Anna on the Farm (9 page)

"Oh, the children were just making a rumpus in the hay," Uncle George says.

Anna opens her eyes just in time to see Uncle George wink at her. She grins and swallows a big gulp of lemonade.

"If Theodore was teasing Anna, I want you to give him a good thrashing, George," Aunt Aggie says.

"Theodore wasn't doing anything," Anna says quickly.

"Where has that boy gone off to?" Aunt Aggie asks.

"I reckon he went over to Homer and Henry's place," Uncle George tells her.

"I was so tired of those boys." Anna sighs and picks up her book. "Now I can read in peace."

I
T'S
T
HURSDAY NIGHT.
A
NNA'S WEEK AT THE FARM IS
more than half over. Everyone is sitting on the porch, watching the stars come out. Anna is waiting for the moon to swing up above the maples. Soon she'll be sitting on the steps in Baltimore with Mother and Father, looking at the moon and thinking about her aunt and uncle and Theodore far away in Beltsville.

Just before bedtime, Uncle George asks Anna and Theodore if they would like to go to market with him on Saturday.

"You must go to bed very early tomorrow, long before dark," he tells them. "And you must get up very early Saturday morning, long before sunrise."

Anna and Theodore look at each other and grin. Going to bed while it's still light and getting up while it's still dark is upside down, but it sounds like fun.

Friday afternoon, Anna and Theodore help Uncle George load his wagon with baskets of tomatoes, corn, potatoes, cabbage, peaches, and grapes. It's hard work. The baskets are heavy and the sun is hot.

After an early supper, Aunt Aggie sends Theodore and Anna upstairs to bed. It's hard to go to sleep. The summer sun slants across the wall and presses against Anna's closed eyelids. Birds sing. Uncle George's dog barks. The day's heat is trapped in the house. Anna tosses and turns. The more she tries to sleep, the more she stays awake. Finally, she gives up and begins to read
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.

Just about the time it gets too dark to read, Anna falls asleep. The next thing she knows, Aunt Aggie is shaking her shoulder. "Time to get up," she says softly.

Sleepily, Anna slides out of bed and gropes for her overalls. It's pitch-black darkest night. The moon is low in the sky, just above the apple trees in the orchard. There's not even a glimmer of daylight.

Anna and Theodore eat their breakfast. They are too sleepy to talk to each other, too sleepy to be excited, too sleepy to open their eyes all the way. Uncle George is outside, harnessing the horses.

"Run along now," Aunt Aggie tells Anna and Theodore. "Don't keep your uncle waiting."

Anna stumbles toward the door and staggers down the porch steps. Uncle George swings her up on the wagon seat and sits Theodore beside her. Taking the reins, he clucks to the horses. "Walk on, Bess," he says. "Walk on, Alf."

The horses are sleepy, too. They walk slowly, heads down.

"When will the sun come up?" Anna asks Uncle George. She's never seen a sunrise before, not once in her whole life.

"Sometime around six," Uncle George says. "By then, we ought to be in Washington, D.C., setting up my vegetable stall."

Anna rests her head against Uncle George's shoulder and watches the sky, hoping to see it turn pink. The wagon bumps and sways over the ruts in the road. Crickets chirp in the dark fields. A small breeze rustles the leaves. Slowly, Annas eyes close.

When Anna wakes up, it's still dark. They are in Washington, D.C., just outside the market on New York Avenue. Uncle George's wagon is surrounded by other wagons. Horses stamp their feet and neigh. Chickens squawk, a rooster crows, geese honk. Farmers shout greetings to each other as they unload their fruits and vegetables.

"Wake up, you two," Uncle George says. "Help me set up my stall."

Anna and Theodore work so hard they miss the sunrise. Anna is disappointed, but Uncle George laughs.

"My goodness," he says, "don't fret, Anna. The sun will rise tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Why, that old sun will go on rising long after you and I are gone. You can see it any day if you get up early enough."

All morning Anna and Theodore help Uncle George sell tomatoes and potatoes, corn and cabbage, peaches and grapes to city people who can't grow their own fruit and vegetables. Some of the women are cooks for rich people, and some are housewives like Mother. They squeeze the tomatoes, they peel back the husks and examine the corn kernels, they sniff the cabbage, they pinch the grapes. If they see a worm, they throw the vegetable back on the cart. If they find a rotten spot in a peach, they throw it back, too. They are just as picky as Mother, Anna thinks.

By noon, Uncle George's vegetables and fruit are sold. The customers are gone. At last, it's time to go home. Anna is almost too tired to eat the sandwich Aunt Aggie packed for her.

Before they leave the city, Uncle George drives the children past the Capitol and the Washington Monument. Neither Anna nor Theodore has ever been to Washington before. They have never seen such grand buildings. The white marble glows in the summer sunlight. Children run and play on the grass. Ladies and gentlemen stroll along wide paths. Pigeons strut at their feet, searching for crumbs.

As Uncle George turns the horses toward home, Anna and Theodore sit on the back of the wagon. They watch the Capitol shrink to the size of the tiny model

Aunt May keeps on her mantel as a souvenir of her one and only trip to Washington. Anna promises herself she'll come back when she's older and stroll on the shady walkways, taking in all the sights. Maybe she'll buy a souvenir and keep it on her mantel, just like Aunt May.

During the long ride home, the sun beats down on the fields. Theodore takes off his shoes and dangles his bare feet off the back of the wagon. Anna's toes feel pinched and her feet are hot. Like Thoedore, she takes off her shoes and lets the summer breeze cool her feet. How will she bear to wear shoes every day when she goes home to the city?

At last, Uncle George pulls the horses to a stop beside the house. Anna and Theodore jump down from the wagon. At the same moment, the kitchen door opens and out steps Father, shouting, "Surprise, Anna, surprise!"

Anna squeals with delight and dashes across the yard. Her bare feet fly over the pebbles and stones. She runs up the steps, way ahead of Theodore, and flings her arms around Father.

Behind Father, Mother cries, "Anna, what are you wearing? What have you done to your hair? Where are your shoes?"

Anna steps back from Father and stares at Mother. "These are my farm clothes," she says. "Aunt Aggie gave them to me."

"I sent you here in a pretty dress looking like a lady," Mothers says, her face red. "And now look at you! Anna, what am I to think?"

Father starts to laugh. "We thought we were surprising Anna," he tells Mother, "but it seems she's surprised us."

"Indeed she has." Mother does not laugh. "Come inside with me this moment, Anna Sherwood."

As Anna follows Mother into the house, she hears Theodore say, "Is Anna getting a spanking?"

"No," says Father, no doubt disappointing Theodore. "I imagine she's about to have a bath."

"That's even worse than a spanking," Theodore says.

"Agnes," Mother says, "I cannot believe you permitted Anna to wear overalls and go barefoot. Why, she's not even clean."

Aunt Aggie shrugs. "Anna's in the country, not the city. Things are different here, Lizzie."

"But look at her face." Mother snatches Theodores old hat off Annas head and points at her sunburned nose and her freckles. "In Baltimore, proper girls don't get sunburned. They don't have freckles. And only servants wear their hair in braids."

While Mother and Aunt Aggie quarrel, Anna looks from one to the other. If Aunt May were here, Mother would have switched to German by now, but, like Father, Aunt Aggie doesn't speak any language except English. For once, Anna can understand every word Mother says.

Taking a deep breath, Aunt Aggie says, "A bath and a hairbrush is all Anna needs."

"The best soap in the world won't scrub off sunburn and freckles," says Mother.

"They'll fade," says Aunt Aggie. "In no time, Anna will be her usual ladylike self."

Behind Mother's back, Anna makes a face. She doesn't want to be her old ladylike self. She wants to spend the whole summer on the farm. Go barefoot every day. Wear raggedy overalls and braids and Theodore's old straw hat. Never wash her face or hands or take a bath.

While Mother brushes Annas hair, Aunt Aggie heats water on the stove and fills a round tub in the kitchen for Annas bath. She puts a screen around it so Anna will have privacy.

In Baltimore, Anna's house has hot and cold running water. She bathes in a big porcelain tub with claw feet. When she's clean, she pulls the plug and away the water goes, down the pipes with a loud gurgle and into the sewer.

"Scrub hard, Anna," Mother says.

Anna takes the soapy cloth from Mother and begins to wash. "Don't be cross with me," she says.

Mother sighs. "Oh, Anna, it's for your own good," she says. "I want to raise you properly."

Anna studies Mother's face. She wishes she could tell her everything she's done on the farm, but she's not sure Mother wants to hear about the goat or the rope swing in the barn or the day she went swimming in her underwear.

"I missed you and Father," she says, "and I'm happy you're here."

Mother kisses Anna's cheek. "I missed you, too," she says. "The house was so empty without you, so quiet."

Anna slumps down in the tub and stares at her knees rising out of the gray water like two skinny mountain peaks. "I must have been very dirty," she says.

Mother laughs. "You certainly were." She holds out a towel. "Now, get out and let me dry you."

Anna snuggles into the towel. She's glad Mother isn't cross anymore.

A
T FIVE O'CLOCK,
A
NNA LOOKS LIKE A CITY GIRL
again. She's wearing her best white summer dress, mended so neatly Mother hasn't noticed the torn places. Her hair hangs down her back, a little wavy from the braids but as smooth and shiny as Mother's brush could make it. A big white ribbon tied in a bow holds her hair back from her face, which is still freckled despite the lemon juice Mother scrubbed it with.

Worst of all, Anna is wearing shoes and stockings. Her poor feet feel cramped and pinched.

When he sees Anna, Theodore stares at her as if she's a stranger. A city slicker.

Anna doubles her fists, ready to punch Theodore if he says one mean thing, but he surprises her by saying, "Oh, Anna, I'd rather have a whipping than get all dressed up like that."

Anna pictures Theodore in a pretty white lacy dress like hers and starts to laugh. "I don't think anyone would make you wear a dress, Theodore!"

Theodore laughs, too. "You know what I mean."

Just then Aunt Aggie calls Theodore to come inside and get ready for the church supper.

Theodore tries to run away, but Aunt Aggie is too fast for him. She catches him by an overall strap and pulls him into the house. "You can't go to church looking like that," she says.

When Theodore comes back outside, he looks different, too. His hair has been combed, and his face and hands scrubbed. Instead of overalls, he's wearing a white shirt. His collar is starched so stiff he can barely turn his head. His white knee-length pants show off his skinny legs. His shiny shoes look as tight as Anna's. All in all, Theodore is even more miserable than Anna.

"It's only because of the food," he tells Anna. "Aunt Aggie said I won't get anything to eat if I don't dress up. Not even a piece of fried chicken."

Uncle George steps onto the porch. Like Father, he's wearing a suit, but his is black, not white. "Well, well," Uncle George says to Anna and Theodore, "look at you two, a perfect lady and a perfect gentleman."

Anna and Theodore both scowl at their uncle. They do not feel complimented. Neither wants to be a perfect lady or gentleman. What they want is fried chicken and potato salad, baked beans and pickles, corn on the cob and cole slaw, cake, pie, cookies, and homemade ice cream. If they must be ladies and gentlemen to get it, that's what they'll be. But only for tonight. Tomorrow they'll be themselves again. Or at least Theodore will. Poor Anna will be riding the train to Baltimore.

Uncle George drives everyone to church in the farm wagon. Anna and Theodore sit on the front seat beside him. Mother, Aunt Aggie, and Father sit in the back.

St. John's Church sits on a hill above the Baltimore Pike. Its red brick walls glow in the late-afternoon sunlight and its steeple pokes high into the sky. The grass and dirt around the church are full of farm wagons and automobiles, a Model T Ford here, a cart there. The horses wait patiently, their heads down. The women go inside, carrying covered baskets. The men stand around in groups talking. Boys and girls play tag in the graveyard.

Mother eyes the noisy children and takes Annas hand. "Come with me," she says. "We'll help the women prepare the food."