A Place in the Country

By Ruby Scranton Jones

(Previous story)

Story 3: Water

As Ellen Martin washed the supper dishes, she looked out the window and saw her husband talking to Mr. Hawkins, their neighbor on the north. When he came in, John said, “It’s our turn to irrigate at eleven tonight. Mr. Hawkins says he’ll turn the water in when his time is up. He’s been taking care of this place, you know.”

“But John! Eleven! How can you see to do it at night?” Ellen objected.

“Oh, I’ll take that old lantern I found in the garage.” John sat down and rested his arms on the table. Ellen noticed ow tired his eyes looked. She thought he was even thinner than when they came.

“You can’t do it,” she said positively. ‘You were too tired to eat your supper after working on that fence all day. Let it go.”

“I can’t do that,” John answered, just as positively. “We get the water only two hours in about two weeks and you know how dry the orchard is. It’s just one of those things that every farmer expects.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Ellen hung the dish towel on the rope stretched over the stove. “You can tell me how.”

“No!” John got up and started for the door. “I won’t have my wife doing man’s work. You do far too much as it is.”

“Nonsense.” Ellen caught John’s arm and pulled him back to the chair. “Every farm woman expects to help out wherever she’s needed. I’ll get the lantern and fill it.”

After the children were in bed, John wearily explained the little he knew about irrigation. “And do see that those peach trees tack of the garage get plenty. I’ve an idea they’ll bring in more than all the other trees put together. And we’re sure going to need that fruit money.” When Ellen was lighting the lantern, he added, “You’d better take your sweater. There’s a cool breeze at night.”

So, wearing her oldest shoes and sweater and carrying the lantern and the hoe, Ellen started out. Immediately swarms of mosquitoes circled around her head and settled on every exposed bit of flesh. She could even feel them bite through her heavy cotton stockings. She pulled the sweater up around her neck and buttoned it, even though she was already too warm. She was glad John had not thought about mosquitoes or he would have made even more objections.

As she reached the far corner of their place where the water came in from the canal, she saw dark streaks down the first two ditches. In stepping over one of these she slipped and sank into mud over her ankles. She set down the lantern, pulled her feet free, and started to direct the water with the hoe.

When she stopped a moment to brush off the mosquitoes, she noticed how dark it was. The light at Hawkins’ had gone out soon after she had started. She turned toward her own house. It was dark, too, so John must have gone to bed. She had never been out in the dark like this before, and she began to feel a little nervous. In town when she had been out at night, there had been street lights and auto lights. She looked around. There was not a light anywhere—not a sound. It couldn’t be much different if she were all alone I the world, she thought. But she mustn’t waste time. She picked up the lantern and started over to the next ditch.

Suddenly, she heard a crunching sound and saw a huge dark shape by the fence. Without a second look, she started to run toward the house. But she stumbled on the uneven ground and fell flat, throwing the lantern before her. It went out, and as she quickly scrambled to her feet, she remembered she had brought no matches.

She looked back. The moon was just coming up over the distant mountains. The dark shape was n the same place and now she heard a low “moo.” It was only a cow, she concluded, and, anyway, it couldn’t get through the fence. How silly of her. She left the lantern and went back. She knew she would soon be able to see better without it.

When she was about half done, she sat down on the ground to rest awhile and rub the welts that were rising all over her legs and face. She looked towards the nearest tree and saw eyes gleaming from the shadows. All the stories she had heard of coyotes, wolves, and pumas flashed through her mind. But this time she picked up the hoe and advanced, thinking nothing much worse could happen to her anyway. She heard a friendly “meow,” and laughed out loud as she reached down. A dog howled in the distance and the cat disappeared.

At last she was ready to water the peach trees. When she turned the water that way, she noticed that it wasn’t flowing so freely. Soon it stopped altogether. She walked back along the main ditch and saw a man with a flashlight at the canal gate. he was shutting off her water.

“I’m not through,” Ellen called indignantly. “I haven’t watered the last row.”

The man turned the flashlight on her face as he said gruffly, “I can’t help that, sister. Your time’s up.”

Ellen had to turn away from the light. She couldn’t see the man at all, but she knew it must be Mr. Ford from the farm to the south. What was it she had heard about Mr. Ford anyway?

“I’ve got to have more water,” Ellen was really angry now.

“Well, you can’t. Don’t you know people have been shot for taking water out of turn?”

“I don’t believe it. That’s just silly.”

“Try it and see.” The man laughed harshly, and then Ellen remembered the story about a fight over water a year ago.

As he followed the canal to his place, Ellen noticed how big he was.

“Just a bully,” she muttered and started back to the house. “I didn’t suppose country people would be like that.”

Her anger made her hot, and the heat made the mosquito bites sting. She got a pan of water and washed her muddy feet. Then she rubbed salt on the bites. She thought she had never been so miserable in her life.

When she went to the bedroom John asked sleepily, “How did you make out?”

“Fine, just fine,” she answered as she crawled into bed. She certain wasn’t going to tell John how impolite that man had been. After all, he was a neighbor and they’d have to get along with him.

She tried to lie still and not scratch the bites. tomorrow she’d pump water from the well and carry it to the peach trees. Next time she’d take John’s watch and keep track of the time. if she didn’t let cows and cats and the dark bother her, she would do better.

And so, finally, she fell asleep.

(To be continued)