The August day had just begun, and it was already hot. There wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky. I ran down the stairs and out the porch door to catch up.
“Where are you off too?” Mommy shouted.
“To help Daddy,” I shouted back.
“You kids be careful!” Mommy called her regular warning.
“OK!” I called back again. “Come on Buster, let’s go!”
To get up to the back field, Wayne stood on the back hitch of the tractor and hung on to Uncle Emmett’s leather belt. I stood beside Daddy on the other tractor, holding his shirt with one hand and resting my bum against the inside of the tractor’s wheel protector.
“Hang on tight!” Daddy shouted over the chugging of the tractor. My fingers held on tighter to Daddy’s shirt.
“What are those, Daddy?” I shouted, pointing at small, shaped mounds to the left of the tractor.
“That’s where pioneer babies are buried!”
“REALLY?” I said with amazement.
“Really!” Dad smiled.
“But they are all different shapes and sizes.”
“That’s because babies are different shapes and sizes,” Dad shouted looking the other way.
“WOW!” I couldn’t believe that there were pioneer babies buried all over the that part of the farm. I couldn’t wait to tell Wayne. Finally, I’d know something he didn’t know.
When they all arrived in the back field, Daddy let Wayne drive his tractor which was pulling a manure spreader filled with manure. It was the first time Wayne had been given this important job.
“OK, now, just drive in straight lines. Once you get going, reach behind you and turn the manure spreader on. Slow down when you get to the edge of the field and turn around nice and easy, then drive back here,” Uncle Emmett told Wayne. “If you do OK, we’ll let you drive some more. Off ya go!”
Wayne was beaming and I was in awe wishing I was old enough to drive a tractor on my own. Wayne started the tractor, took his foot off the brake and eased it down slowly onto the gas pedal. The tractor chugged forward. Then Wayne reached back and turned the handle on a long pole that was sticking out of the manure spreader and quickly put both hands back on the steering wheel. He looked over at Daddy and Uncle Emmett with a smile that told of how proud he was. Daddy and Uncle Emmett watched with knowing smiles on their faces. It was like they were waiting for something to happen.
Manure is animal poop mixed with straw and a manure spreader is a wagon that holds the manure. When its turned on, the spreader pushes the manure down to the back where a forked spinner tosses the manure out of the wagon, spreading it all over the field. Manure is fertilizer which helps the oats and alfalfa grow. The spinner tosses the manure EVERYWHERE.
Within minutes Daddy and Uncle Emmett were laughing in a proud sort of way. Wayne, determined to show that he was a big boy capable to helping on the farm, kept going, fertilizing the field AND HIMSELF. It was only until one large piece of cow poop hit him square on the back of his head, did he finally stop.
Daddy and Uncle Emmett ran out to the tractor. “Why did you stop?” Daddy said laughing.
“Dad! I just got hit with poop!”
Uncle Emmett stop laughing long enough to say, “You did good. If you want to do more, its OK with me.”
Daddy looked at Wayne and starting laughing again. Wayne’s clothes, face and hands were covered blotches of cow and pig poop. Despite that, Wayne reached down, started the tractor again and off he went to finish the job.
“Sakes alive!” said Mommy holding her nose when Wayne and I finally tumbled into the kitchen later in the day. “You take those clothes off right there! Everything down to your underwear then upstairs into the bath tub with you.”
“Wayne stinks!” I giggled. “He’s got cow poo stuck in his hair.”
“For goodness sake,” Mommy winkled her nose while she picked a piece of poop from the top of Wayne’s head.
“Did you know we have pioneer babies buried in the field?” I suddenly blurted out.
“What?” said Wayne in disbelief.
“Who told you that?” ask Mommy.
“Daddy! He said they are all different shapes and sizes and that’s why the mounds are all different shapes and sizes.”
“They are NOT!” scoffed Wayne. “Dad was pulling your leg, silly. Holy cow! You’ll believe anything!”
“He was not, was he Mommy?”
Mommy breathed a big sigh. “I’m afraid he was honey. There are NO baby pioneers buried in that field.”
(This is many memories merged together into a little story)
by Wendy V. Smith (January 2011; edited July 2, 2020)