Curves (6x2)

[Gita]

Wade Harmon died Saturday, driving his John Deere eastward on the back forty. The tractor idled until it ran out of fuel, and when he didn't come in for lunch, Mavis walked outside and saw it, green and yellow standing out against the long, brown prairie furrows.
She ran to him, but there was no diesel left in the tank with which to carry him home.

My Betty went to their house the next morning with egg-and-bacon casserole and fresh biscuits.  They'd laid Wade out in the parlor on a cooling board, the old timey way, in a suit and white shirt, shined shoes and tie. The next afternoon, people gathered at the graveside to speak of all the ways that Wade had touched their lives. Back in the '60s, Wade had rounded up all the family farmers and started  Kansas' first  co-op. In those days, we all believed that the communal way of sharing would keep us safe from the long reach of Con-Agra and Archer Daniels Midland, those agribusiness giants spreading across the heartland like a cancer, squeezing the little guy out.

Later, folks gathered back at Harmon's farm, some to eat, others to stand by the tractor shed with flasks and tell more stories.   Trevor, Wade's eldest, walked me down the rows of spring wheat -- freshly green and hopeful -- to the spot where Wade had died. 

Grief has a steep curve, and each of us  -- sons, wives, best friends -- has to climb that curve somehow and make it down the other side.  We talked until the light was gone, talked about who would harvest the crop, about Mavis' future, about tractors and ethanol and prices of corn, two men on a patch of ground, navigating the curve of grief the best we could while whipoorwills sang their dirge and the stars leaned down a little closer.

 

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

You made me feel as though I were walking through those rows of wheat talking with Trevor about this man who it seemed everyone loved and grieved.  The last line is memorable. 

[Cita]

Speaking of T-10... I have had to pare down my online existence so that I can show up at the page... I have decided that fb, twitter (only real world stuff), and 6S make the cut... that way, I can write novels and my new book of essays called... (not... I am not revealing the new title HERE!)  Grin.  

[Cita]

Reminds me of Wendell Berry's short stories :  That Distant Land

[Stephen Torelli]

Snapshots of life and an exceptional read.

[Jeanette Cheezum]

I wonder how many men and women over the years dropped in the pastures or off equipement.?Great piece, but the last line made it special.

[Edward Dean]

Really 'over the top' on this one Gita.

The polished phrasing in this is some of your best!

[Bill Floyd]

I'd agree that this is one of your best.  Although you've got a lot of styles, and each has its strengths, this seemed like a confluence between the folksy vibe of the Shiner series and the Fate of the Grimmy series and the heartfelt anger of your political posts.  But more than all that, it is deeply humane and cares about its characters.  I love that the narrator is obviously one of the locals but doesn't feel the need to identify more than that.  "Grief has a steep curve" and the final lines are simply majestic.        

[Robert Morschel]

Very beautiful, Gita, and that last paragraph is wonderful.

[Harry]

Gita, you are a bit of a geographic chameleon. Wherever you set the scene there is always an authenticity to your writing. Your idea of grief as a steep curve is as good an analogy as I've heard. Beautiful!

[Scarlett Rose]

"... and the stars leaned down a little closer." I love that.

You had me in tears. I was so thoroughly engaged in this and I was there and I was roped into the story and the last paragraph was a blow to my heart. Just sublime.