty great, isn't she? Picked up on driving that tractor just like that." he chuckled, his grin slowly fading as he watched the wagon grow smaller in the distance. "Guess Jakob will be leaving day after tomorrow, maybe then things will finally get back to normal... Glad he doesn't live in Jefferson." He was just talking to himself now. Ronnie didn't seem to be listening. He had reached inside the baler to work on something... Mickey didn't completely understand the inner workings of farm machinery so he wasn't sure what. It was something he was supposed to be learning, and dad had been on him about it, but it just never really interested him that much. 

"Y'know..." Mickey began again, but he stopped in alarm. Ronnie's face was chalk white and his breath hitched unnaturally. He stood still a moment and suddenly started struggling wildly, drawing in strange, gasping breaths. 

"Ronnie?" Mickey stepped back, eyes widening. "Ronnie... what's wrong?"

"Can't... can't..." Ronnie cried out, jerking his arm back in a violent motion. Baling twine had wound around his wrists and he clawed it off, sweat beading on his forehead. He didn't seem to see or hear Mickey, gray eyes wild as if he saw something that wasn't there. Mickey reached out, laying a tentative hand on his brother's arm. Ronnie whirled around with a yell, swinging his fist... Mickey managed to duck just in time. 

"Seriously, Ronnie!" Mickey shouted, grabbing at Ronnie's arm and missing. "What's wrong with you? Snap out of it!"

Ronnie stumbled backwards, falling against the baler with a shuddering sigh. He held his hands open in front of them, staring at them in shock. Mickey kept his distance.

"What's going on?" he ventured and Ronnie glanced up, realization dawning on his face. 

"I... I don't... know..." Ronnie faltered, gripping his left wrist with his right hand. "I..." he shook his head. "Gotta take a break. It's close enough to lunch, c'mon." 

"You won't try to hit me again, will you?" Mickey meant it at a joke, but the look on Ronnie's face made him wish he hadn't said it. He laughed awkwardly as he fell in step with his brother. "Maybe dad could fix the baler?"

Ronnie didn't answer. It was still just as vivid... it was so hard sometimes to keep reality in view, in front of the past. The past had a way of overshadowing everything else, even what stood right before his eyes. He stared at his hands again as they trudged towards the house. They were free... and yet he could still feel the rope wrapped tightly around his wrists... as if it was still there... had always been there... and his hands were shaking.

"Amerikanisch... down on your knees and beg for mercy!"

"Mom was gonna make ham salad for lunch," Mickey chattered on, trying desperately to fill the strained silence. "But she changed her mind and we're having chicken salad. Rachel's helping her do it Kosher. Mostly Kosher, that is. We can't get it exactly right, but we're trying. Bekah said that trying is good enough. Didya know they can't have milk and meat at the same time? Kinda weird, huh?"

"American dog... we will make sure you no longer can run away, jah? You cannot fight us now!"

"Been practicing some of those German words," Mickey grinned. "Jah is my favorite one. It's fun to say. Jah, jah..." he laughed and Ronnie's face paled slightly.

"Why'd ya do it, Ronnie? Why try to fight them? You know they'll always win..."

"Because..." Ronnie whispered. "It was right."

"Huh?" Mickey glanced up at him. "You say something?"

"Um..." Ronnie shrugged. "Didya mention chicken salad?"

"I think so?"

"Race you," he grinned and took off for the house.

"Aw, c'mon!" Mickey yelled after him, laughing. "Everyone does this to me! No fair getting head starts!"