Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: BACK TO BASICS (02/16/17)
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TITLE: Like Sheep | Previous Challenge Entry
By Hannah Gaudette
02/23/17 -
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The question directed to her father drew Maria's attention fretfully back to the exchange at the dinner table. From the corner of her eye, she noticed her mother's equally wearied expression as they continued washing the dishes.
Maria heard her father sigh and heard the irritated rustle of the newspaper as he set it aside. “Nothing wrong with progress.”
“But what kind of progress?” her grandfather, old Jasper Logan, insisted in a tone as cool as a spring lake. “And whose progress?”
“The progress of the people of the United States. I've got a farm to run, Dad. I won't be left behind.”
Maria exchanged glances with her mother and gripped the pump handle to let more water into the sink.
“This won't help anyone,” Jasper went on. “Lettin' their so-called progress run your life is just gonna ruin your future.”
“My future? My future's wasted unless I make a profit from this land! That tractor out there? I'm planting another four acres this year 'cause of it. The truck has enabled us to get our pumpkins and apples to town. The electricity lets me work longer hours, somethin' you always said you wished you could do when we was kids. You remember that?”
Maria blinked several times and peered out the window. She hated this division. Why couldn't her grandfather see the blessing of what they were doing?
“Son.” Jasper paused a long moment. “Son, you've gotta go back.”
“Back to what?”
“To your roots. To the old ways. This progress won't stop. I dunno where it's gonna go, but it's not gonna end. They'll make all these frivolities bigger and better, till ya can't 'ford to go against the crowd. They'll a-ruin the farmers unless ya play their game. It's like ya said, it's hard to make a livin' without these new whatsits.”
“Then why would I go back to the 'old ways?'”
Maria glanced over her shoulder to Jasper and saw in his eyes a genuine fear. “Because, Danny, we'll be losin' our roots. Your Maria's children, they won't know. Her children's children won't know. Danny, it's gotta be the people who refuse to change that keep our heritage safe.”
Her father gave a long-suffering sigh. “Growing up is a life I'd never go back to. You scraped out a living on nothing. You think I'd be content to settle for that? I aim to do a heap better than that, and my country's givin' me the tools to do it. Why should I throw it away just to preserve some fairy stories?”
Maria turned toward them. “Grandfather?”
Why should she speak about this? It was none of her business. But she'd been Jasper's favorite in some way when she and her cousins were younger, visiting Grandma and Grandpa's home.
The old man glanced up at her, a slight softening in his eyes. “Maria?”
She held her breath, wondering of the wisdom of this attempt. “Please don't be angry. Daddy only wants a better life. You used to say he knew what was best for us.”
“Maria,” her father warned. “Enough.”
“Let the girl speak, Danny.” Jasper's attention was now fully on her.
Maria cringed inwardly. Her father was right. She shouldn't do this. “Grandfather . . . our lives are better now because of all these things. I don't see anything wrong with progress. It'll make our lives easier.”
Jasper's gaze flooded with sorrow, with an underlying look of anguish, and Maria's heart gave several faint beats. Did she hurt him? She'd only wanted to mend things.
He stood and moved to the front door before glancing back at each of them. “Remember this, children – when the Good Lord gave us the land and two hands, it was because He wanted us to be livin' that way. It was hard, but it was good. We got blood that binds us to the old ways and we're losin' it now, we all are. Someday . . .” His gaze grew wistful. “Someday the people will see. And they'll return.”
Maria's mind echoed his words as he left the house, as well as the words the preacher had said at last Sunday's meeting. Like sheep we have all gone astray. A thrill of fear coursed through her. This path of progress seemed so right. How could it be wrong?
Like sheep . . .
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