As they made their way down the steep incline to the stream, Lolly and Thahn Ho kept a tight grip on the kids hands. Both Mitzi and Le had gone completely silent. It was Mitzi’s first time down here, and Munch bet it would not be the last. Sun light filtered through the oak trees. A breeze set the branches to swaying. The ground was covered with leaf litter. The sound of the water was soothing music. Memories flashed through Munch’s mind. Some time Daddy brought him down here to pretend fish or real fish, depending on if there were any fish in the stream big enough to eat. It had always been exciting when they caught a fish, even if they had to throw it back. Mama was not a vegetarian back then and neither was Munch. That was something that began after Daddy died. Blurred images of his father passed through his mind. With each year his memories became a little less precise. If not for the photos Mama had out of him, Munch wasn’t sure he would even remember what his daddy looked like.

Le began to shout, “I see a fish, I see a fish!”

Well he didn’t see it for long. That fish shot out of sight in less than two seconds flat.

Mitzi wailed, “You scared him away!”

Calmly, Lolly said, “Let’s try to be quiet and maybe we can find another one.” She looked at Le and Mitzi and asked, “Can y’all do that?”

They both nodded.

Silently they tracked along the stream. Munch was bringing up the rear, right behind Thahn Ho. She wasn’t a curvy girl, but she still had a cute figure. Maybe this walk wasn’t so bad after all.

Quietly, Lolly said, “I think I see a fish. So be very, very quiet.”

The kids went to Lolly and stood beside her. Thahn Ho hung back with Munch. How he wanted to reach out his hand and take hers. He saw sun light catch the bright scales of the fish. It was a small perch.

Le whispered, “If we can catch it can we eat it?”

Mitzi shouted, “BOO!” The fish flipped its small tail and disappeared.

Le punched Mitzi and shouted, “You did that on purpose!”

“I sure did. You ain’t gonna eat no fish on my farm.” She slugged him back.

Thahn Ho left Munch’s side and grabbed her brother’s arm before he could wallop Mitzi again.

Angrily Lolly said, “We are going back to the house.”

In unison, Le and Mitzi shouted, “No!”

Lolly glanced in Munch’s direction before she said, “Y’all have one more chance. Anybody hits, anybody yells and we are going back to the house. Do you understand?”

Both nodded.

Next Lolly said, “Munch, why don’t you give Thahn Ho a tour of the farm. I can manage these two.”

Munch looked at Thahn Ho. Her cheeks were a little flushed. Did she want a tour of the farm? Well there was only one way to find out. He asked, “Would you care to see the farm.”

She nodded. This girl was very quiet. He didn’t bother to ask what she wanted to see first, he figured he would just show her as they went. If she wanted to talk, she would talk. If she didn’t she would be silent. Either way, she would be with him. They headed back up the bank, and made their way to the barren cotton field.

After several silent minutes of walking, Thahn Ho asked, “What used to grow here?”

“Cotton mostly, some green beans, okra and corn.”

She nodded. “My ong noi, my grandfather, grew mostly corn and sweet potatoes. He plowed the land with a water buffalo.”

It was odd, the number of similarities that existed between Thahn Ho and Munch. Both were artists, both had lived on farms, both had grandfathers who were farmers, both were Catholic and both were here in this moment. He said, “My grandpa plowed with an antique tractor. Its in the barn. Would you like to see it?”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Yes.”

As they made their way across the cow pasture, they passed several pregnant cows. His mama rented out this patch of land to Mr. Thomson who lived down the road. Near the barn, Munch caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. Thahn Ho wrinkled her nose. She smelled it too. Munch told her, “Let me go check and see who’s in the barn.” It better NOT be Max.

Munch slipped through the cracked barn door. There was Max puffing away on a cigarette. Kevin saw Munch first. He wasn’t smoking, at least he wasn’t smoking now. Max was just about to take another drag when he saw Munch. His hand froze in mid air. The ash of the cigarette glowed.

In a low growl, Munch asked, “See that?” He jabbed his finger at the hay that was stacked in the hay loft.

Max nodded.

“One spark goes up there and this barn will be burned to the ground. That hay does not belong to my Mama, it belongs to Mr. Thomson. Almost every bit of feed in this barn belongs to Mr. Thomson. Take that thing out side, put it out in the bucket of water by the faucet and get your ass back home.”

For half a second, Max looked like he was about to say something, but Kevin grabbed a hold of his arm and said, “I told you this was a dumb idea. Let’s go.” Kevin nodded apologetically to Munch and left with Max in tow.

When the boys were gone, Thahn Ho entered. She came to where Munch stood and didn’t comment about the smoke or the boys who had just walked passed her. Her eyes traveled across the wide beam in the center of the barn ceiling. The way she looked around her Munch had the strangest feeling she was visiting something from her past. Suddenly, she sneezed. He grabbed a paper towel from the holder and handed it to her. He asked, “Are you allergic to hay?”

She shrugged. She went to the tractor. It did not have rubber wheels. The wheels were jagged and made of metal. Slowly she ran her fand over the strange metal wheels. Finally she spoke, “Wow this is really old.”

“Mama says it was built in the early 1930’s.”

“Can I climb up?”

“Sure.”

He watched her nimbly climb onto the tractor. There was a slight squeaking noise when she sat down on the metal seat. She took the steering wheel in her hands and asked, “Does it still work?”

“No, not any more. One of my uncles wants to sell it to an antique dealer but Mama won’t part with it.”

She nodded as if she understood. For a while she studied each of the gears and levers. She looked down at Munch and said, “I wish I had my sketch pad, I’d like to draw this.”

If she drew the tractor she would have to come over again! “Sure, your welcome to.”

A little nervously she said, “I think we best get back to Lolly.” She climbed down. Something in her mood had changed. Why? Munch followed her out the barn door. For a moment she stopped and looked at the woods that grew beyond the cow pasture. Many of the trees were leafless. The naked trees traced the sky with their barren branches. All around were nature’s noises. From a distance cars and trucks on the highway could be heard. She asked, “Which way?”

“This way.” Munch took her back to where Lolly and the kids were floating sticks down the stream. She smiled at them when they approached. Her eyes glanced in Munch’s direction trying to decider how the tour had gone. He honestly didn’t know. Had he done something wrong? Said something? He didn’t feel like he had, but something was off with Thahn Ho. She crouched down beside her little brother as he watched his stick race passed Mitzi’s.

Le shouted, “See, I won again.”

Mitzi shook her head, which sent Puccini bobbing on her sweat shirt. “Nope. You don’t see so good.”

Before the two could start arguing again, Thahn Ho glanced at her watch and said, “Me will be coming to get us soon. I think we best head back.”

In unison, Mitzi and Le said, “No.”

Firmly, Thahn Ho said, “Yes.” The tone she used was one that was respected and not questioned. Neither child argued further.

On the walk back to the trailer, Mitzi and Le ran all the way, whooping and shouting. Lolly said, “Your brother really seems to like it here.”

“Yes. I do too.” Thahn Ho looked at Munch and smiled. There was something so specific in her look that Munch was taken aback. Was she telling him, she liked him too or was he just reading into her words what he hoped to hear?

Lolly said, “You will have to come over again. This has been fun.”

Up ahead, Le shouted, “It sure has! Wish we lived on a farm.” Munch immediately thought of the farm Le’s grandparents had lost. Living on a farm was a privilege he never, until this moment realized he possessed.

Back at the trailer, Mitzi and Le were both talking at lightening speed, interrupting each other and casting looks that were either excited or aggravated. Grandma Toady listened to the whole confused account of their walk with rapt attention. Aunt Jessie came out of the kitchen and asked, “Did y’all come across Max and Kevin?”

Mitzi said, “Nope, but I smelled cigarette smoke when we was at the stream. I think Max stole some more of Uncle Trace’s cigarettes.”

How did this child know so much?

Aunt Jessie’s face flushed red. Someone was going to be in major trouble when they showed up. Max was about to be grounded for a month.

According to the living room wall clock, it was almost four. It was time for Munch to go back home but he didn’t want to. He said, “Well, I best be leaving.” To Le he said, “I will see you at Mass tomorrow.” He looked from the mud smeared little boy to his older sister. He would see her too. He watched that slow smile spread across her face again. How he loved that smile. He smiled back and said, “Bye.”

Outside he walked back to his house. The day had not gone as he imagined it would. It was the constant curse of having too much imagination. Rarely did a day live up to what his imagination could conjure. Still, he had learned more about Thahn Ho and gotten to spend a little time alone with her. When he got inside the house, his mother was prepping a vegetarian lasagna. She looked up at him and smiled. He waited for her to question him but she didn’t.

He went to his room, put on a Ray Charles Album and got out his sketchbook. That old tractor was an image he knew by heart. With his 2B pencil he sketched in it’s lines and on the seat was the figure of a girl with a dark pony tail.