beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. âWeâll do it,â she said. âWeâll make better than weâve made any year and by spring we should have us that cow.â
âYou always know how I feel, Willie,â he said. âYou always have known.â
They sat there for a long time thinking of how well they understood each other. âFinish your food,â she said finally.
After he had eaten, he helped her take the ashes out the stove and then, in the hot July evening, they walked down the pasture toward the creek and talked about the place they were going to have some day.
When late March came and the rainy season was almost there, they had accomplished almost more than was believable. For the past month, Lot had been up every morning at five, and Willy an hour earlier to get in all the work they could while the weather was clear. Next week, Lot said, the rain would probably start and if they didnât get the crop in by then, they would lose itâand all they had gained in the past months. They knew what that meantâanother year of getting along with no more than theyâd had the last. Then too, thereâd be a baby next year instead of a cow. Lot had wanted the cow anyway. âChildren donât cost all that much to feed,â heâd argued, âanâ the cow would help feed him,â but Willie had been firmâthe cow could come laterâthe child must have a good start. âMaybe,â Lot had said finally, âweâll have enough for both,â and he had gone out to look at the new-plowed ground as if he could count the harvest from the furrows.
Even with as little as theyâd had, it had been a good year. Willie had cleaned the shack, and Lot had fixed the chimney. There was a profusion of petunias by the doorstep and a colony of snapdragons under the window. It had been a peaceful year. But now they were becoming anxious over the crop. They must gather it before the rain. âWe need another week,â Lot muttered when he came in that night. âOne more week anâ we can do it. Do you feel like gatherinâ? It isnât right that you should have to,â he sighed, âbut I canât hire any help.â
âIâm all right,â she said, hiding her trembling hands behind her. âIâll gather.â
âItâs cloudy tonight,â Lot said darkly.
The next day they worked until nightfallâworked until they could work no longer and then stumbled back to the cabin and fell into bed.
Willie woke in the night conscious of a pain. It was a soft, green pain with purple lights running through it. She wondered if she were awake. Her head rolled from side to side and there were droning shapes grinding boulders in it.
Lot sat up. âAre you bad off?â he asked, trembling.
She raised herself on her elbow and then sank down again. âGet Anna up by the creek,â she gasped.
The droning became louder and the shapes grayer. The pain intermingled with them for seconds first, then interminably. It came again and again. The sound of the droning grew more distinct and toward morning she realized that it was rain. Later she asked hoarsely, âHow long has it been raining?â
âMost two days, now,â Lot answered.
âThen we lost.â Willie looked listlessly out at the dripping trees. âItâs over.â
âIt isnât over,â he said softly. âWe got a daughter.â
âYou wanted a son.â
âNo, I got what I wantedâtwo Willies instead of oneâthatâs better than a cow, even,â he grinned. âWhat can I do to deserve all I got, Willie?â He bent over and kissed her forehead.
âWhat can I?â she asked slowly. âAnd what can I do to help you more?â
âHow about your going to the grocery, Willie?â
Miss Willerton shoved Lot away from her. âW-what did you say, Lucia?â she
William Manchester, Paul Reid