The Castaway Hotel - 4 - 32. Chapter 32 - Rock-O And Hard Work

A little before six o’clock the next morning, we discovered what the Beckers had found so funny when they told us we’d get up when the alarm clock went off. Rock-O, their rooster, started crowing as the sun began to creep over the horizon and light up the countryside, and he continued for about the next twenty or thirty minutes. Most of the boys didn’t want to get up right away, but found it impossible to sleep through his energetic sunrise serenade.

As they began moving about and getting dressed, Frankie made a comment that “if that bird were his, it would have been an ingredient in a pot of chicken fricassee by now.” The other boys chimed in their agreement, before Little Ricky dragged them out the front door.

“Aren’t we going to at least eat first?” Dustin inquired, as he became aware of the emptiness in his belly.

“No, we do the chores first and then we come in to eat,” Little Ricky informed him.

The boys all groaned in response, but did as instructed and followed Little Ricky outside. He led them to the chicken coop first, where he directed them over to a barrel and lifted the cover. “We have to feed the chickens first, to keep them busy so we can do the rest of our job here,” he announced. “Everyone grab a handful of chicken feed and come outside with me, and I’ll show you what to do.”

The boys did what he told them and followed him out to the penned in portion of the chicken yard, which was in back of the chicken coop, where he demonstrated what to do next. “Toss their food around like this, so it’s spread out over the ground. Don’t drop it all in one spot, because then not all of the chickens will be able to eat at the same time. Besides, it’s better if they have to look a round to find it, because it gives us more time to do our next job.”

Even though the boys didn’t understand what he meant by that remark, they watched as he scattered his handful of chicken feed about, to keep the chickens busy. Once they had each done the same, Little Ricky went back into the coop, picked up a basket and showed the boys how to find the eggs. Soon every boy was checking through the hay on the various ledges looking for eggs and putting whatever they found in the basket Little Ricky was holding.

“This is a funny looking egg,” Andrew announced, while holding up a shiny egg-shaped object.

“That’s one of the ceramic eggs,” Little Ricky told him. “Dad keeps them there so the chickens understand where they are supposed to lay their eggs. Plus, they don’t get as upset if they still see a couple of those laying around after we collect the real ones.”

The boys took Little Ricky’s explanation at face value and then followed him back to the house, where they presented the items to Mrs. Becker. She took the basket from her son, before handing him a bucket of scraps, which had been collected after the previous day’s meals. Little Ricky took that bucket and hurried back outside, telling my boys to follow him. He led them out to the pigpen, where he dumped the bucket of scraps into the troth for the hogs. He did add some regular hog food to it, plus some fruit and vegetables that had started to go bad, since what Mrs. Becker gave them wasn’t enough to satisfy the number of animals they had to feed.

Once they finished that chore, they helped to bring the four cows in from the pasture and milk them again, before turning them back out to graze until later. When they had finished that task, they brought the milk into the house and were told to clean up before they took a seat at the table, as breakfast was almost ready. The boys were certainly happy to hear this news, but didn’t have enough energy left to race off and perform this simple task, so it was quite a few minutes later before the last of them returned to the dining area to eat.

We had another huge country breakfast prepared for us, which was meant to sustain each of us through the hard work ahead. Once everyone had finished his meal, Little Ricky led the entire crew out to the barn, where he got the boys started on the next set of chores.

First they had to clean out the stalls and other parts of the barn, which meant they had to shovel out the manure, sweep off the cement floor, wipe down the stanchions and clean out the storage areas. When they finished all of that, Little Ricky went out and brought in their horses, which they would have to brush down and feed next. When they were done with the horses, they went to find Mr. Becker, who was just about ready to set off to one of their fields, where he would mow the hay.

He told the boys we would all go out together and then showed me how to operate one of his tractors, so I could follow him out to where we’d be working next. I felt a bit out of place behind the wheel of this large hunk of machinery, but followed behind Mr. Becker as he drove another tractor, with which he pulled a rather large wagon, where the boys rode. He prepared it for them by putting some loose hay on it first, to make it more comfortable and let the boys get a feel for what a hayride might be like. They seemed intrigued by this simple pleasure and seemed to enjoy it.

After we finally reached the field we’d be working in, Mr. Becker took over the tractor I was driving, as it had the mower attachment hooked to it. After explaining what he was going to do and demonstrating how it should be done, he let each of the boys drive that tractor and cut some of the hay. He let my drivers do it with him standing beside them, on the side opposite the mower, while he had the little ones seated on his lap, when it was their turn to try. The boys all thought driving the tractor was pretty neat, especially the younger boys, who hadn’t driven anything before.

Once we finished mowing the field, we drove back to the barn and Mr. Becker announced to the boys they could do whatever they wanted for the rest of the afternoon, while he and I ran in to the feed store to pick up a few items. The boys looked excited when he told them this and I found out later why. They had decided to go back out to the pond again, so they could go skinny-dipping once more.

This time, however, no sexual activity took place while they were out there, but the boys did play a little grab-ass in the pond, took the opportunity to dunk or submarine each other from below, which was sort of like getting pulled under during a shark attack. They had between three and four hours to do this today, so they eagerly raised hell for most of that time and really enjoyed the freedom of swimming nude in a secluded, cool pond.

As it neared time to head back in again, they got out of the water, went out to the field and lounged around, drying in the sun. When most of the water had disappeared from their bodies, they put their clothes on and walked back to the house, so they could do the remaining chores before dinner. When they came back into the house, Mr. Becker told them he had a surprise for them and then I had them all load into the van. He gave me directions to get to another farm and there the boys got to see about sixty cows being milked with milking machines. They were even shown how to use the equipment and allowed to hook one of the cows up to this mechanical device, before they were given a brief tour of this considerably larger facility. They were really impressed by the differences, and how much more there was to do there, but they were happy to head back to the Beckers’ place before long.

When we got back, they helped Ricky milk his cows for the final time that day, and then they went into the house to clean up for dinner. I had already spent much of the day trying to convince Mrs. Becker to let me take everyone out to dinner tonight, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She did allow me to give her a hand in the kitchen though, and I helped her prepare the fried chicken, homemade biscuits, oven fried potatoes and fresh peas we were going to have later. I helped her do nearly everything, including shelling the peas before she steamed them, but I did save a few to show the boys when they came back in, so they’d know what I’d had to do.

I was surprised to learn that not all of my boys realized peas had to be removed from pods before they were eaten, at least for most people, and they just thought they came that way in cans or in the bags from the frozen section of the grocery store. Therefore, this was an educational experience as well.

With our dinner, we all drank glasses of fresh, cold milk, from last night’s and this morning’s milking, and the boys discovered this was quite different tasting from the skim milk we were all used to drinking. Of course the food was fantastic as well, and there was plenty of it, and when everything else had been devoured, Mrs. Becker brought out homemade apple and cherry pies for dessert. We were all stuffed when we walked away from the table, each guessing we’d probably gained 30 to 40 pounds in the process. If we lived here, as Ricky did, we’d probably all be fat slobs in no time, except I’m certain we’d also work some of those calories off during the course of the day. One thing we all agreed on was that Mrs. Becker was one fantastic cook.

After we sat around for a while, to give our food a chance to digest, Mr. Becker announced he had something else planned for us to do. Wondering what it might be, we watched intently as he went out back and then carried in a tall wooden cylinder, with a metal container inside of it. It was an old hand-cranked ice cream maker, not one of the newer versions with an electric motor, but the older variety – where you supplied the power. It was almost identical to the one I had used when staying with my grandparents when I was a boy. After Mr. Becker explained to us how it had been passed down through three generations of Beckers, he instructed the boys as to how it worked and explained they would have to do the cranking, if they wanted to share the treat that came from it.

Mrs. Becker had whipped up the ice cream mix earlier in the day and kept it in the refrigerator, so now she poured some of it into the metal container to start the first batch. Once it was in the tube, Mr. Becker sealed the container up, packed the area around it with ice, and then sprinkled the ice with salt, to help make it colder. After he got the cranking started, he gave each boy an opportunity to turn the handle for a while, in order to mix the contents and transform it into the final product we would consume.

The boys were amazed at how hard it was to crank that contraption and how their arm muscles burned after just a couple of minutes or less of work. However, no one was willing to give up until his turn was completed, because none of them wanted anyone making fun of them for not having been able to do as much as their brothers. The smaller boys were only required do it for about two-thirds of the time the other boys did, but that was more than enough to satisfy their curiosity.

After we finished this endeavor, the boys all agreed it was well worth the effort, once they got to sample what they had helped to produce. The ice cream they now ate was unlike any other ice cream they had ever eaten. It had a vanilla flavor, but somehow it was sweeter and had a slightly different texture than they were accustomed to. It was a marvelous and unique experience for all of them and they were glad to pack away as much of it as they were allowed. We ended up making several batches, to make certain everyone had enough to satisfy themselves, but we only got a small portion each time, so no one would be left out during any of the batches. Finally, everyone agreed they’d had enough, both in ice cream and cranking the ice cream maker, so we helped clean everything up and put it away.

Once we’d finished that activity, we sat and watched television with the Beckers for a short time and enjoyed a movie. The Beckers had a satellite dish they used to get programs they wouldn’t otherwise be able to see, and had selected this particular movie for us from one of their premium channels. When the feature ended, Mr. Becker suggested it was time for us all to get some sleep, since we had another full day ahead of us tomorrow. We didn’t have to force anyone to go to bed tonight, because they were all pretty tired from the day’s activities.

Before we went to bed, however, we discussed how we were going to all get ready to attend church with the Beckers, once we finished the morning chores. We certainly didn’t want anyone smelling like they just came from the barn as we sat in the service, but because the Beckers had a limited hot water supply; we each would have only a few minutes to clean up. I urged the boys to double up and take fairly quick showers, to conserve hot water as much as possible, but Little Ricky came up with a much better alternative plan. He suggested he and the boys could go out to the pond and clean up, as all they would need were a couple of bars of ivory soap (because it floats) and towels to dry off and wrap around themselves when they came back in. We thought that was an excellent idea and told them that would work fine, but the boys also decided to take a couple of plastic garbage bags with them, so they could toss their clothes into them after they’d undressed.

I was a little surprised the Beckers were so agreeable to their son’s suggestion, as they understood the boys would all be naked and bathing together in the pond. However, after thinking about it and realizing things like this must have also occurred in their past on various farms, they figured they were all boys and possessed the same type of equipment, so there would be no harm in such an innocent activity.

Once the boys went to bed, the house quickly quieted down. I checked in on them later, when I got up to use the toilet, and discovered they were all sound asleep. I did notice Little Ricky was cuddled up between Graham and Andrew, which surprised me; since I thought he’d have been hunkered down next to his idol and namesake. My guess was he had come to enjoy the company of boys closer to his own age and chose to pursue that over his hero worship.

Rock-O began his acknowledgment of dawn just before six again and carried on for a good twenty minutes before he stopped. The boys were less derogatory about his effort this morning, and even commented it wasn’t a bad way to get awakened. Now that they were up, I sent them out to help with the chores, so they followed Little Ricky outside and assisted him feeding the chickens, collecting the eggs, slopping the hogs and milking the cows. After that, they quickly cleaned out the barn and then happily raced off toward the pond, to take a morning dip and clean up.

After throwing their smelly clothes into the trash bags, until they could be taken out and washed at home, the boys made their way to the pond’s edge. Even though the water was still a little cooler than they’d have normally liked, they washed up and enjoyed a brief swim in the process. After they finished, they dried off and put their footwear back on, before walking toward the farmhouse with the towels draped over their shoulders. Each of them walked naked most of the way back and only wrapped the towels around their waists once they were in sight of the farmhouse.

After coming inside, they dressed and then joined the Beckers and I for another big country breakfast. After we finished eating, we quickly cleaned up the kitchen and then followed the Beckers to their church, as they rode in their truck and led the way. The church was a very small country church and we increased their attendance by about twenty percent or more once my family entered and was seated. It was a very basic church building, with maybe ten wooden pews on each side of the aisle, a small altar area with a pulpit, and three stained windows on each side. It was very quaint, but served its purpose.

We sat through a fairly enjoyable service and the minister acknowledged our presence to the congregation, which made us feel very comfortable there. I made sure to put in a very generous contribution in the offering, which probably doubled their normal take, so I figured we’d be welcomed there again, whenever we came out to visit the Beckers.

After the service, the Beckers introduced us to much of the congregation, beginning with the pastor and then their friends and neighbors, some of whom I had spoken to on the phone. We were primarily known as the family that helped the Beckers adopt Little Ricky, but we didn’t mind playing that role. These were very honest and hard-working folks, friendly and very direct, and we got along very well with them, while making some new friends along the way. Who knows, we might have just encouraged another couple to adopt some other poor unfortunate child, which would provide Little Ricky a playmate nearby.

After making our way around the crowd, if you could call it that, the Beckers joined us in the van, so they could give us a guided tour of the area. They pointed out various farms and explained which of the people we had just met belonged to which homestead. After that, they directed me to a fairly large park, which contained hiking trails and a small lake. We spent the next couple of hours just wandering around the park, enjoying the lovely day and all that nature had to offer. When we got back to the van, I asked them to direct me to a good restaurant close by, which they did, but only after some intense discussion. They didn’t really want me to pay for this, but finally gave in to my friendly persuasion.

It wasn’t a very large establishment and far from the route we would use to drive home, but it did serve very good meals and we all enjoyed our time together. Once the meal was over, we took the Beckers back to their church, so they could pick up their truck. That is why they drove that far on their own, in order to save us from having to drive back to their farm before heading home. It just so happened the church was part way between their farm and the road leading back to our place, so it worked out well.

After saying farewell to each of them and thanking them for the valuable experience, the boys and I made sure to let them know they were invited to our Fourth of July cookout. This year it fell on a Wednesday and was a few days before they were scheduled to leave for Disney World. After confirming that they would love to join us, they explained they sadly had to refuse. They wouldn’t have anyone to cover the chores and certain things needed to get done, even on weekends and holidays.

I suggested they could leave after the morning chores were finished and I’d be happy to pay a hired man to do the rest for them. That way, they could spend the day with us, and then still be able to return in time to do the evening milking, so the hired man wouldn’t have to do it all. After considering my offer and talking it over privately with each other, they finally agreed to my plan. That would leave them a few hours to spend with us, eat and participate in what other activities we might decide to do. In addition to the Fourth, we were also going to see them the following Friday, when we picked them up to take them to Philadelphia to catch their plane to Orlando.

The drive back went fairly quickly and the boys were glad to be back home. Although they did admit they had enjoyed their weekend visit to the farm, they also confessed how shocked they were by the amount of work a farmer has to do, going almost nonstop from dawn until dusk. Now, they understood why Mr. Becker was so hesitant about leaving his farm for very long, because the work would pile up very quickly and cows don’t do well if they’re not milked regularly.

For some of the boys, this was their first experience with country life, as they had grown up in a city or smaller community setting, be it a village or town center, so it had been an eye-opener to a whole new way of life. This also made them appreciate what their ancestors would have had to go through, although it would have been much harder for them, since nearly everything would have had to been done by hand. I think the boys were thankful they didn’t live on a farm and weren’t required those jobs every day, because they thought it would become old really fast, but it wasn’t bad for a short period of time.

All in all, it was worth the drive and the effort, but it was also nice to see how Little Ricky was doing and that he seemed to really like that sort of life. I would never have guessed he would have been so suited to living on a farm and eager for its rigors, but he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely while we were there. I’m sure some of his current happiness and contentment stemmed from the fact he was the center of attention in that household and deeply loved, and I was fairly certain that wouldn’t change in the future, even if the Beckers did decide to adopt another child.