Born of Greed

by Baroni, J. T.

  “Why don’t you try shutting your pie hole for once, ya sawed off runt?” Leroy fired right back.

  The shorter man then spit a mouthful of brown tobacco juice squarely between the tall man’s boots. “I could have put that square in your eye, ya know. The next time I just might do that, if ya don’t lay off.”

  “Alright already, you two boneheads. We got fertilizer to spread,” Thomas interrupted, because he knew these two could go at each other for hours. Dale and Leroy were truly the best of friends, but they enjoyed seeing who could get in the best jabs. Besides, their shared fun and games made the monotonous farm work pass quicker.

  As they walked to the barn, Scarecrow turned to Thomas. “Can I have that costume you wore home from the hospital?” All three men had to laugh at his remark.

  “That surgical garb won’t fit ya, ya big goon,” Dale butted in, “I’m gettin’ it.” They all laughed some more, and Thomas thought how good it was to be home.

  While loading supplies on the hay wagon, Thomas told his two friends all about the new highway, State Route Thirty-Two; how the smooth surface had painted lines; the exit ramps were lighted; and there were even billboards every few miles. He also explained how the truck boiled over, and how he had to ask the hospital’s maintenance department for a bucket of water for the radiator. He told them how scared shitless he was, thinking he was going to deliver the baby somewhere between Elderton and the state capitol.

  They were spreading fertilizer on the freshly sprouted corn when Thomas spotted Emily’s car sitting on the edge of the field; she was standing about fifteen feet into the cornrows, frantically waving her arms. He waved back, and drove the tractor over to meet her.

  “Thomas! Oh my God! Where’s Maggie? Is she all right? Did she have the baby?” she anxiously asked her brother-in-law, as he shut down the chugging tractor.

  “Maggie is just fine, Emily. Calm yourself down,” Thomas reassured her with a wave of his hand. “Yes, she had the baby, a boy. She’s still in the hospital, and will be for a week.” Emily knew which hospital; she’d accompanied her sister to Doc Wilson’s for Maggie’s appointments. Thomas never had the time. She also knew about the cesarean operation being the only way possible for that large of a baby coming out of that small of a woman.

  “Oh, thank the Lord!” Emily said, as she felt instant relief knowing Maggie was okay. “How big is the baby?”

  For the second time that day, he relayed the night’s events; Emily was amazed at the size of the newborn. They also agreed on borrowing her husband’s car, and the two of them going together when the time came to bring Maggie home. “Mike’s Chevy has more room than your truck and I would like to be there. I know she would like that,” Emily reasoned.

  They said their good byes. He went back to the fields. She had a house to clean.

  After another hard days work, Thomas parked the tractor by the barn, and went into the dark, quiet house. Turning on the light revealed Emily had cleaned the entire mess and let a note on the kitchen table, which read, “Thomas, your supper is in the refrigerator. Call me if you need anything, Emily.”

  He grabbed a bottle of beer and the ham sandwich wrapped in wax paper from the fridge, then sat down to enjoy his supper. That Emily is a good woman. Thomas respected her and appreciated all her help. To show his gratitude, he would give her a smoked ham, and a pound or two of bacon or sausage, or perhaps a venison hindquarter from the smoke house.

  Her husband was not a farmer; instead, he was the scale master at the grain yard. He and Emily were just getting by on his wages, and Mike welcomed the delicious farm fresh food. Besides, Thomas always had a skinned out hog, or a deer, hanging in the smoke house. The dozens of antlers nailed to the front of his barn bore proof to that.

  All the farmers hated the deer because of the costly damage the hungry animals would incur upon their corn, oats, and wheat crops. Most farmers kept a rifle secured on their tractors; and every chance they had, they would drop one of those dirty bastards. Usually, the farmer dragged the carcass off to a corner of the field for carnivorous animals to dispose of, unless the farmer needed meat. Then it went to the barn for butchering, and if the deer was a buck, the farmer mounted the antlers on the barn. Almost on a daily occurrence, farmers heard gunshots in the distance from a neighboring farm, and wondered if the animal went down.

  Sometimes there would be two, three, four or more shots. “He missed! He’s running!” They could imagine a deer gracefully running and leaping in bounds through the corn or wheat fields; while a farmer, sitting on his tractor, unloaded his high-powered rifle at the speed beef, but missed.

  Chapter Four

  “I was educated by the School of Hard Knocks.”

  Van Morrison

  Thomas drove his brother-in-law’s 39 Chevrolet sedan on the new highway heading home from the hospital, with Maggie and Emily in the back seat. They admired the infant. “He’s so adorable,” Emily bubbled. “Look at those beautiful little fingers.” They were tiny; however, they were also twice the size of an average sized infant’s fingers. The baby, who was in Emily’s lap, was indeed, very large all over.

  “I just cannot imagine you having this big of a baby, Maggie. No wonder you were in such agony. It’s only by the grace of God, that you and the baby both survived that terrible night.”

  Then she asked if the doctors had any idea why the baby was so large, her being so small and all. Maggie answered, “Willpower. No, I think the word he used was…‘mind power.’ Doctor Chang told me that after I had so many miscarriages but still wanted a baby so badly, my mind took control of my body to make sure this baby would survive.”

  “Well, I guess that does make some kind of sense. He is a doctor, after all. Oh, guess what? I picked up a crib at Harrison’s auction gallery. And Mike repainted it.” Emily proudly told her sister.

  “You didn’t have to go and do all that. I’ll pay you for the crib,” Maggie insisted.

  “Nonsense, I only paid fifty-cents. Just consider it my gift to your baby,” she insisted back, and then asked, “Do you have any names picked out yet?”

  Thomas, who was paying only half attention to their chit chat because his mind was wondering how long it would be until this new Route Thirty-Two would be extended and cut through his farm, raised his eyebrows and cocked his head in disbelief at his wife’s reply, which was, “Jack…I am going to name my son…Jack.”

  Thomas glanced over his right shoulder at his wife, and in a very pissed off tone, said, “What? I thought we’d agreed on Thomas, Junior?” Then he turned back around and focused his eyes on the road. He shook his head from side to side. “Where in the Hell did you come up with a name like…Jack?” He fumbled to pull a cigarette from his tin can.

  “I’m going to name my baby after Doctor Chang. That man saved both our lives, Thomas. If it wouldn’t have been for him, neither one of us would be here right now. Would we? And you’d have two burials to pay for,” she declared in a for your information tone of voice.

  Maggie knew her husband was not going to approve of the name. Especially not if his son was to be named after an oriental man, regardless the fact Dr. Chang was a professional surgeon and he most certainly did save both their lives that night. She was ready for any of his rebuttals. Furthermore, seeing how she had to take charge that awful night, combined with her getting away with calling him a moron, she felt a bit of empowerment. Neither he, nor anybody else, was going to change her mind, or her baby’s name.

  The rest of the ride home was quiet; even Jack didn’t fuss. He was quite the contented baby.

  Once home, Thomas quickly changed into his bibs. “Tell Mike I appreciate us using his Chevy,” he curtly thanked his sister-in-law, and headed for the barn, still shaking his head in utter disgust.

  Maggie fed the baby while Emily set up the crib.

  When she was done, Emily came into the kitchen and sat down with her sister. “I’m so sorry I asked about the baby’s name.”

  “No need f
or you to apologize; that was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m glad the whole thing is all over and done with; maybe I should be thanking you instead,” she reassured her sister. “Thomas has been such a stick in the mud lately. Just as I told you a good while back, ever since that fire, he’s been so bitter and mean. He still, to this day, hasn’t said one word to Ray or Thad. I think he blames the fire on those two. He really wanted to move into the bigger house. Don’t let Thomas know, but I was talking to Thad’s wife one day in the Five and Dime, way back before I even knew I was pregnant; and she said Thad’s the same as Thomas. ‘Moody’ is how she explained him. I suppose things will never be the same.”

  “Well, at least you have something to take your mind off of such nonsense; and he’s absolutely beautiful. Here, let me burp him.” She took Jack and placed him on her shoulder. “My stars! He is quite the bundle.”

  Having two girls of her own, Emily was no stranger to handling an infant. She patted his back; he let out a very loud burp. “Oh my goodness. I bet you feel a lot better now, don’t you, Big Boy? I’m going to get to watch you grow up, and we’re going to be good buddies.” Jack’s aunt told him, and then she rubbed noses. The chubby baby smiled.

  Aunt Emily did get to watch her nephew grow up. He grew up fast—and big!

  * * * *

  “Just think, Jack. Next week you’ll be going to first grade,” Maggie told her six-year old boy while they fed the chickens. Taking care of the small brood was one of her many chores. She sold any extra eggs, along with her famous apple butter, for her spending money, seeing as Thomas would not give her any cash.

  Jack, already as tall as his mother, tossed a handful of feed to the ground, then asked, “Why do I have to go? I can say my ABC’s and count to a hundred.”

  “You’ll learn a lot more than that. You’ll make lots of friends, and use finger paints. School is a lot of fun.” She tried convincing her boy with soothing, encouraging, words.

  He asked questions right up until the day the bus picked him up, and took him to Elderton Elementary. “Can I take Duke in for show and tell?” or “What will my teacher look like?”

  A tear ran down his mother’s cheek, as Jack waved goodbye through the school bus window.

  * * * *

  “Good Morning class, I am Mrs. Foster,” said his petite gray haired teacher, who wore her glasses at the end of her nose. Due to her excessive amount of wrinkles, the kids called her “Prune Lady,” but never to her face. It seemed as though she had been a teacher at that school forever.

  “You all may hang your wraps in the closet, and put your lunches under your desks. Recess will be in one hour. Let’s use that time to get to know each other.” She started with the little girl sitting closest to her. “Would you like to tell the class what your name is?”

  “Jessica,” the girl answered, very quietly. Then she put her head down, not looking at anybody. She was destined to be the wallflower at school dances. Mrs. Foster said, “That’s a very pretty name, Jessica.” Then she continued to ask the rest of the children their names; and she would always compliment them on their name, clothing or hair. She was a sweet old woman who really did like children, and she tried very hard to make her nervous little students feel at ease.

  She asked the question to another little girl, who had straight blond hair and big blue eyes. “Rebecca Lynn Felton,” the pretty, little girl answered, fidgeting, but continued, “I’m six years old and I have a puppy!”

  “A puppy!” Mrs. Foster responded. “How nice! What’s your puppy’s name?”

  “His name is Jasper. And he’s this big.” She held her hands about a foot apart.

  Jack eyed Rebecca up and down. He didn’t have the opportunity to be around many other children. Except for the ones he saw when his mother took him to the Five and Dime or Woolworths, the only other children he actually knew were his Aunt Emily’s two girls; however, they were five and seven years older than he was. This girl was his age, and a lot prettier than his aunt’s girls. He was smitten.

  “Jasper, that’s a nice name, Rebecca.” Then the teacher looked at Jack. “Who do we have here?”

  “My name is Jack Trotter, and I have a puppy, too,” Jack proudly announced, hoping Rebecca appreciated the fact they had something in common. He glanced at Rebecca, and she smiled back at him. Butterflies swam in his stomach. He might like school after all.

  “And what’s your puppy’s name, Jack?” Mrs. Foster asked.

  “His name is Duke, and he likes to chase rabbits in the corn fields,” Jack replied, as the bell rang.

  “Recess time, Children. Please don’t run down the stairs.” She really did care, and wanted her children to be safe and sound. Grandmothers are naturally like that.

  Grades one through six flooded out the doors and onto the playground. Some children played tag while others played kick the can. Jack tried talking to Rebecca. Maybe his size frightened her, or maybe she just didn’t like him; but she ran every time he approached her. Perhaps she was merely playing hard to get, he wondered.

  Jack saw two boys standing together; they had on identical clothing, and resembled each other almost to the point of being indistinguishable from one another. Almost. One boy was slightly taller and thinner than the other. Even his face was a bit thinner; other than those two dissimilarities, they were carbon copies of each other. They were Raymond Trotter’s twin boys, Ray Junior; better known as R J and Daniel. These were the cousins Jack knew of, but never met. His mother’s words echoed from this morning when she cautioned him just as the bus had pulled up, “Try to stay away from them. They might make trouble.”

  The two boys were talking, then Daniel pointed to Jack. R J nodded his head. He understood fully. The details of Daniel’s brilliant plan, that is. The taller twin walked toward Jack, took a few steps past him, and then turned around to talk to him. Jack faced the boy; his back was now to R J, who was now sneaking up behind Jack.

  “You’re Jack Trotter, aren’t you?” Daniel asked sarcastically, sneering. Although he was two years older, he was the same height as Jack, but weighed a lot less. Jack had yet to lose his baby fat. Daniel’s arms were noticeably thinner than his cousin’s arms, but Daniel and R J both had more strength. Their father put them to work on his farm. They were used to manual labor such as loading hay bales, or bags of seed and fertilizer, whereas Maggie kept Jack closer to herself and the house chores.

  Jack felt a twinge of apprehension, he knew instantly who these boys were; his mother’s warning instantly became a reality. He nervously answered, “Yeah…I’m Jack.”

  “Everybody knows you’re the world’s biggest baby. They even said so in the newspapers,” Daniel taunted, as his twin positioned himself on hands and knees directly behind Jack, oblivious to that fact.

  “I am not. Leave me alone,” Jack told his tormentor.

  “I bet you eat a lot, don’t you? You big baby.” Then Daniel shoved Jack. He tumbled backwards over R J, flat on his back. His head bounced off the ground. Daniel then jumped onto Jack’s chest and pinned both of his arms to the ground.

  “Time to feed the big baby, R J,” he told his brother. R J pulled a clump of grass from the ground and tried forcing it into Jack’s mouth.

  The noise and commotion quickly caught the attention of the other children. They chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” while forming a circle around the melee.

  Jack tossed his head from side to side; he clamped his mouth shut as tight as possible. Nevertheless, R J managed to get some of the grass into the younger boy’s mouth; the dirt hanging on the roots smeared over Jack’s face and went into his eyes. Jack squirmed as hard as he could to get out from under his older cousin, but he lacked the strength. He was forced to lie pinned to the ground, while the twins had their fun with him. All the children on the playground watched, even Rebecca.

  “R J, go and ask Prune Lady if she wants to burp the world’s biggest baby,” Daniel jokingly told his twin.

  Mr. Madigan, the middle a
ged but very healthy principal, gym teacher, and high school football coach all rolled into one, heard the commotion and ran outside. He darted across the playground, pushed his way through the circle of on looking children, grabbed each twin by an arm and jerked them up and off of Jack in one sudden upward pull. “You two! I should have known. To my office. It’s in the same place as last year.” He then gave them both a forceful shove to help them on their way.

  Madigan turned to face Jack, who was on his feet already, spitting out dirt and grass, and wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Son, are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, and spat a long blade of grass from his mouth.

  Mr. Madigan told the others to go back doing what they were doing, and then he focused on Jack. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack nodded yes. The principal put his arm around the boy, and the two started to walk back to his office.

  “When did your family move into our school district?” Mr. Madigan asked, because he did not recall seeing Jack before, and he knew all of his students. Surely, he reasoned, this boy was in fourth or fifth grade.

  “We never moved. I always lived here.”

  The principal raised his eyebrows. “What grade are you in?”

  “First grade, Mrs. Foster is my teacher.” Mr. Madigan was stunned to hear this big of a boy was only a first grader. Hope I can get him to play football in a couple of years.

  The bell rang as the two entered the school. “What is your name, son?”

  “Jack Trotter, sir.” He felt a bit better now and remembered the manners his mother preached.

  “Trotter? Are you related to those two?” A puzzled Mr. Madigan asked. He stopped outside his office door and saw the twins waiting inside; sitting like two perfect angels.

  “Yes, sir, I think they’re my cousins.”

  “Let’s go in, Jack. I’m going to have a talk with your cousins.” He ushered Jack in and told him to take a seat. The principal had four chairs lined in front of his desk, three of which were occupied by the most trouble prone students, and on the very first day of school. “This is going to be a long year,” the principal thought to himself as he entered the room.