Harley Heads Home

August slid into September, then October. The days were still fairly warm, but the nights were getting cooler in the valley. The apples were red and heavy on the limbs of the carefully tended trees. Harley felt proud of the way they looked. Uncle Gene, of course, did not praise much, but the look of approval on his face when he went through the orchard was enough for the crew.

The picking of the apples called for many more men to be assigned to the orchard. Even though Harley had been in charge of the maintenance crew all summer, John assumed the leadership role for the harvesting. John knew everything about everything. He was a leader all the hands looked up to, including Harley. He was definitely the boss when Uncle Gene was not around. A skeleton crew was left to care for the sheep, and at least fifteen extra men were moved to the orchard. They used huge shoulder bags to drop the apples in. The men were showed how to pick fast, but not be too rough with the branches. Breakage would negatively impact next year’s harvest.

The shoulder bags got heavy quickly and had to be laboriously carried to the apple wagons to be emptied regularly. Not all the varieties of apples ripened at the same time, so John had made a map of where to pick each day. Uncle Gene wanted to maximize the harvest, so the men had to examine the dropped apples that fell naturally from the tree and add them in the wagon if they were clean enough. The bags were taken to the long white barn south of the orchard and inspected; then they were put in stackable wooden crates.

The size of the apples was impressive and the size of the stacks of apple crates was staggering. They were stacked in an area roped off beside the barn. As the crates of apples were stacked higher and higher, Harley became curious about what would happen to all of them. Uncle Gene explained that trucks from a wholesaler would take the crates and then sort and grade the apples. They would be taken as far east as Indiana to be sold. He had one of the best apple farms in Washington State and was very proud of his “extra fine” apples. Each apple that was picked and placed in a bag, and then in a crate, and then in the truck, put Harley closer to the date of his departure for California. That thought always left him both anxious and excited. Mike had written him a letter, asking him to pick up some gold for him when he went to California. Harley knew that was not going to happen, but it was good for a laugh. Although he sure would like to pick up a little gold trinket of some kind for his mother.

It took over three weeks to finish the apples. The last ones ripened and were harvested just before Halloween. The changing leaves in the valley were gorgeous, and made Harley miss the smell of burning leaves that he remembered from his mother’s backyard pile each fall. He was fairly sure she would have them burned before he got home. He was still aiming for before Christmas, but he had to get safely to Aunt Polly’s and then home. Home, and get to work on the next step of his plan.

The fellas were quiet as he packed his sparse belongings on his bunk. Uncle Gene had loaned him a small canvas one. Harley promised to bring it back or ship it back. He really wasn’t sure he would ever come this far west again, so he planned on shipping it. He didn’t want to hurt Aunt Lou’s feelings by refusing her open invitation to return soon. She had no idea of the long-term mission Harley had put in front of himself. He had a business to start and a car to buy, after he finished college. If he ever did come back, he would be driving his mother out to see her brother’s beautiful ranch in his new Lincoln. Harley had come with only a hobo’s bindle but was leaving with so much more. He had more life experience, more work experience, and more determination. He counted his friends and his blessings as he packed. He especially remembered Clarence, whose grave he had visited last night, just before dinner. He didn’t look forward to saying goodbye, but he felt like he needed to give his crew a proper speech before he left. Uncle Gene told him to be up at the house at 8:00 A.M., right after breakfast in the bunkhouse, so he knew now was the only time he would have.

He started by clearing his throat. That worked to give the fellas a ‘heads up’ that he had something to say. “I have to be up at the main house right after we eat, so I want to give you fellas the proper goodbye you deserve. You are a special bunch of men, I hope you know that. If you didn’t know it before, now you do,” he added as he peered up sheepishly at them. He really was not the speech-giving type, but here he was, giving one anyway, as they sat at the breakfast table.

“I told you before, you are the main reason I got all the way out here to this valley alive. You are a great bunch of fellas, and I thank you kindly and sincerely for your friendship. Now, before this gets all mushy, let me also tell you that you had better not start loafing around when I leave. My uncle is counting on you. You are important to this ranch,” he reminded them, lowering his voice and trying to sound serious like Uncle Gene.

“That’s right,” piped in John from across the room. “No loafing!” Then he let out a chuckle. “You sounded just like your uncle there, Harley. Good one!”

“Well, John, these guys think of this place like home, and I know you’ll keep treating them well. But right now, I’m done packing and I’m heading up to the house.” He stood up, walked to their chairs, and shook each man’s hand. “God bless all of you, and I hope we meet again someday,” Harley said over his shoulder, as he walked over to the door and stepped out of the bunkhouse.

Gene and Harley took two of the horses and a buckboard wagon. Harley did not have much to take with him, so the horses’ load was light; mostly the weight of the two men. His uncle had thrown an old tent in the back, along with some campfire supplies, because they would be sleeping under the stars one night, just like when Harley made the trip from Chelan to the ranch. For at least the first two hours, Uncle Gene was silent. Harley followed his cue, thinking the rancher had a lot on his mind about the coming winter preparations. When His uncle did speak to him, he wanted to know about Lena.

“I know I kept you busy, Harley, but you also know the ranch is a huge enterprise and I don’t get much social time myself,” he began. Continuing, Uncle Gene was obviously concerned about the effect of the dire economic conditions on his sister’s family. “Are your folks going to be able to keep the farm, all of it? Or at least 160 acres? Ya can’t earn a living on much less than that.”

“We have a good herd of animals, and our expenses are pretty small. Mother gardens and works part-time for a lawyer in Valley Junction,” Harley tried to assure him. “Things are much harder since Dad had his stroke, but our friends and neighbors help. My best friend Mike has been doing all my chores while I’ve been here.”

Uncle Gene pressed Harley a bit more, “I just want to be certain that your mother and father will keep their farm. If Lena needs any help, you need to tell her that she has to let me know. I don’t want them to have to auction the land, you understand?”

“Yessir,” Harley replied, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under his uncle’s piercing stare. “I understand and I will tell Mother that.” Harley knew that both his parents would be too proud to ever take a penny from her brother, but he had promised Gene would tell her, so he would, if it ever got that bad.  He hoped, in that same moment, that they would never be so close to losing their land that Harley would have to give his mother that message.

Having settled that concern, Uncle Gene started an inquiry into Harley’s college plans. “Let’s talk about your big plans for the money you earned here,” Gene commanded. “How far into the University of Iowa do you think that cash will get you? What are you going to study? What’s your plan for when you graduate?” He wanted some good answers, that was obvious!

“Well, Uncle Gene, I’m sure it will get me two semesters of tuition and some books. I am going to find a job over there for my room and board money. My friend Mike that I told you about, his dad knows a guy who owns a restaurant over there and he’ll hire us both as waiters. We can eat there and live in the apartment above the restaurant.”

Looking thoughtfully at Harley, his uncle replied, “Sounds like you have everything all planned, but you do know, don’t you, that most times things don’t always work out the way you plan them, right? What happens if that restaurant closes? What happens if the place burns down? What if…?”

Harley cut him off right there. “Uncle Gene! I know things can go wrong, but I’ll be ready. I’ll keep some savings, I know how to do lots of different jobs, and I am determined to make it through college! I’ll make things work out!”

“Okay, okay, you sure do sound determined, and you have showed me in the past few months that you know how to work plenty hard, but what’s your grand plan after you are done with all this schoolin’? What good is all this learning going to do you in the world?”

“Don’t laugh, and don’t tell my mother, but I want to own my own business. I think I want to sell floors, maybe furniture, too, but floors for sure.” Harley glanced up at his uncle to gauge his reaction. He thought briefly that he might tell Uncle Gene about his dream of owning a Lincoln but held that back.

“That’s interesting, but why not tell your mother? You think she expects you to come back home and clean a cattle barn with a college education?”  Gene pulled the horses to a hard stop and turned to Harley.

“You must know her better than that. She wants more for you than farm labor, Harley. She wants you to take your education and your work ethic and make something big for yourself, don’t you know that?”

“Sure, I know that, but I really love being on the farm. I love the smell of fresh hay in the barn loft, taking care of the animals, and being out in the open air all day long. I like a hard day’s work. Honest, Uncle Gene, there has never been a single day when I wished I lived in town instead of out in the sticks on a dirt road. But, I know there is more in life for me than that, and I want to be able to help out my folks, especially now that Dad has had his stroke. They are going to need my help. I want to be in a position, financially, to give them what they need… and to let them enjoy life. My folks deserve that!”

“So, what are you going to be studying? You have a major picked out?” questioned Uncle Gene.

Harley had a quick answer for that. “Business and accounting, sir. I took a business class my senior year at Roosevelt, and I got an A. It was interesting and it was easy for me, and it all made a lot of sense. My teacher said I’ve got what it takes to run a business!”

His uncle looked over at him thoughtfully. Harley could tell Gene had been listening carefully to his plans. “I tend to agree with that teacher, Harley. You showed a lot of leadership at the ranch. You wrangled that odd assortment of hobos all the way from Iowa to Washington and helped each one acclimate to ranch life. Makes me feel proud of you, and proud of your folks for raising such a fine young man as you.”

“You’re giving me way too much credit. The trip out here was a team effort, really. When I hopped on that first train out of Des Moines, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and I most definitely would not have made it on my own,” Harley admitted, shaking his head.

“Give yourself more credit, son. I’m sure you had to scramble on your way out here, but you pulled together a group of hopeless men from all over and created a crew with a common goal. I’m glad and just plain lucky you brought them all to the ranch. You basically hired three new ranch hands for me, and you did a darn good job of it.” The rancher gave Harley a hearty slap on the shoulder and said, “Let’s pull up here and set up camp for tonight. There’s a little creek just a bit south of here where we can water the horses. We can get up early and be in town before noon. The train thru Chelan comes pretty much on time, right around three o’clock.”

Late afternoon came quickly as the two men set up a simple campfire site, but then the sun seemed to move slowly on its way to settle behind the horizon. Harley was glad to unhitch the horses and walk them over a small ridge to get water.  He was somewhat leery of rattlesnakes, but his uncle assured him that as the day cooled off, the snakes would not be out sunning anymore. They would be trying to find a warm rock to wind up close to for the night and would be no threat to him or the horses. Still. Harley was watchful.

It was a perfect time to enjoy the quiet that was peacefully settling in as the horizon darkened in front of him. The horses were quite cooperative and sidled down the bank to the creek. Harley stood to the side and tried to understand the feeling of total happiness that had suddenly seized him. He smiled broadly and felt as satisfied and calm as he had in a long time. Sure, it was beautiful country and nature could bring that feeling, but this seemed different, and more. He thought a bit harder and realized it was an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. He had overcome a mountain of difficulties and now he had his tuition! Back in Iowa, he’d had this crazy idea to go west and work for his uncle, earn college money, and cast a future that could help him reach his goals and help his parents. Those horses must have sensed the feeling, also, or else they were just happy to have a filling drink of water. They both tossed their heads toward Harley and almost seemed to grin at him. He could see their teeth, anyway, and he smiled back at them.

“Let’s get back to the boss, fellas,” he said, as he pulled on their halter ropes and walked them up through the tall grass leading away from the creek.

Uncle Gene had started a small fire and unpacked some of the leftover food Aunt Lou had packed in the wagon for them. As they ate, both were silent, enjoying the peace and quiet. With the horses secured and settled in, the two men unrolled their sleeping bags close to the fire. Harley stacked on a few extra logs before climbing into his bag for the night and Gene thanked him.

“It’s been a pleasure to spend the past couple of months with you, Harley. When I moved out here from Iowa so many years ago, I knew I would miss the family, but it has been a blessing to have the ranch and my independence. I was pretty darn young when I made my choice, but it turned out alright, I guess,” Gene mused.

“Why did you move so far away, anyway?” Harley inquired, wondering if that was too bold of a question.

“Got my heart broke real bad in Iowa, son, and I just had to get far, far away from it. Simple as that,” the rancher explained. “Lucky for me I met Aunt Lou out here. I would have had a miserable life without a woman like that. I have no regrets, that’s for sure.”

“I’d want to stay in Iowa when I graduate, but I guess I haven’t really planned out where that might be. I suppose I don’t have to plan that far ahead; I need to graduate from the university first.” Harley was fishing for a little advice, and Gene knew it.

Gene was ready to share an idea he came up with while Harley was watering the horses. “Des Moines is a big enough city to have a successful business in. Grimes isn’t that far away. You could get a few acres out by your folks and have your business in town.” He paused, then explained more. “You’d have that country feeling, as well room to grow a family, if you find the right girl.”

“Golly, Uncle Gene. You have it all planned out for me! How many kids do you reckon I should have?” Harley joked.

Harley and Gene both laughed. “You’ll know what’s right when that time comes, Harley. Just find the right girl first; that’s the hard part. They rest comes naturally.” The rancher turned his back to the fire and bunched up his pillow, which was really just an extra blanket. “Let’s turn in now. We need to get going early to get you on that train.”

“Goodnight then, sir, and thank you for the advice.” Harley also bunched up his pillow, which was really just a blanket, and turned his back to the fire.