Jump to content
    Devereaux
  • Author
  • 1,616 Words
  • 762 Views
  • 0 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Amoral Essense - 2. Chapter 1

Anderson Valley was a small town. Our biggest, and nearly only, form of manufacturing came from farming. Every man in town would wake up just before sunrise and drive a little ways to what townsmen called Barren Field. There, they would plow, sew, and cultivate the land that mostly consisted of wheat. Daddy worked down in Barren Field everyday. I stayed home and helped Momma with the chores when school was out, that too was presumably a reason I didn’t like the summer.

                       

Mr. Jameson was to come to Anderson to barter up a contract with some big corporation who wanted to buy our wheat and use it as the seed of their whole natural cereals. Daddy said a contract with any big business was their jobs and that before long they would have machines out there doing all the work and soon Anderson Valley would become Metro- whatever that was. Like I said, it was raining the day L. Jameson came into our small town and so the men were home. Around nine thirty we got a telephone call from Clark Wilkerman, Daddy’s best friend and employer in charge of the contracting deal. Mr. Jameson was going to make stops at every Wilkerman Wheat Farm employ’s home and discuss some changes. Ours first.

 

He pulled up into our long gravel driveway in a big red Cadillac that was getting dirty due to the rain and gravel and parked right next to Daddy’s beat and worn Ford F350 pickup. When he stepped out of the car, I was surprised to see that a city man like himself was wearing boots. Momma held open the door with her right arm, holding her cut hand against her apron, so he could hurry in out of the storm. Mr. Jameson nodded at her as he stepped onto the porch and into our home.

“Mr. Luckett? Name’s Jameson, I’m looking into some deals with the company you work for, Wilkerman Wheat Farm.” With a voice like that, so deep and peculiar yet sophisticated, no wonder he became a businessman.

Daddy’s husky voice was nothing to boast about. “I know who ya are.”

“May I?” No one made any signal of approval but Mr. Jameson sat down anyway. Momma went back to her cooking and Daddy to reading his paper. I sat down in the floor beside Daddy’s chair and played with my paper dolls. “Mr. Luckett, inevitably, there will be some changes within your town if this contract goes through.” Daddy opened his mouth to say something from behind his newspaper as Momma brought in a glass of water for our guest.

“Water, Mr. Jameson?” The tension in the room was excessively more than Momma’s nerves could handle so she sighed and went back into the kitchen.

Mr. Jameson continued. “I realize that most country folk like yourselves hate to see a big corporation like ours move in Anderson, but I assure you that along with it you’ll receive more money, more time off, and easier roles on the farm.” Still, there was silence. The man laid his glass on our sidetable and stood. “It’s for the best Mr. Luckett.” He nodded toward Momma again and stared at me for a moment before he walked out of our house.

“You could have at least talked to him, Bill.” Momma threw her dishrag down on the counter and started up the stairs but she only got to about the fourth one before Mr. Jameson’s glass of water fell off the table and shattered on the floor. Momma walked back down and got on her knees to start picking up the pieces. Daddy never looked over his paper. It thundered.

 

Over the next couple of days, news spread that Mr. Jameson went to each employer’s home and each one confronted him with the same attitude as Daddy’s. Momma and the rest of the wives merely chatted while at the corner market about how the town and it’s people were changing the closer the deal came to being final. The only thing I noticed was that there were more newspapers going around than ever before, each one with a big picture of Mr. Jameson on the front. JoJo was the thirteen-year-old boy who delivered our paper every morning. When he brought another one with a front-page article about this deal to our house I had to wonder what was going on.

“JoJo, why’s no one like Mr. Jameson.”

He thought for a minute while he laid our paper in a rocker on the porch. “Well, it’s not that they don’t like him, they don’t like what he’s tryin’ to do.”

“I don’t see nothin’ wrong with it.”

“Neither do I, but we can’t read now can we?” He grabbed another paper from his satchel and held it open in front of him. “We might could know something if we could read these papers.”

I was only in the fourth grade but how I longed to read. Mainly because I wanted to know what kept Daddy so interested. “I can just ask my Momma can’t I?”

“Ann Louise Luckett, you know you ain’t supposed to ask grown folk questions like that!” I was going to ask JoJo why but I figured he might be grown folk too, he was to me. “Ya take care Ann Louise. See ya in church Sunday.” Church next Sunday would be an experience of it’s own.

 

Anderson Methodist was the only church in our town and the only preacher we had was Reverend Molts. Everyone sat down in a pew, fanning themselves, and listening to the Reverend preach. “Second Timothy, chapter three verses one through four says, ‘This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high minded, and lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God.’ I ask you, has the city not been effected with these sins? Has our little town not seen such things? I fear so.”

 

After church, Clark Wilkerman invited all of his friends and employees to his house for dinner. Daddy said we weren’t to go because he was going to brag about himself and the deal that he’s making. JoJo and his family weren’t going either because they’re daddy quit the farm and broke some agreement with Mr. Wilkerman after hearing about the deal. Daddy wasn’t going to quit the farm but he was against the idea so JoJo and all the Quincy’s joined us for supper.

“John Jordon, what’d you reckon you’ll make of yourself? You won’t be a paper boy all your life will ya?” Momma just wanted a conversation.

“Please, ma’am, JoJo.” He picked at some mashed potatoes on his plate. Momma nodded and let him finish. “I want to be a preacher in this here town.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes ‘am. I just want to bring some life to that ol’ Reverend Molts’ sermon.”

Most everyone laughed. “And how would you have preached that sermon tonight, JoJo?”

“If I may?” He stood up infront of his plate, and readied his voice before he began. “Second Timothy, chapter three, verses one through four tells a lot about the end of the world. I’d say it tells a lot about Anderson,” a few people chuckled, “Covetous it says. Ya’ll know Mr. Gibbons will fight over that front pew.” Again, someone laughed, “Boasters?” He continued in a high pitched voice mocking our neighbor Mrs. Ja’Net, “I declare Thelma, you’re still wearing that old raggedy dress. Why, I bought this in Paris. I think we could sum up not only boasting, but proud, heady and high minded all with Mrs. Ja’Net.”

“John Jordon.” Mr. Quincy warned JoJo not to go overboard.

“Blasphemers! My teacher in school even slipped up and called a kid words right before Christmas break. Disobedient to your parents. Ann Louise, you ever do something your Daddy told you not to?” I quickly shook my head no. “Unthankful- did we even say grace before getting our plates?”

“Why, I think you’re right JoJo.” Momma placed her napkin in her lap.

“And lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God. I haven’t seen Frank Ellson in church in years, but I see him with a bottle every…”

“That’s enough John Jordon, sit down.” We ate the rest of our meal in silence until the telephone rang. Daddy left the room for a moment then came back wearing his coat and with a rifle in hand.

He spoke only to Mr. Quincy, “Jameson’s moved in town.” Mr. Quincy got up and followed Daddy out of the house. I had no idea what was going on. Momma acted like nothing was of concern.

“Martha, I have the greatest recipe for that apple pie a la mode Ja’Net brought to the cookout last fall…” Dinner was over.

“Mrs. Luckett, may Ann Louise and I be dismissed?”

“Stay in the yard.”

“Ma’am, we kinda wanted to go to that big rock by Barren Field and look at the stars.” Momma and Mrs. Quincy exchanged looks and then agreed to let us go, but that’s the only place we were to travel to.

“You may not ever disobey your Daddy, but you have your Momma.” JoJo informed me.

“No I haven’t!”

“Oh yea? Well, we passed Barren Field and that big rock minutes ago.” He walked on but I stopped.

Copyright © 2011 Devereaux; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this story. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new chapters.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

There are no comments to display.

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here: Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..