Timecachers (31 page)

“A real breakthrough would be a machine to harvest peanuts,” he said. “There’s a lot of manual labor in the digging and shelling of peanuts.

“I don’t think that the average farmer is going to be able to afford all the new machines. He is going to have to find a solution, because those who can afford them will easily out-produce those who can’t. That’s why I think there will be a good living for someone who provides the service of these new inventions to the farmers who don’t have them. Perhaps a cooperative of a sort.”

Adam admired Jimmy’s entrepreneurial spirit, and was even a little bit envious that Jimmy was going to be living through one of the most revolutionary periods of industrialization. Over the next few decades, the country would experience a major change from agriculture to industrial, and Jimmy was preparing himself to be at the forefront. Adam’s envy quickly turned to dismay, however, when he considered the more pressing events Jimmy was going to have to live through. Was this really going to happen? Would Georgia drive this energetic and visionary young man and his family from his home and squash his dreams? Even worse, would society lose the contributions he was surely going to make?

“Jimmy,” said Adam, “have you thought about what you will do if they go through with the Indian Removal? If all your people are moved west, your ideas will still be valid and maybe even more lucrative in an area with more need and less competition.”

“No, no,” said Jimmy. “There will be more need and less competition, as you say, but everything I’ve invested in is here. How would I learn about effective agricultural technology without my farm? Not to mention that I am well known here. Even some of the white settlers here come to me to share ideas and discuss the new inventions.”

“But if you have no choice…” said Adam.

“I can’t allow myself to believe that will happen,” Jimmy said. “Certainly justice will prevail before the government allows our lands to be taken from us. I know countless treaties have been broken, and often we are not given an equal status with the whites, but both the white nation and the Cherokee nation have progressed over the years. Besides, isn’t that what this country is supposed to be about; freedom and opportunity for all?”

Adam didn’t reply. Jimmy was correct about the freedoms our country promised, but he was forgetting that during this period much of the country had strong ambitions of expansionism. The indigenous people in this country had been set up as sovereign nations, and many leaders believed they were not accorded the same rights as American citizens. The Indians were seen as impediments to their divine right to expand the country, and the people were convinced it was their Christian duty to eliminate any obstacles. Adam knew there was no appropriate response to justify the misguided, heinous actions his country was about to commit.

They reached the farmhouse after making a quick stop at the windmill so Jimmy could show Adam how easy it made getting water. The house was a simple, one-story frame house with board siding painted white, and a pitched roof covered with wooden shingles. A neat, spacious front porch was adorned with the obligatory pair of rocking chairs, and a Cherokee
kanona
for pounding cornmeal. There was also a weaving frame loom with skeins of yarn and some partially finished fabric in place.

Jimmy called out to Rebecca, but there was no answer and the house was quiet. “Let’s check around back,” Jimmy said. As they rounded the corner of the house, they nearly ran into Rebecca. She was returning from the vegetable garden carrying a large basket full of carrots, beans, onions, greens, and strawberries. She hoisted the basket onto her shoulder, gave Jimmy a kiss, and said, “Oh, there you are! I thought I heard you calling.” She flashed a gleaming smile at Adam and said, “
Osiyo
.”

She was strikingly beautiful. Tall and willowy with long jet-black hair reaching nearly to her waist, her athletic, pulchritudinous figure graced the homemade cotton dress as well as any photographer’s model sporting the latest feminine fashions. She radiated the healthful look of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors. She showed no signs of being pregnant, or if she did, she hid it well.

“
Osiyo
,” Adam stuttered. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

Back home, Adam thought, Rebecca would have had a difficult time not winding up as someone’s trophy wife, especially if her personality was as dazzling as her looks. He was beginning to feel envious of Jimmy again.

“This is Adam Hill,” said Jimmy. “He’s one of the people from the future I told you about. Only don’t tell anybody. John and Benjamin don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Rebecca said. “Do they think people will not understand? I think most would accept it just fine.”

“Yes, me too. I guess it’s like one of those secrets everyone already knows. I think they mostly want to avoid too much talk, which might draw attention from the whites,” Jimmy said. “We’re supposed to just say they’re from up north.

“Adam is going to stay with us for a few days. He has offered to give us a hand with chores for a while, and I hope he will take a look at some of my machinery.”

“Very well,” she replied. “If he is going to help with chores, though, maybe he’ll start by taking this heavy basket of vegetables.”

“Of course,” said Adam, clumsily taking the basket. As soon as Rebecca was free of the basket, she and Jimmy embraced, circling their arms around each other’s waist.

“You shouldn’t be carrying that anyway,” said Jimmy, giving her a hug.

“Now Jimmy,” she said with mock sternness, “do not start that again. You know the baby is a long way off, and I’m perfectly able to do my chores. Would you have me sit around and do nothing but grow fat for the next six months? Honestly,” she said to Adam, “sometimes he’s like an old mother.”

“I’m sure he’s just concerned for your welfare and the health of the baby,” Adam said, shifting the weight of the basket and beginning to regain his composure. “Jimmy spoke very proudly of you and his future child on our walk here.”

“Oh, I know. He is just being my big, strong protector,” she said, tightening her grip on Jimmy’s waist and winking at him. “You must be getting tired of holding that basket by now. Please bring it into the kitchen, then you men can rest and talk on the porch. I will bring some
gahnohayna
for you to drink and begin preparing our evening meal.”

They entered through the back door of the house, directly into the kitchen, where Adam dropped off the basket of vegetables and then followed Jimmy to the front porch. For a nineteenth century farmhouse, it was remarkably contemporary. The kitchen had a huge woodstove for cooking, a very modern item for 1838. Most people during this time, other than the very rich, still cooked on a hearth. The furnishings were still wooden, hand-made pieces, and they closely resembled the antique furniture Adam associated with New England style. More finely carved decorations, chairs with delicate spindles, and cupboards rather than the plain, austere board shelves in Benjamin Rogers’ kitchen. One cupboard even had mullions dividing an opening in the cabinet door, although no glass had been installed.

They took their seats on the porch, and Jimmy retrieved his pipe and filled it with tobacco from a small pouch. He held out the pouch to Adam and offered it to him.

“No, thanks,” Adam said. “You know, in my future, they have determined that smoking is bad for you and can shorten your life. There are many people who don’t smoke, and many places where it’s prohibited.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “That is too bad. The Cherokee make many important decisions while sharing a pipe, and many treaties were sealed with smoke. It seems the treaties were worse for our health than the smoking. Might be better to outlaw them rather than tobacco.”

Jimmy pulled a small box from his pocket, and held it up for Adam to see. “These are probably a common item for you in the future, but now they are rare.” He opened the box, and took out a stick with a glob of chemicals on the end, and struck it on the side of the box. The match sputtered into flame with a cloud of smoke that smelled like old, burning tires. Jimmy lit his pipe with the flickering match, adding to the smoke billowing around his head. “They are called Lucifers,” he said, “probably because they smell of brimstone. I think they will become more popular if they can make them smell less obnoxious.”

“That’s for sure,” said Adam, waving away the foul-smelling cloud. “You might not want to breathe too much of the smoke from those things,” he said, remembering that the original matches were made from some pretty hazardous chemicals. “I think the tobacco is a lot safer than those fumes.”

“The future must be a very dangerous place,” said Jimmy, “with so much concern about such a simple thing as smoking.”

Adam considered telling him about the advances that had been made in public health. Considering the exceptional health of everyone he had met here, compared to the sedentary lifestyle of many in his own time, he decided it was best to change the subject. “You are a very fortunate man, Jimmy. You have a fine, elegant home, a very beautiful wife, and a keen sense for business.”

“I can agree with the beautiful wife part,” said Rebecca, overhearing as she delivered the mugs of
gahnohayna
and embarrassing Adam once again.

“Thank you,” said Jimmy. “But try not to spoil Rebecca with such talk.” He gave Rebecca a wink. “Yes, I sometimes can’t believe my good fortune. I worry that one day Rebecca will realize she is much too beautiful for me and go marry a rich chief like Joe Vann.”

“Now why would I want a smelly old leathery chief when I have a strong, handsome man like you?” she said. “And today I am lucky to have a handsome visitor as well, so what more could a woman want,” she winked at Adam. “Now I must go prepare a fine meal for two handsome men,” she said. The two men admired her lithe form sashay back to the kitchen.

They sipped their drinks, Jimmy puffing his pipe, and sat in silence for a short time. Looking out over the farm, Adam could see several outbuildings, and a flock of sheep grazing in one of the fields. “Do all those sheep belong to you?” he asked.

Jimmy exhaled a ring of tobacco smoke and nodded. “Yes, they are one of our best sources of income. I raise sheep for both meat and wool. The breed I have is good for both. You can see some of the fabric Rebecca is weaving there in the loom,” he said, pointing his pipe at the weaving frame. “The wool cloth she makes is very much in demand, and provides us good income.”

“I guess the wool crop is a lot less labor intensive than cotton,” said Adam.

Jimmy looked at Adam incredulously, nearly dropping his pipe. “I see you have no experience with sheep,” he said. “Wool production is highly labor intensive, and is another opportunity for modernization. A person good at shearing could make a living doing that alone!”

“I can see where the spinning and weaving could be pretty time consuming, but don’t you just cut the wool off of the sheep, and then spin it into yarn?”

“There are many steps the wool must go through before it is ready for spinning,” Jimmy said. “Cleaning the fleece isn’t as easy as it looks, and then it must be picked, carded or combed, then roved, and possibly dyed…” He studied Adam for a moment, and flashed an impish smile. “But you are in luck. We still have sheep to be sheared, so you will be able to experience the full process for yourself. We have just enough time to get started before Rebecca is finished preparing the evening meal.”

Jimmy shouted through the door to let Rebecca know where they would be, and then motioned for Adam to follow him toward the barn. They walked to a pen area adjacent to the barn where two sheep stood, warily watching the men approach.

“I use this area as a catching pen,” said Jimmy. “These are the next to be sheared, so the first thing we need to do is catch one. Good luck,” he said, holding open the gate for Adam.

“Uh, okay,” said Adam. “I just pick one and catch it? Any particular way?”

“Anyway you can,” said Jimmy. “Try not to pull their wool too much. They don’t like that.”

“Are they going to try to bite me?” Adam asked tentatively.

“No,” said Jimmy, “that’s not likely. But watch out for their hooves. If you make them really mad they might try to kick you.”

“Great,” mumbled Adam.

Adam entered the pen and looked at the sheep. The sheep looked back at him. One sheep was slightly smaller than the other, so he selected that one as his target. He figured it had smaller hooves, so getting kicked might hurt less. He approached his intended victim slowly, until he got to within about ten feet, and then darted toward it. The sheep easily dodged him, running together with the larger sheep along the wall of the pen. Adam swerved, made another dive toward the sheep, and came no closer than he did the first time.

“They’re fast little critters,” he said to Jimmy. “I can see I’m going to have to be quick.”

Jimmy hooked his thumbs into his pockets and flashed Adam a roguish smile. “You’ll never be quicker than they are; you have to be smarter.”

“In that case I might be in trouble.” Adam took a breath, and tried to nonchalantly saunter up to the animal. He stole a sideways glance at the sheep and was sure he could see amusement in the creature’s rectangular pupils. He walked sideways, trying to approach from behind, but the two animals just continued to circle around the walls of the pen, never allowing Adam to get close enough to grab them.