Farmer Charlie // Short Fiction By Joanne Macias

Farmer Charlie 

~ Joanne Macias

“Our once green pastures will now be red, barren wastelands.” Well, that’s at least what Mum said behind closed doors. She didn’t ever talk like that around us, thinking it would scare us.

Mum and Dad were farmers. So were their parents, and their parents too. No doubt what would make them proud is if I followed their footsteps.

Unfortunately, we were experiencing some ‘silly weather’ that killed all our produce, including our prize-winning peach crops. Our peaches won banners every year! I thought they were the best around too! Really juicy and sweet.

That silly weather Mum was talking about – well, that was the floods. The rain was coming non-stop. It got muddy quick, then it looked like we were by the ocean. Mum and Dad cried almost as much as the sky.

The bumper crops this season - gone in the blink of an eye. All the hours and effort we put in; disappeared. Washed away with the rain. The clouds hid the sun, and it seemed that it hid Mum and Dad’s happiness too. I kept hearing ‘It’s impossible, there’s nothing we can do.’ I may only have been a kid, but I was also a farmer. I’ve helped enough to know that age and size mean nothing. Farming always was all hands-on deck. But what next?

Sitting in front of the television, I heard some amazing news. The rain would be stopping. The clouds would bugger off, and the sun would come back. Dad was already so defeated by the rain; he couldn’t get excited at the report. Guess I needed to be double excited for him too!

Sure enough, the ground started drying up. The soil didn’t seem too bad either. Not as nice as before, but it was ok. I went to my room, put on my work clothes, my boots, and my big hat. I walked back downstairs, and Mum saw me, looking confused.

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

“Fixing everything Mum, don’t worry!”

I pushed open the door and walked to the shed. I grabbed the hoe, and a bag of seeds. I loaded them into my wheelbarrow and headed back to the field. I took a big swing with the hoe, hit the dirt, and dragged it down the field. That should do, I thought. I ran back and went again, and again. Now I was ready for the seeds. I saw Mum watching me from the window. She wanted to see what I was doing, but I tried to not get distracted. I grabbed the seeds and started spreading them along the line. By the time I got to the second line, I noticed Mum wasn’t at the window anymore.

“Charlie, wait! I’m bringing reinforcements!” Mum shouted from the door.

My little sister came running out, annoyed that I started without her.

“Charlie, I want a turn! Let me put the seeds in!”

“Ok, ok. Like this.”

We looked back at the field once we were done and realised, we may have just planted enough seeds to save the season.

Joanne Macias is a multi-disciplinary creative, having featured in both online and print publications which includes Living Stories, Best of Times, The Sour Collective, Two Wolves Digest, Short Stories Unlimited, Roi Fainéant plus many more. She loves finding interesting ways to challenge reader perception through unique scenarios in everyday settings. She embarks on her first residency in Ireland in 2025 where she will complete her first poetry collection. You can follow her adventures at @joanne_macias_writer