The Experiment

"The Experiment"



All Evy knew was country living; large square fields of luscious alfalfa, their scent released by the summer warmth; pea fields from which she filled her pockets with fresh peas; swaying yellow oat fields in late August; pungent golden rods and vivid gold finches flooding her senses when she walked home from the neighbors, her bare feet picking her way slowly on the gravel road. On winter evenings, she watched the long, red barns with rows of white-framed windows that joined the stars in lighting up the snow. Evy's neighbor owned a herd of brown swiss cows, the color of bronze and chestnut and ginger with dusky legs and soft, deer-like eyes above pretty pinkish-white noses. When she visited her neighbor during chore time, the rythmic pulsing of the milk machines felt calming, soothing to her and to the gentle animals. The occasional clink of the metal bars that strained against the strong necks of the tethered cows as they lowered their heads to lick the sweet ground corn in which carmelly- scented molasses was mixed to make it even more irresistable, was strangely soft and pleasing to the girl's ears. Evy knew that her parents owned a dairy farm before she was born and she resolved that she would have loved it even though she had no idea of the tedious work involved.

Evy was tall for her age and very skinny. She wore her sandy-colored hair in a short, pixie-like style. This suited her just fine. She didn't have time for long hair to tangle and get in the way. She loved to run barefoot while climbing into trees, or swinging on long ropes, or exploring the old barn next to her house. Lying on her back on a sloping knoll behind her house, she shaded her soft green eyes, the color of dusty grass in the summer, and watched the billowing clouds. They looked as if she could sit on them, and she shivered alittle thinking about it and realizing that she would fall straight through. Evy loved nature and loved learning about the way things worked.

If Evy was poor, she didn't know it. She had lots of clothes (hand-me-downs from older sisters and cousins), and a bike to ride (a big, old, red bike with the bar in the middle so she had to stand up to reach the peddles). She always had something to eat when she wanted a snack between meals like peanut butter and celery, thin slices of raw potatoes, even thinner slices of cheese (she liked it that way), dill pickle sandwiches (two pieces of buttered bread with home-made dill pickles sliced length-wise in between) and coffee with milk in which she dipped buttered graham crackers. Evy's playhouse enveloped half of the upstairs in their large, white farmhouse. It was unfinished consisting of studded walls that sectioned off would-be rooms and Evy would pick one room for her "house", her dolls, and her tea set that she received for Christmas one year. The girl also hid up in that old, unfinished part of her house. There were many cubby holes to crawl into and when Evy was upset or angry about something, it was a good place to calm down; get away from criticizing eyes; think about why no one tried to understand her feelings.

Evy's brother, Link, was of medium stature with light brown hair neatly trimmed and combed. His face was intense, holding a longish nose and thinnish lips. He didn't have to say it; his pale blue eyes told her he was in charge. Link didn't pay much attention to her, at least not welcomed attention, but then he was about nine years older and acted more like a correctional officer towards her than an older brother who taught important things to his younger sister, like how to swing a baseball bat or how to stand up and keep one's balance wearing ice skates. One of the three oldest children, Link, along with Catherine and Robert, got to go on a cross-country trip with their mom and dad for a whole summer. What an adventure, Evy thought, as she looked at a photograph of Link by the Old Faithful geyser, and she wished she could have had such an exciting thing happen to her.

Evy being the third youngest and Link being the second oldest in a family of ten children prompted Evy to ask her mom once about wishing for such a large family and she told her that in their faith, a man and a wife did not try to prevent a pregnancy. A baby was considered a blessing. Being of German descent, their parents, Gustave and Helena, had a strong work ethic, frugal values, and stern discipline. They were emerging from the Great Depression of the 1930's, so saving money and making everything last became most important in their family household.

One day, when her mom had gone to work at her daytime job and her dad had left for his second-shift job, Evy looked into the refrigerator determined to try an experiment in her school science book. It had said to take an egg and poke a hole into one end of the egg and another hole into the opposite end; and then she would be able to blow out the insides. Hanging on the kitchen wall was a wooden gadget. It was a sort of wall-mounted pin cushion with all kinds of pins and needles, a scissors, some thread. It was nearby for handy, instant repairs. She pulled out a stick pin and gently poked into the shell of her egg. After blowing so much that her cheeks hurt, she decided to try and make the holes bigger.

Just as the egg chipped and cracked, Link walked into the kitchen and spied the egg's runny whites and yellow yolk on the counter. "What are you DOING?" he stated sharply. "Nothing," Evy said cautiously, every nerve in her body prickly with fear, adding sheepishly, "Just trying to blow out an egg." Harshly, he told Evy she had to eat the raw egg as punishment for making a mess and wasting food. Even though she was crying her eyes out, he derisively insisted that she had to swallow the egg. She was crying so hard she was unable to speak or catch her breath. Her chest heaving and her lungs clutching for air, Evy made a dash for the front door hoping to get away from her overbearing brother. He didn't follow her; she didn't know where he was; only that she would hide outside until her mom came home.

Luckily, thankfully, nothing more was said. Nothing more happened. But Evy was always leary of her brother's presence making sure to stay out of his way. After that, she never liked soft-cooked eggs either. When Evy got older, she tried to understand why Link was so strict. She guessed that it might be because he was a teenager who wanted to do things with his buddies; not babysit with his younger siblings. Maybe, Evy realized, he had been short-tempered because thoughts were whirling and racing in his mind. What was he going to do after high school? Would he be alone or would he have someone to share his life with?

Back then, neither one knew that in two short years, Link would be in the army with a young wife and infant son. And neither one knew that she would be a convenient babysitter staying at his home while he and his wife were at work. Evy only knew that older brothers (and sisters) seemed to frustrate her as well as she seemed to aggravate them. At least Evy could, if she wanted to, stay far away from the bossy tyrants by escaping to the woods for all-day-long treks or by hiding out above the old tractor shed in her secret clubhouse.