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In the lonely fields of southern Kentucky the wind was blowing and the
Sun was just as hot as ever. A man, of about 67 years of age, was in those
same fields, just as lonely as the grass he sat in. His long beard was covered in
a mixture of spit and tobacco juice, and he wore a scratchy pair of overalls
with patches everywhere.
This was his home, so naturally he spent all his time here. When he
wasn’t chugging down his beer, he was looking. To the common person it
would look like staring, but if you looked really close you could see his green,
intense eyes moving. He noticed the bluebirds in the trees. The almost orange
hue the sky gave off, and how the grass moved with the wind. What he loved
most of all was the sun. It was so warm and bright.
On this day in fact, the sun was especially warm. The man’s vision was
getting hazy. The sun was closing in. He could remember that he used to sit in
these same lonely fields when he was around 14. The sun was getting brighter,
and brighter. His heart was pounding. He used to be a tall boy, with wiry
brown hair. The colors were shifting and warping. He remembered that he
used to hate living here. The sun was right on top of him. He tried to run
away, but his grandmother doesn’t like to give things up. The sun was right in
his face. He couldn’t breathe. He was gasping for air, he couldn’t take it
anymore. He was slipping. He was trying to pull back life. It was too hard. He
couldn’t do it. So he stopped fighting the sun, he wouldn’t win anyway.
Wendell Jonas, a man of 67, was pronounced dead that same day.
Fifty-three years into the past, the same tall boy of 14 was in the lonely fields of
Southern Kentucky picking corn. He had wiry brown hair, and intense green
eyes. It was the middle of June, and the sun was setting. He would have to
work until dark or else he couldn’t eat anything until dawn the next day. This
was his favorite time of the day. Sunset, the perfect harmony between night
and day. He liked to think of himself as day, and his grandmother night. Always
fighting and arguing.
Just a few more moments, and he would be able to go inside were he
would be welcomed in by a warm screaming match from his grandmother. The
sun was about to go down. The sun was barely in the sky. he took off his gloves.
You couldn’t even see the sun. This was beautiful, a true masterpiece painted
In the sky for me. He was just starting to take in the full effect when my
grandmother called, rather shouted.
“WENDELL JONAS! GET BACK IN HERE, AND STOP DALLYING!”
My grandmother was a spiteful and hateful women. She always wore her
hair up in a bun of tasseled, unkept, gray hair. Her wrinkles looked like little
caves on her face, they were so deep and squishy she probably hid all of her
money in there. When her husband died, she inherited quite a bit of money so
she bought a corn farm. I was forced to work there, I was also her only
employee so I was expected to do the work of ten people, rather then just
one. I marched back in to the house, and kicked my shoes off into the corner.
The carpet was green and looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in years. In the
most comfy chair in the house sat my grandmother reading the newspaper with
one leg crossed over the other.
“Hello,” I spoke calmly and quietly. I found it so hard to lose my temper
with her. She looked up from her newspaper just for a second before putting it
“What do you want?” Ok, relax just keep your cool Wendell.
“Just being polite.” Ok, deep breaths and every thing will go fine.
“After dinner I want you to go mow the yard.” Ok, see? Everything is fine.
“I already did.” She looked up from her newspaper and I already knew I
made the first wrong move.
“Did I ask you if you already did?” She got up from her chair.
“No, you didn’t” Ok, don’t do anything stupid here Wendell.
“THEN GO MOW THE LAWN!” She was in my face now. I could count the
hairs in her nose. It took all my self control not to blow up right back.
“I already did though! How can you expect me to mow a lawn that’s
already been mowed?!?” I knew I crossed the line. My vision instantly turned
into something else. I saw her hand twitch. My instincts kicked in. Before I
could think, before I could do anything about it, my hand snapped up and smacked her across the cheek. My hand was red, but I couldn’t really feel
anything. What I did see though was a gigantic hand print across her face. It
looked like a giant went and hit her. Not a 14 year old boy.
Before I knew what was happening I was up in my room. I through down
my dresser, and shoved its contents into a bag that I withdrew from my
closet. I didn’t know what to do. I was in panic. It was like everything I have
ever known was just erased. I ran down the steps into my grandmothers
bedroom and threw down her glass mirror in a frantic search of money. Glass
shattered everywhere. I was seeing my reflection in 1,000 places. Finally I
found some money, I shoved it into my bag and ran out of her bedroom,
through the living room and out the kitchen.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOUR GOING?!” Her eye was covered by her
hand. I could see raw fury coming out of her nostrils. She was staring at me
with such a stare, it would put soldiers to there mercy.
I stared right back. I didn’t care anymore. I. Was. Done. I was not going
to ever set forth in that nasty field again. Never going to ever pick corn again.
And I was never going to come back here again.
“AWAY! WHERE YOU’LL NEVER FIND ME!” I kicked down the front door.
Amazed by my own strength, I sprinted away from that retched house. Now
that I actually escaped, I didn’t know what to do. I decided the best thing to do
would be to run into the corn field and hide out there for awhile.
My legs were burning when I made it to the field. I ran into the corn
field. I could hear the old hags screams of rage. She would never expect me
to hide in the one place I was running away from.
In my haste to escape I completely forgot about the squirrel traps
hidden in the corn field. I tripped over one and cut my foot open. I made a
sharp intake of breath. It stung. My hole leg went numb. I wasn’t going to be
able to go any farther. I sat down, trying to steady my breathes. I sat like that
for maybe a hour.
Just when I thought it was safe to come out, I noticed an unusual
silence. I couldn’t hear anything. A twig broke under my wait. That’s when I
heard the hounds. Frantic, I laid down flat on my stomach hoping for the best.
I couldn’t hear anything yet, but that was just the calm before a storm.
I could hear there barking. They were tracing me out by smell. I just
realized my mistake right after it was too late. There was nothing I could do. They were going to find
me no matter what I did. I prepared myself as best I could for what I knew
was to come. I heard the stalks of corn brake under the wait of the dogs.
My breath did an intake. The pain was astounding. Dogs were coming at me in
all directions. My skin was braking like it was a puddle on a muddy day. Blood
was everywhere. I couldn’t breathe. My Leg. My Ear. My fingers. Everything
felt like it was in a raging storm of an inferno.
“CALL IT OFF!” Just before I was about to faint someone called it off.
Thank the heavens for that. I looked up to try to see my savior. It was my
“Thank you officer! I was just so worried where my poor grandson
could’ve gone!” I was the only one who could see through her phony smile.
“No problem mam,” said the officer, who was oblivious to the fact that
he was talking to a dirty rotten scumbag. The officer left, and it was just the
two of us.
“Why did you do that, why did you call it off?” I wanted answers. She
could of made this seem like a big accident. She could of gotten rid of me. So
why didn’t she?
“Because, you are my grandson. As much as I hate you, I don’t want you
dead. Besides, you’re the best corn picker I have.” I could just here the sneer
in her voice.
“And I wanted an apology. You shouldn’t of hit me.” Oh, this was just
Getting better and better. She’s right though, I shouldn’t have hit her.
“Now, let’s go back to the house for your punishment.” I could just hear
the smile in her voice as she said that. I knew that I was in for a good, old
fashion beating, and she knew that I knew. A huge malicious smile spread
across her evil and twisted face. I was still limp from the dogs, I couldn’t walk,
I had blood all over my body, I was going to go get beaten, and I knew that I
was stuck here forever. I knew that I would die here. I knew that I would have
to live with my grandmother until I was grown. I knew that I wouldn’t be able
to leave until she died. I was her own little prisoner. Her own little slave.
She won. I lost. Game over.