Six Miles From Nashville (10 page)

“I see.”

“We can do it. First, we are going to see my friend and have some papers drawn up. Then we will be ready to meet with the top brass of this label you are talking about,” Bill said.

“Sure, draw up some papers if you want. We will have plenty of papers, but do what you want.”

“Thanks, we will, and Mr. Sawyer will come with us for the signing of all the papers involved.”

The man stood. “Fine. You will see that we are on the up and up here. You have a good business head. That will play well for you here in what you want to accomplish in your career.”

They stepped out onto the sidewalk
of the busy town. “Why don’t we just get on back to the cafe? We can sort out our thoughts on what kind of song we want to write about on the way,” Bill said.

Sweetie saw them coming toward the car. She ran up to them to find out how the meeting went.

“Let’s get in the car and get on back,” he said.

Betty sat in the back seat and stared at the buildings they passed in the car. It didn’t seem real to be in Music City, USA. She felt small and insignificant.

A large white Cadillac Eldorado convertible passed them. The driver wore a large Stetson hat. The next car was a red Monte Carlo.
That’s more my style.
Amongst the new cars were many Volkswagen bugs.
That’s probably more like what I could afford. If I could run like the Six Million Dollar Man, I wouldn’t have to think about driving a car.

Bill broke the silence in the car, “Bet, I would say we might think of writing something upbeat. People on
American bandstand always want to have music that they can dance to. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t know how they can call the music John Denver writes, Country and Western, but I like it. Things are changing in the music business so we need to move with the changes.”

“
Honestly, you are the boss here,” Betty said.

“First we have to stop at Sawyer’s place and get him up to speed on the set up they are
proposing.”

“Now don’t let him intimidate you, Honey,” Sweetie said.

“Here we are. I want both you girls in there to hear what he has to say. Between the three of us, we can remember the details.”

Chapter 12

Johnny Davis gripped the page in his hand. He had read it every day since he received it in the mail three months ago. He had planned on taking out for Nashville the day after it arrived, but then, he wasn’t expecting his dad to have a heart attack. He couldn’t leave Mom with all the work on the farm. It was almost time to harvest the wheat. There was no money to pay harvester crews to do the work, so it was up to him. His mother would do what she could to help him, but her hands were pretty much full with the care of Dad.

He watched his two younger brothers as they finished their bowls of cereal. They were going to be his crew this year. Devon was 15 and Zachary was 13. Neither of them had driven the grain truck much. Last year at the end of the season Dad had let them each drive to the grain elevator with a couple of loads.

The biggest problem he could see was loading the truck from the combine. They didn’t have a grain cart, so they would be sidling up to the combine so it could dump the grain into the bed of the truck. He didn’t know if they could hold the wheel steady under the stress of the work. They were the only help he had that could wait for a paycheck.

“Boys, I need you in the fields today...and every
day until the harvest is done.”

“Sure Johnny, we always bring out lunch. What’s the big deal?”

“You don’t get my meaning. You are the harvest crew this year. What with Dad being laid up and all.”

Devon’s dark eyes bore into
Johnny’s. “We are driving the combine?”

“I will handle the combine. You and Zach will run the grain trucks from the field to the elevator. Don’t forget to sign the tickets this time.”

“Zach is too young to drive.” Devon said as he folded his arms and tilted his chin upward.

Johnny marched out the kitchen door
, letting the screen slam against the house.

“Are you saying that I can drive?” Zach asked
, running to catch up with his big brother.

The older brother swung around to face the youngest. “Farm families can let younger members drive in a pinch. That’s the way it always has been.”

Devon caught up with them and listened.

“I need you two to work together. Zach, you watch from the edge of the field from the truck. When I stop, you can drive next to the combine and I will offload to the truck. Go directly to the elevator and then back to the field. When it gets about noon after your next loads, go to the house and throw together a lunch and bring it out here to us.”

“Devon, after Zach gets his first load, watch for me to stop for you to get your load from the combine. By the time you get to the elevator, Zach will be back for another load. If we work together and don’t have any bad breakdowns, we can get this field done quick like. It will never happen if we bicker amongst ourselves. Do you have your walkies?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t get on them unnecessarily. I will be telling you what to do from them. Listen for me,” Johnny said.

He looked at his younger siblings with pity. “We have to do this for Dad. We can do this. You two are good farm boys.”

“Yeah, we can do it,” Zach said.

Devon
took a key from the hook and jogged to one of the grain trucks. He waved nervously to his brothers as he drove it to the gasoline tank to fill it up for the first time that day. Zach followed and waited to fill his.

Johnny greased the zerks on the combine and checked it over before he turned the key and the monster roared to life. He eased it out of the large
round top and onto the first field.

Even though he felt the pressure of getting the harvest in, there was nothing like driving a combine through tall golden wheat. He was pleased when Zachary told him that the man at the elevator said the moisture content was not too high. From the looks of the tickets Devon and Zach handed him at noon, the dry land  was making about thirty-five bushels to the acre. Dad would be glad when Mom reported the results to him. Hopefully, there would be enough to pay some of the mounting hospital bills. Dad had worried about the costs so much that his recovery was hampered. The doctor finally allowed Mom to bring him home. She promised to not leave his side or let him work. That was a tall order, but she was doing it.

Johnny helped his mother put the bed next to the window in their bedroom. He rigged the
mattress with a board ramp under it so that his dad could recline on it as he was in an upright position. It might have been easier to rent a hospital bed, but that would have taken more money and a day for travel to town to get one and bring it in.

Woodwork was second nature to Johnny and the project didn’t take much time. His dad was glad he figured a way for him to see the harvest in the fields close to the house.

Everything Johnny did on the farm was to please his dad. He looked over the cloudless sky and prayed, “Father, please help us get the crop in with no troubles. The equipment is old, but it is good. The wheat is in good shape and the boys are agreeable in the work we have to do. Please let the weather hold and be with the neighbors and friends who are also harvesting. Let us see Your hand in all that we do.

“Please help Dad recover soon. I need him and his wisdom to keep going on. And...Betty. Don’t let her think that I have run out on her. Show me what to do. Amen.”

He stopped the combine and waited for Zach to make his approach.
The kid has learned fast and done a good job. Well, so has Devon. I hope there will be money left over to pay them something for their work.

After off-loading the grain, he put the combine in gear and began cutting more large swaths from the land. It wouldn’t be long before they moved to the next field.

Soon the sun was dipping behind the table land. He turned on his headlights and continued cutting on the last section of land. They would be finished by midnight.

The wind kicked up and
threatening, angry clouds moved in. It rained the final night after the crop was in. They put the equipment into the round top and headed for the house. Large hailstones pelted them as they ran for cover.

“Good thing we got the wheat in,” Devon yelled as he opened the screen door. He held it open and gri
pped it tightly lest it fly off its hinges. He let his brothers walk through first.

Mrs. Davis
ran to the door with towels in her arms. Each of them grabbed one and began drying off in the mudroom. Their clean clothes were folded on the washer for them to take to their rooms. Zach grabbed the stack of his clothes and ran for the bathroom. “I need a shower,” he yelled.

“I’m next,” Devon said as he looked at Johnny to see if he would challenge him.

Johnny put his hand on Devon’s wet head and tossed the unruly hair into his eyes. The boy sported the same hair cut that Johnny had. Devon’s light brown hair was straight and touched the bottom of his chin when tossed over his eyes. Johnny’s had a bit of curl to it and seemed to never stay exactly the way he planned for it to look.

Johnny nudged his brother and said, “Don’t use all the hot water. I need one
, too.” He took his folded clothes to his room and put them away before he stuck his head into his mom and dad’s room.

“The crop is in, Dad.”

“Good,” he said.

“You boys worked like
dogs out there, son,” Mrs. Davis said.

“You would be proud of the boys. I think they grew up a little these past few days,” Johnny said.

Mr. Davis turned onto his side and grabbed Johnny’s hand. “Be sure to winterize the equipment. Don’t wait until later. It is best to do it as soon as harvest is over.”

“The hail caught us before we could do it tonight, but we will get on it tomorrow.”

“Atta boy.”

Johnny reveled in seeing the look of pride in his dad’s eyes. “I think you had a good harvest, Dad.”

“Dad and I have been tallying up the tickets as you brought them to us. We think it will cover everything we need taken care of. I think we should go ahead and sell the wheat instead of holding it. Dad wants to wait a little bit for the prices to go up.”

“If we knew what grain prices were going to do, we would be rich folk, but I am not the farmer Dad is. He has made a living from this place for a lot longer than most folk around here.”

“True,” she said.

“I think we did good by just doing
dry land wheat this year. Our production costs were down a lot. I don’t think the extra bushels per acre would have done anything except cover the costs of irrigating. Fact is, I just wasn’t up to par with this heart thing going on. I couldn’t move all that irrigation pipe and keep everything going right. You know, son, it makes me sick to see all that water flowing in the ditch when the irrigation pipe isn’t tended properly. That water is what gives this place life,” Mr. Davis spoke with fervor.

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you are feeling better. You climbed right on that soapbox and are fit for giving speeches.”

“That isn’t a speech. It is a fact,” Mr. Davis said.

“Whatever it is, I am glad to have my dad back.”

Devon stuck his head in the door saying, “John, the shower is yours. I think there might be a cup or two of hot water left. Although, you might want to give it some time to heat up. We wouldn’t want you to be pelted with ice in there.”

Somehow Johnny knew that Devon would find it funny if he were pelted with ice cubes in the shower.

He and Devon stayed in the room with their mom and dad until Zachary joined them. Johnny was impressed with the respect they displayed to their parents. Even though talk of high school sports and lessons were acceptable subjects for discussion, it was refreshing to hear them speak as adults with concern for the things in their parents’ life.

I suppose that heart attack
scared them as much as it did me. I am so glad Dad is still with us.