Bluegrass Symphony - 4. Farmer Wren

Caleb was just as shocked as Wren. Wren stared, unseeing, as he sat in the chair. "I… I don't..." Wren wet his lips and blinked, focusing on Rachel. "There has to be a mistake. Why would he give it to me, mom?"

She pulled up a chair and sat, taking his hand. "Well, because he knew exactly what kind of men his sons are," she smiled, "and what kind of man you are."

The way Wren looked back at her made Caleb think that he still didn't quite believe it. Rachel patted Wren's hand.

Caleb frowned. "There's something in the envelope."

Rachel picked it up, looked inside and her eyes widened. "Oh, that's important. Lord." She reached in and withdrew a little metal key. She held it up. "Papaw's safety deposit key. The bank will have one too, and it'll take both to open the box."

Wren heard her, but he still looked bewildered. He stood up. "Caleb, I have to take you back to your truck."

Caleb nodded and glanced at Rachel. She gave him a slightly worried look. Wren seemed stunned and robotic as he walked to the door. "Boys, why don't you take your time at the farm. We've got a few hours yet. Walk around. Get reacquainted with the place."

Wren stopped, his hand on the door. He rubbed his face and nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good." He left the house.

"I'll watch him," Caleb assured Rachel, and she smiled in response. Then he left, following his not-quite-mindful friend.

He stepped quickly and caught up to Wren as he opened the driver's door. Caleb reached and took the keys. Wren frowned at him, and Caleb jerked his head toward the passenger side. Wren just nodded, walked around, and got in.

Caleb silently drove them to what had become Wren's farm.

Caleb parked and glanced at Wren, and saw the dark-haired man stare vacantly at the field visible from the driveway. Wren shook his head. "What am I going to do? I live in California. I… my life is in California." Wren lowered his eyes to his hands in his lap. "I can't stay here. I can't."

It was like the ache from a deep bruise, the sensation over Caleb's heart. He cleared his throat. "Why not, Wren? It doesn't sound like you've got much goin' for you there."

Wren closed his eyes, his head still pointed down. He breathed in and out then looked over at Caleb. There was an agonized quality in Wren, unspoken, but as real as if he had announced it.

Caleb frowned. "What? What's wrong?"

Wren spent a long moment with his eyes connected to Caleb's. A decision finally occurred, and he sighed. "I don't belong here, Caleb." He got out of the truck.

Caleb followed with a need to understand. "What do you mean?" He walked beside the smaller man. "Your papaw left it to you. It's yours." He waved a hand over the garden as they neared it. "I'd kill for this, Wren. Are you really gonna walk away from it?"

Wren got to the path leading to the barn, and he looked over his shoulder at Caleb. "I'm gay." Caleb stopped in his tracks, his mouth slightly agape. Wren continued toward the barn. "There's no place for people like me here." He glanced once more at Caleb who struggled with processing the information. Wren began to cry as he stood apart from Caleb.

Caleb struggled to say something, anything, but he was dumbfounded by Wren's revelation. Wren nodded, his teeth clenched. "Yep. No place." He kept walking. "See you at the burial."

⤱

"I knew it. I knew they wouldn't come after they found out about the will." Caleb barely heard Rachel, though her disappointed tone carried through to him. He, Wren, and Charles shoveled the dirt beside Beecher's grave into the hole.

Wren hadn't even looked at him once since the burial started. There was a blank, expressionless slate in place of Wren's features - as if feelings were wrung out of him.

Caleb didn't know what to think. They were all quiet, thanks to the sombreness of the occasion, but it was more than that for him, and he expected it was the same for Wren.

Tracy and Rachel murmured to one another while the men did the honor of laying Beecher to rest. It was the duty of his sons, yet the three men were absent.

Charles shook his head. "I know they're rotten but damn." He threw another shovel-load of red, clay-rich soil in the grave. "Just because they didn't get their way they're gonna act this way?" Instead of the uncles, they had to get help from the funeral home to carry Beecher's casket and to lower it down into the grave.

Tracy looked angry, and she shifted Oliver to her other shoulder. "Those boys don't deserve the farm. I'm glad it went to you, Wren."

Wren responded with a crisp nod and a tiny smile at her, then for the first time since Caleb left him at the barn, Wren glanced at him.

There was entirely too much shared in that fleeting moment to process - guilt, pain, awareness, and resignation. Caleb saw all of it in those green irises, and a roil of different responses twisted in his belly.

He was over the shock. No one he knew had ever confessed to homosexuality. He suspected some folks at college, but Caleb pointedly avoided those people. It wasn't that he despised them, but he felt an anxiousness when the possibility arose that an associate might be queer - particularly men. If he suspected, then they didn't stay associates long.

'But, it's Wren.' Caleb continued shoveling. Instead of disgust or nervousness, he experienced dread. He dreaded others knowing and worried about what it would mean for his friend.

The amount of earth in the grave rose until it was nearly level with the surface. Every time Caleb looked at Wren, he was sadly focused on the task before them. The dark-haired man seemed reluctant to look at him again, perhaps unwilling to see what Caleb thought of him.

"So, what are your plans, Wren?" Tracy asked, and bounced with Oliver as he fussed a bit. "Do you think you'll stay on the farm?"

Rachel's apprehension mirrored Caleb's, and the big Shaw boy realized that she too wondered what Wren would ultimately decide.

Wren threw another bit of dirt on the grave, and he straightened, the shovel resting on the ground and sweat trickling down his forehead. He risked a glance at Caleb, and the big man used the opportunity to give him an almost imperceptible smile, but the pause and momentarily confused expression told Caleb that he caught it. "I… I don't know." Wren sighed. "Whatever I decide I, ah, need to do some things in California." He glanced at Caleb again, then helped get the remaining earth onto the grave.

"Well, we can keep an eye on things 'till you get back." Charles clapped Wren's back. "We'll make sure our favorite trio don't mess with it. Right, Caleb?"

Wheels turned in his mind, and Caleb looked pointedly at Wren. "Yup. It's your place, Wren. And it'll be there, waitin' for you."

Wren's bottom lip subtly trembled at Caleb's words. He replied with a nod.

They finished with their task on the hill at the Hambrick family graveyard. Caleb and the rest of the Shaw family got into his truck, while Wren and his mother took her old beater.

Caleb followed along behind Rachel as she drove herself and Wren home, then he turned right to go up the hill when they got to the split in the road. Caleb looked down at their truck from his vantage point above.

Wren stared up at him. The last thing Caleb saw of Wren that day was his tearful gaze and an uncertain expression on his face.

⤱

It was seven p.m., and Wren sat at the patio table behind his mother's home. He listened to the creek babbling and the cheeping of the fluffy, yellow chicks as they milled about with the hens. It was nearly bedtime for them, and the momma chickens began to gather their broods near the wired-in coop and attached henhouse.

'Why?' Wren shook his head, confused. 'Why did Caleb say that? I don't belong here. I have no place here.' He took a couple of deep breaths and let them slowly exhale, calming his heart and stilling some of his turmoil.

'Does Caleb really believe that? Does it matter?' His eyes shifted. 'Am I really thinking about this?' He ran his tongue over his teeth. 'A farmer. Like papaw.' He clenched his jaw. "Like dad."

Wren and his mother had an appointment with the First National Bank branch in Willard the next morning, Tuesday at nine a.m. They had the Will, death certificate, and Wren's identifying documents together. They were ready to go find out what Beecher left Wren in terms of finances.

Wren didn't expect much at first, then he reconsidered. "I didn't expect him to leave me the farm either." He chuckled with a rare moment of mirth.

He leaned back and looked up at the darkening sky. It was clear, and early March, so as the sun disappeared it grew cold - it'd likely dip down into the forties overnight. He saw the brightest stars twinkling above as the world slid deeper into darkness. The cold metal of the chair occasionally contacted bare skin where his shirt rode up - it made him shiver and laugh.

Wren stared up into the unpolluted, clear twilight and for a couple of hours, he dared to dream.

⤱

Caleb's breath streamed in white plumes in the early morning air. Once again, he stood on the porch of Beecher's house. The stability of the old wood under his work boots was suspect, but he made sure to distribute his weight over multiple boards, and not any single one.

Caleb hadn’t slept well last night. Around five he had gotten up, and instead of driving down to the treasured acreage, he had put on his overalls, denim shirt, boots, and he had walked. It had only taken twenty minutes from his brother's house. Though it had still been dark when he left, he knew the road and the path down the side of the hill well. He could nearly walk it blindfolded.

He wrestled with the knowledge of what Wren had told him. Caleb pushed off of the railing and slowly made his way down the steps off of the porch, down to the big garden. He knew that gay people were objects of derision by most. They were considered wrong, just by virtue of their attraction. Caleb himself had been subtly indoctrinated in this societal schooling, just as most in that part of the country had. It wasn't anything he had to be told, a man just knew.

Caleb also knew Wren. He and Charles had grown up with the dark-haired Hambrick boy, they were close - all of them. He knew that Wren hated crawdads because one sliced open his big toe one summer day in the creek, while Wren dutifully kept the secret of Caleb's own fear of enclosed spaces to himself. They knew things about one another. They were friends.

Caleb ambled along, looking at the turned earth, the neat rows, and what would soon be wasted effort. "Beecher's last plowin', for nothin'." Caleb snorted in irritation. The rows had yet to receive any plants or seeds. If something wasn't planted soon, then it'd be too late to take advantage of Beecher's work.

The barn was now within reach, and Caleb put his hand on the rough wood of the building. He leaned against it and looked up the hill. His eyes spied many places where it'd be simple to create additional fields - additional chances to raise something to make the farm profitable.

Caleb was about to walk over to the fenceline when he heard the tell-tale sound of an engine. He breathed a sigh of relief when Rachel's old truck pulled in. He half-expected one or more of the uncles, but he was happy to be wrong. He started on the way over to the vehicle.

Wren stepped out. It was now light enough that they saw one another across the field, and Caleb waved when Wren threw up his hand.

It wasn't long before Caleb had crossed the garden. "Howdy, Wren."

"Caleb." Wren nodded, met his gaze for a moment, then he dropped his eyes. A corkscrew of empathy passed through Caleb as he watched Wren grapple with their collective knowledge.

"Wren," Caleb stepped close, "I'm not gonna say anything. Not to anybody."

That earned him Wren's green-eyed stare. "Why? Why keep it a secret?" Wren's voice was perplexed, yet steady and firm. He shook his head. "Why do that for me?"

Caleb looked out over the farm and the house. "So you'd have a chance at makin' this work." He sighed. "If you wanted."

Wren wet his lips. "You want me to? You want me to stay, try to make it work?"

Caleb didn't have to think about that. "Yes."

Wren continued to look at him, then he sighed. "I've thought about it." Wren shook his head. "I love working the farm, but I'd need help. And I can't afford to hire anybody."

Caleb frowned. "You know I'd help you." His tone had a hint of the indignance he felt. That Wren didn't know Caleb would pitch in was galling.

Wren blinked. "Well, I do now." He made a face. "Caleb, I just don't want to assume anything after I told you…"

"I've known you my whole life, and you're still you," Caleb said with more bite than he wanted.

Wren held up his hands. "Okay!" His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered. "Well, there's one big obstacle. That's my student loan. If I can't make the payments, then they'll take anything I've got instead." He motioned over the garden. "Including this whole thing."

Caleb set his jaw. "If I'm helping you then it'd turn a profit, this place would."

Wren's eyes held a challenge as he looked at Caleb. "Fine. But what about your loan, Caleb? If you're working here, helping me, then how are you going to pay down your own debt? How are you going to make a living? Hell, how will either of us?"

Caleb stepped even closer, close enough so he could feel the heat from Wren's skin against his face. "Don't doubt me," he growled. "We'll have enough profit to make it work, enough for us both. If I say it can be done, then it can be done."

Wren's gaze shifted back and forth between Caleb's eyes, and he heard Wren swallow. "Are you saying you want to join me in a partnership?"

Caleb leaned back, out of Wren's personal space and considered. "I… reckon so." Caleb thought then nodded. "Yeah. My expertise and labor, your land and labor. Long as all my expenses are met, I'd be happy with that."

Wren stared at him. They looked at one another for a few moments, then Wren slumped. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Why am I doing this?"

Caleb grinned, stepped beside him and put his arm around Wren's shoulders. "Because you know it'll work." He squeezed the smaller man and shook him a bit back and forth.

"That's not it." Wren chuckled and looked sidewise at Caleb. "But, let's give it a shot. Worst that happens is we fail, default on our loans, and lose our shirts."

Caleb snorted. "That all?"

Wren laughed. He stepped out from under Caleb's arm. "You wanna go to town with mom and me? We're going to the bank to check papaw's deposit box and accounts."

Caleb smiled. "Yeah." He started after Wren as he headed to the truck. "Think your mom will feed us first? I'm hungry."

"Of course she'll feed us." They got in, and Wren started the vehicle.

Caleb sat back in the seat as they traveled toward Rachel's house, happy for the first time in days. Then he frowned at his uncomfortable position. He slid his hand into a pocket and adjusted things. All was well again after, and he sighed with contentment.

⤱

Wren, Rachel, and Caleb sat in the lobby of the First National Bank, waiting for the appointment to go back and see the manager, Mrs. Shawna Adams. They had arrived only a few minutes prior and only just settled in when the door leading to the back opened.

Uncle Jason Hambrick stepped out, anger and ire bristling his thin frame. He positively seethed with it, then his gaze landed on the three in the lobby. Jason's entire countenance changed, and Wren watched as that slimy trademark smile curled his thin lips. "Oh, well lookie here." He nodded as he walked past. "Y'all are probably up next, now that my business is done. I'm sure Shawna is gonna take care of you."

Wren nodded once at him, but that was the limit of their interaction as Jason hurried out the door. The three of them glanced at one another.

Sure enough, Shawna was at the doorway leading back to the offices. The gray-haired woman was flushed, but she put on a smile for the trio. "Well, howdy folks." She waved a hand. "Come on back. Let's get you taken care of."

They followed her past a few closed offices, then to the large, walled-off space at the end. They entered, and she closed the door behind her. Shawna made her way around to her desk and sat with a sigh.

Rachel leaned forward. "Jason didn't give you no trouble, did he?"

Shawna chuckled. "Oh, those boys are always trouble, it's just a matter of degree." She looked up. "I'm goin' to tell you three the same thing I told him - you need copies of everything before the bank can hand over Beecher's accounts and safety deposit box."

Wren clenched his jaw. "So he tried to get papaw's money."

Shawna feigned surprise. "Oh, mercy. I'm not allowed to discuss customer interactions with other customers." She reached for the papers Rachel held out for her. Her amused, blue eyes flicked over the documents in her hand. "But what you infer from our talkin', well, that's on you, sweetie."

Wren would have laughed if he wasn't so angry. He glanced at Rachel, and she gave him a reassuring nod. She patted Wren's leg as Shawna did her review.

It didn't take long. "I'm happy to tell you, Wren, you are now the sole holder of your papaw Beecher's accounts and his safety deposit box." She turned to the computer screen on her desk and pulled out a keyboard as the trio breathed a sigh of relief. Shawna frowned in concentration as she began to type. "Wren, you still have your account with us?"

There was an old checking account that had languished for the last six years while Wren was away in California, but he had no idea if it were still active. "Uh, I used to."

"I'll look you up." Shawna's fingers clicked on the mechanical keyboard, and soon a smile appeared on her face. "There you are. Been a while, but it's there." She pursed her lips. "Let's get you a new debit card. We're high tech now, we can do those right here in the branch!"

Wren nodded, and she continued.

Caleb sat quietly beside him, and Wren glanced over at his broad-shouldered friend. Caleb appeared thoughtful, and he stared at a point a few feet ahead on the floor, his hands folded in his lap. Wren leaned and bumped him. "Thanks for coming, Caleb."

He smiled and looked over. "Sure. We've planted already." He shrugged. "Not much for me to do at Charles's farm right now."

Shawna made a satisfied sound. "There." She pushed the keyboard-tray back under the desk. She raised a keyring up to her eyes and squinted, searching for the right one. "Ah." The key went into a locked drawer of her desk, and she pulled out a 10"x10" metal box. It went on top of the desk, and she looked at Wren. "I had them bring your papaw's deposit box to me earlier this morning. Y'all got your key?"

Wren nodded and stood up, as did Rachel and Caleb. Wren found his appointed lock, and he inserted it while Shawna did the same to the one on her side.

It unlocked, and the lid shifted a little as the catches were undone. She opened the hinged metal lid, and they all leaned and looked inside. There were half a dozen plastic ziplock bags - each filled with various seeds, a folded paper note, and a thick, silvery ring.

Wren gingerly removed the contents and sat them on the desk. The ring he held in his palm and looked at Rachel. "This was papaw's?" The jewelry bore tool and hammer-marks, obviously handmade. A wide, recessed stripe of copper ran up the middle, and it was framed on both sides by hammered silver. Wren thought it was a handsome ring.

Rachel shook her head once. "I've never seen it." She reached and touched the metal as it lay in Wren's palm. "It's rough, but pretty."

Wren slipped the jewelry into his pocket, and he unfolded the note. His papaw's signature cramped writing made him smile as soon as he saw it.

Wren wet his lips and began to read aloud. "Wren. You're reading this because I'm gone. That's okay, boy, it's the way of things." Wren began to tear up, and he cleared his throat. "Inside this box are some things I want you to have. The seeds are all heirloom varieties that I've kept alive through the years in small beds, off of the main plot. Nobody I know of is raising or selling these. There are small squashes that are as sweet as can be, a real pretty variety of rainbow corn, some pole beans that are almost purple when they mature with a good taste and chew, tomatoes that are the meatiest things you could want, and a few oddballs for you to try. All I ask is that you stay on the farm. Try to make it work for a year. After that, if it isn't for you then I understand, and you have my blessing to do what you will with it. Though, I'd prefer your uncles never lay a finger on it." Wren laughed at that, and he wiped his face. "Oh. The ring. It was given to me years ago - before I ever even met mamaw. It was from a good friend, and I wanted you to have it. Just like the farm, do with it what you will. I love you, boy. Be good, and be happy."

Wren reread it silently then lowered the note and sighed. Shawna watched him, a slight smile on her face, but her eyes were sad. "Sorry you lost your papaw, Wren. But, he loved you an awful lot."

Wren nodded. "I know." He stuck out his hand. "Well, thanks for everything, Mrs. Adams. I appreciate your help."

She shook and clasped her other hand over his. "Well, we ain't quite finished yet." She moved around the desk. "Come on, let's go get your debit card done so you can get to your account with that money."

Wren frowned as he followed her, the other two in his group went along as well. "How much is in there? He was an old farmer. He couldn't have put away much."

Shawna had the most enigmatic smile as she looked sideways at him. "Your papaw had been steady about saving over the last fifteen years. It's true, it was just a bit as he could afford it, but he was disciplined about puttin' a little away."

Now curious, they joined her at one of the stations up front where the bank served various needs of customers who came in. There was only one other patron in the room, and the older woman was already being assisted at another window. Shawna stepped behind the service desk, and she soon had the account information on the screen - though Wren and the others couldn't see it.

She went to the back while they waited, a bit impatiently now, then she returned with a new debit card and got Wren set up with a PIN.

Shawna smiled. "That's it." She cleared her throat. "Would you like to check your balance, sir?" She grinned, and Wren laughed.

"Yes, please. I'd like to check my balance."

Shawna hit a key, a printer worked, and she took the little slip of paper from the machine. She slid it across the counter, her eyes on Wren.

There were too many zeroes, so Wren reread it. He blinked and looked up at her. "Eighty-eight thousand dollars?" It was a massive amount of money for a family farmer in Kentucky.

Shawna smirked and nodded. "Yep. Why do you think your uncle was so upset when he left? Somehow, he knew it was there."

"You can pay off your loan, Wren," Caleb spoke up, and Wren blinked.

Caleb was right, and the realization struck Wren like a hammer. "Holy shit." Wren flinched. "Ah, sorry mom, Mrs. Adams." Both of the women smiled at him and the expletive.

Wren put his fist against his mouth, and he looked at Caleb. His brain ran a thousand miles an hour, and Caleb slowly grinned at him. His square jaw bore the expression in a handsome display.

Wren finally laughed. "Wow." He nodded and clapped a hand on Caleb's meaty shoulder. "I guess I'm really going to be a farmer."