A Pumpkin Harvest Hoedown

A Pumpkin Harvest Hoedown
 
By ~Kenword~

The forest green Dodge truck pulled in front of the Mosely farm. Derrick Mosely got out and pulled his duffle bag from the back. Mr. Wiese grinned at his passenger.

“It’s been good catching up with you Derrick,” Mr. Wiese said. “I wish I could help you with your duffle, but I been hurtin’ myself lately.”

“Thanks for the ride, sir,” said Derrick. “I’m sure I’ll make it ok from here.”

“I’m sure you will son. We’re all glad you got home safe, and I hope you get to feelin’ better soon.”

Derrick grinned, “I’m actually ok, Mr. Wiese.”

“Really son? Well now, that is good news. That little Sheila Ellison down the road a bit wanted me to make sure you made it to my Missus’ barn dance here tonight. She’s been achin’ to see ya’, but I told her you weren’t feelin’ a hunert per cent.”

Derrick lifted his duffle bag to his shoulder and watched Mr. Wiese push in the clutch and set the truck gears into low. “You want me to tell her yur’ comin’?” asked Mr. Wiese.

“Why don’t you do that Sir? Yes sir, you tell everyone who wants to know that I will be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Mr. Wiese gave Derrick a smart salute and popped the clutch. The truck's four wheels spun out, sending dirt and loose gravel flying. Deep piles of gold, orange and cranberry colored leaves swirled off the sides of the roadway back to the base of the trees from where they had fallen.

Smoke curled out of the chimney of the homestead shack in the middle of the Mosley farm. It was shadowy against the blackened sky that rimmed the valley and hugged the mountains. Capella Valley though was brightly lit with the late afternoon sun.

Darren Mosley, Derrick’s older brother, ran up the drive to meet him and to take his bag. They hugged each other and then walked up the rutted red dirt drive way to the cabin. They took the time to get caught up on every bit of valley gossip and recent history.

“So, I hear there’s a dance tonight?” Derrick said. “Anything special?”

“No. Nothing special at all. You remember Mrs. Wiese’s annual Harvest dance?” Darren asked. “The last couple of years she’s gotten the Twilight Twirler’s square dance club to come out and show off, but other than that it’s the same thing we went to every year when we were growing up.”

“Kid’s stuff,” Derrick said.

“Well hey, this isn’t,” Darren said opening a pot of chili on the stove and pulling out an iron skillet of corn bread. “How’s that look too you?” Darren plated up the corn bread and chili.

“I’ve actually had dreams about this,” Derrick said, admiring his brother’s cooking. The boys shaved off long strips of freshly churned butter to lather on the steaming corn bread. Derrick took huge bites studying his brother. “So Darren you wanna go with me to the dance tonight?”

Darren smirked. “Only if you promise to watch out for that Sheila. She went a little crazy when you went back to Nam for a second tour.”

“Yeah, me goin’ back to Nam did spoil some master plan she had.” Derrick looked deeply into his bowl of chili for a moment. His meditation took him momentarily to a place of loneliness in his soul. “She only wrote me once in nine months. I’d be surprised if she really wants to see me.”

Butter dripped from Darren’s index finger as his corn bread crumbled. He pointed at Derrick's chest for emphasis.

“Don’t kid yourself bro. She’s been her crazy self with some of the valley boys, but it’s you she’s been setting her sights on.”

Derrick finished his food and looked hard at his brother. His eyes were gray and his twenty-two year old face had the hard lines of a man whose mind and soul had to process the loss of friends and family, and the brutality of war and deprivation.

“I’m going to that party,” Derrick said, “But only because I promised myself slogging through rice patties and jungles all over Nam, that if I somehow got back here alive and in one piece, the first thing I was going to do was go to a party. Dance with the prettiest girls and kiss long and hard the one that pleased me the most. And you know what? A promise is a promise.”

“Well alright then bro,” Darren said, “I’ve got just the party duds for you. They come complete with some countrified boots – Yeeehaaw!”

The Mosely brothers entered the Wiese barn wearing their best black jeans and boots, white shirts with black leather vests. They quickly assessed the room, the people and the dancing.

The dancers had formed three squares. Sheila wore a pink gingham dress pushed outward from her thin waist by several red petty coats. As she spun and twirled and sashayed about the floor, she appeared to be a pastel pink Zinnia with red piping around each petal spinning about in the autumn winds. Hair of honey gold flowed over her shoulders and bounced as the steps to the dance required her to move all of her body fluidly. Derrick enjoyed watching her and decided that she indeed was the girl to kiss.

“Who’s the dork trying to keep up with Sheila?" Derrick asked Darren.

“His name is Eric something or other. He came into the valley shortly after you went back to Nam. He runs the mill.”

Eric was a tall Nordic type who appeared to be almost ten years older than Sheila. He was almost a foot taller than her as well. They would have been good partners except for Eric’s stiffness and lack of rhythm. He thumped and bumped while the exquisite Sheila floated and spun.

“Well, I think it’s game time bro. You remember how to cut in?” Darren asked. He smiled at the dark haired Miranda Knolls and winked. She smiled back with a shy nod as she twirled with pure grace around her partner.

“Let’s do it,” Derrick said.

The two brothers made their way to the dance floor and took their positions. The caller sang out the command for the dancers to “Ala mande left” which was followed by the command, “move them stars into a right left grande.” On cue Darren slipped into the ancient square dance movement to cut off Miranda’s partner leaving him standing somewhat bewildered outside of the square as Miranda and Darren formed a new couple. Derrick smoothly executed the same movement leaving Sheila’s Nordic fellow standing like a giant blonde tree by the refreshment table. It took a moment for him to be aware of what had just happened, but Sheila was immediately delighted to be swung around and around by her handsome soldier boy.

The yodeling caller urged the head couples to go up and back, and as they did, all the men in the room slammed their boots to the floor and hollered out a “yeeeehaaaw” that shook the aged timbers of the Wiese barn.

Darren and Derrick brought their youth and passion into the dance and it took on another level of joy and wonder. And then it was done. Sheila’s exuberant emotions lifted her bodily into Derrick’s arms. She kissed him deeply and with complete abandon. Derrick let the moment expand beyond the usual propriety, but he didn’t care. This had been his dream. Time and place didn’t matter. They smiled into each other’s eyes as the kiss finally ended. Derrick continued to hold Sheila drinking in her sensuous beauty.

Eric’s mood became dark as he took in the passionate exhibition. Jealousy devoured his heart and soul. He waited impatiently for a slight separation between Sheila and Derrick. Suddenly he could stand it no longer and he charged into the crowd. He hit Derrick in the gut with his right fist sending him reeling into Darren’s partner, Miranda. She seemed ready to catch him as they fell together at Darren’s feet. Sheila screamed and the women shrieked their alarm. Before anyone could respond to Eric’s attack, he performed a dramatic bow before the dazed group of onlookers. "Y'all have a nice night, ya here!" Sheila, finally recovering from the shock of seeing Eric's malicious attack, doubled up her fists and charged Eric.

"And as for you..." Eric said, stepping into Sheila's charge and swooping her off her feet. He lifted her with both hands, as though he were going to swing her wildly around the room. "No! No! No!," Sheila shouted, her fists pummeling Eric's body. He absorbed the stream of blows and carried her out the double doors of the barn into the bright moonlight.

“What is wrong with you Eric!” Sheila screamed. Her voice wavered and her lips quivered. Demanding: "Put me down! Put me down! Put. Me. Dowwwwn!. Are you crazy?”

Eric set Sheila's feet on the ground. She immediately tried to slap his face, but he caught her wrist and flipped her into a tight embrace. The crowd in the barn had pushed to the door to see the show and laughed as the drama between Eric and Sheila escalated.

“What is wrong with me?” Eric said, looking into Sheila’s blazing eyes. In the fire of her pupils was the wild look he had endured dozens of times. It conveyed her hate for him and yet seemed to be flirtatious at the same time.

Darren helped his breathless brother through the crowd of onlookers and Miranda came quickly and took Derricks hand to help him walk more steadily out of the barn. They stood in the light of the Harvest Moon and watched Sheila’s performance. The golden moonlight softened the hostile scene, but added dramatic light in which Sheila could give a five star performance.

Eric desperately tried to read the face before him. He shook her slightly, but the flames in her eyes would not slacken.
“C'mon Sheila. You know what it is! You are having my baby,” Eric said, “My baby! You don’t think I’m going to put up with another man holding you and kissing you?”

“Are you kidding me,” Sheila said, “Do I look like I'm having a baby!" The crowd in the doorway snickered and chuckled as Eric's face changed from ghostly white to crimson "Besides, I told you that over four months ago and you know what? I’ve grown tired of waiting for a proposal. When were you going to make it right you idiot?” Sheila broke away from the shaking Eric and did a spin on her toes, her arms arched above her proud head. “Does this look like a body that is about to have a baby? You are an idiot!”

“But you still said. You said…”

Darren and Miranda both felt increased weight from Derrick's body, as though he were about to pass out. They all three pushed their weight against the side of the barn, trying to comprehend what was happening in the moonlit patch of barnyard.

“You are such a fool Eric," Shelia said. "Do you believe everything every girl tells you? I wanted to get married. I thought you were the one…” Sheila drew on some imagined wounds from the past to conjure up tears and indignation. Her words found their mark and Eric shrank in size and composure as he was drawn into Sheila’s snare.

Derrick Mosely, feeling the wounds inflicted by both Sheila and Eric, sat down on the pile of dew covered pumpkins at the front door of the barn. His new friend Miranda sat next to him on the pile of pumpkins, still holding his hand.

"Well of course our marry you..." Before Eric could finish his proposal Sheila flung her arms around his next and kissed him hard. The crowd in the doorway felt compelled to applaud the closing of the scene and Darren slipped through the jubilant crowd searching for refreshment.

Darren returned to Derrick and Miranda with three beers and joined them on the pumpkin pile. They touched their bottles together with a joyful clink. “Well I guess I surely did get more than I could have possibly asked for.” Derrick winced from the pain in his side as he said the words and smiled into Miranda’s warm loving eyes. Darren held up his bottle as a toast to the scene and took a long drink.

Darren nodded at the blond giant, with his new fiancé, as they clung to each other in the light of the Harvest moon.

“You certainly did!" said Darren. "Welcome home bro.”