Frankie found a tall thicket of wheat to hide himself in while he threw up. His spine quivered like the Tacoma Narrows, about to collapse, as he bent over to release what had built up within himself. He took off his hat, sat down next to the newly-created puddle, and wept. He heard someone walk by, crushing crops as they made a trail. They didn 't notice him, and in that moment he felt thankful for his crops. It was the closest thing to happiness he had felt in the last few days. A fruity smell wisped past him, and made him throw up once more.
***
The cops hadn 't yet determined how her head came off. It was a clean break, which would imply human action, but there were no other signs of trauma. No scratches, no …show more content…
Go buy a boat and sail! Buy a motorcycle! Travel! Get away from your life."
Frankie raised his tone.
"This is all I have left."
The Man started to speak, but Frankie didn 't let him.
"Are you dense? This is all I have! My wife is dead. My child is dead. I put my fuckin ' heart and soul into these farms, into these acres. Every day I do what I have to do to keep the cogs running. No one talks to me anymore. I don 't exist outside of these farms. I lose the farm, I 'm as good as dead."
The Man didn 't change.
"Understand, Frankie, that times are changing. We 'd love to have you on board as a farmer, heck, imagine the publicity that would get us. But nowadays we need efficiency. We need speed. The new machines they have are twenty times faster than yours, and your farm is set up in a way where we just can 't upgrade it."
Frankie didn 't change.
"Frankie, you can still farm! Jesus, just use a different name! Call it "Papa T" or something, I don 't know!"
Frankie sighed.
"You 're getting old, Frankie. You can 't do all this farm shit much longer. Every day you get closer to death, and all this work isn 't going to help."
"Maybe that 's what I