Uncle Jack was up before dawn. Anna could hear him shuffle in the kitchen and the rich smell of coffee worked its way up the stairs. She rolled out of bed and made her way to her window. A thin band of clouds lined the horizon, outlined in a sliver of light, and the rest of the sky was a deep purple, streaked with brushstrokes of pink and red. Dark silhouettes moved across the barnyard busily working in the shadows, the farm staff in pre-dawn light. The final day before the fair.
She headed downstairs and was surprised to find a cup of coffee waiting for her on the table. Next to the steaming cup was a single sheet of yellow notepad paper and a list of tasks for that night’s kickoff dinner that ran the length of the page.
“All this for me?” Anna asked.
“That was the hope. Do you think you might be able to get some of your friends to help?” Uncle Jack asked. “Guests are coming in by evening time and we’re shorthanded.”
“Where are you going to be?” Anna stifled a yawn.
“Back and forth to the fairgrounds most of the day. Mara will be with me. But we should be finished by the time the guests arrive. Fingers crossed. Thanks for holding down the fort, Anna.”
And with that, Uncle Jack was out the door with Herbie following behind. Anna sat down and placed her face over the cup of coffee, taking in a deep breath and letting the steam wake her up. In addition to food prep, something she felt particularly unsuited to do, she saw a request to greet guests as they arrived throughout the afternoon. There was a map for the tables and a seating chart for guests. Picnic tables would need to be set up throughout the front yard for the one hundred plus guests that would be attending, from farm staff to family and friends, to delegates from six different countries. She did a double take at the size of the list.
“How big is this thing?” Anna said out loud.
By 8:00 that morning, Dr. Gloria’s extended family had arrived bearing pots and pans of pre-prepped foods and crates of fresh vegetables. By 8:10, the kitchen had become a smooth-running factory. Anna learned how to properly cut onions and garlic from Del’s father, Hugo, a local electrician and family cook. As she worked with him, she caught glimpses of Del in his expression, especially in his eyes and a smile that brightened the room.
As the morning progressed, more people shuttled in food until the staging area in the kitchen had extended out into the dining and sitting rooms. There were wild berry pies from Faye. A pot of Köttbullar from Liam. A large basket of Kaimati from Kevin. And red bean buns from Li Wei. As Anna moved between the rooms, different smells would waft by, shifting from sweet and light like wildflowers, to savory. Some sharp, some rich. Hints of spices and chocolate and roasting beef. By late morning, Anna’s stomach was grumbling, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this hungry.
By early afternoon, Anna was grateful to escape the constant temptation of the kitchen and headed outside to set up the yard. Fiona and Lula arrived just in time to help arrange chairs and air out table clothes and place name card holders for visitors that would be arriving in the coming hours.
The three friends looked for their own name cards and saw that they were seated together with other teens at the far edge of the lawn. She scanned for familiar names and noticed that Del’s name card was on the exact opposite end of the table from her. So did Fiona, who picked up Del’s card and swapped it out for the seat right next to Anna.
“I saw what you did there?” Lula laughed.
Fiona shrugged innocently and Anna said nothing but smiled.
“Geez. Some of these names are unpronounceable. I have a N..d..h..l..o..v..u from Malawi sitting next to me?” Fiona spelled out the letters on the name card. “I don’t even know where Malawi is?”
“It’s right next to Tanzania,” Anna said as she nudged her chair closer to Del’s.
“Which is . . . ?” Fiona asked.
“Just north of Malawi,” Anna laughed.
The sun beat down sharp and bright, and the three friends took frequent breaks beneath the shade of the Bur oak and drink lemonade from tin cans that Mrs. Gloria brought out.
By early evening, most of the farm staff had returned from the fairgrounds and were cleaning up for the night’s event. There was a brief pause as a quiet spread out across the farm. The kitchen staff was now down to a skeleton crew, the barnyards were empty, and the three friends sat lazily around the big kids’ table arguing about the proper etiquette for greeting guests from different countries.
Anna was the first to notice the cloud of dust coming down the lane. Their first visitor. She straightened her shirt and tucked her hair behind her ear, only to be surprised to see Tyler’s truck coming over the hill. The floodlight mount still sat crooked on the roof of his truck, its lights pointing in different directions like a chameleon’s eyes, and the sides of the truck were streaked with dirt from the soybean fields two nights before.
Tyler pulled the truck to a stop and smiled as he gave a half salute to the three friends. Scout jumped out of the passenger side and didn’t look back. He was wearing a shirt buttoned up to the neck and his hair was parted sharply to the side.
“I’ll pick you up by 10:30,” Tyler called out the window. “Have fun.”
Scout raised his hand without looking back as his brother pulled away and headed back down the road.
“Have fun? Did he really just say . . . have fun?” Fiona said.
“Crazy, right? He’s been like this ever since he got up yesterday. He even asked if I wanted to play catch,” Scout shook his head.
“With a knife?” Lula asked.
“Yeah, no. A football. Go figure,” Scout said. “I think he’s planning on killing me in my sleep.”
Anna stared at the truck disappearing down the dirt lane and wondered what had happened in those few minutes that Mara and Tyler were alone. Had she altered his brain? Made him docile? Replaced him with a bot? She made a mental note to ask later.
The sun began to cast long shadows across the lawn as the first guests arrived. Lights had been strung above the tables and around the perimeter, like Christmas, and added to the warm glow of the evening. Music drifted from the PA system that sat atop the front porch that now served as center stage.
The four friends took turns guiding arriving guests to their tables. Many of the faces they recognized from the farm or around town, but others were new. Some hesitant, some expectant. Some were dressed in jeans and clean t-shirts. Some braved wearing a suit on a hot summer day. And some wore clothes, with bright colors and unfamiliar patterns, from their own countries.
Something in the color of the sky, the sounds of the yard, and the collection of unfamiliar faces reminded Anna of her very first day on the farm those many months before. She smiled. It felt like a lifetime had passed, like she had always known Mara, and how to fly, and that there were holes in space-time that allowed you to travel to other worlds.
Dr. Gloria arrived wearing jeans and dress boots and a brand-new cowboy hat he wore tilted back on his head. He began making the rounds, shaking hands and embracing old friends, and dragging some guests from table to table to make introductions. Wherever he went, he brought a kind of energy that freed people from their seats and increased the pitch of their conversations until they competed with the din of cicadas and crickets on the periphery. By the time Uncle Jack had arrived the yard was alive with the murmur of conversations and movement.
As Anna headed back to her own table after seating the last of the guests, she caught sight of Del for the first time. He smiled when he saw her and maintained eye contact until she sat down next to him. Her leg brushed against his. She had set her chair too close. But neither seemed to mind. Neither one moved.
Fiona and Lula were in deep conversation with a young woman from Malawi, and Scout was entertaining the far end of the table. Somehow, against odds, his quirky sense of humor and exaggerated intonation translated well across language and culture.
“It’s good to see you, Anna,” Del said. “Are you still running?”
“No, I decided to try flying instead,” Anna said.
Del looked confused for a moment, and a little embarrassed, then Anna could see a perceptible light go off and a broad smile brightened his face.
“That’s funny,” Del said.
Before he could go on, the static squawk of feedback from the PA system cut through the evening air. People turned their heads and looked for the source of the sound. Conversations dropped mid-sentence.
Thump . . . thump . . . thump.
“Can you all hear me?” Uncle Jack asked as he thumped the microphone.
He stood on the front porch. He wore a clean white dress shirt, fresh from its packaging. Wrinkles from the fold cut straight lines down the front and back. He held a microphone with a tightly clenched fist as if he were unsure whether to speak into it or use it to pound in loose nails on the porch steps.
“Man, there are a lot of folks out there,” Uncle Jack said. He paused as he looked from table to table. “I see a bunch of old friends here tonight, and some new ones too. I see a lot of smart people I can’t wait to learn from this week, and some who are definitely better dressed.”
“That doesn’t take much, Jack!” Dr. Gloria shouted from the front table. His voice carried across the lawn. There were ripples of laughter from the crowd and some verbal affirmations, almost like a church sermon. Uncle Jack shook his head and grinned.
“One thing we all share—we’re optimists. Am I right? Because we have to be. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have chosen farming as a profession. For many of us, if we’re not fighting a changing climate, we’re fighting big Ag, or policies that promote bad decisions for the land and ourselves. It doesn’t have to be this way. And I genuinely believe this group here, along with thousands of other small sustainable groups just like ours can help turn agriculture around before it’s too late. To help transform our trade and our relationship with the soil, and in the process make the world a healthier and more just place. I promised to keep this short for your sake and mine. But, before I go, I want to thank everyone who made it here tonight, especially for you folks who travelled great distances. Take advantage of this week we have together. Share what you know and be ready to learn. At the end of the day, it’s the connections and friendships we make here that’ll make the difference.” Uncle Jack placed the microphone back on top of the PA system and signaled for everyone to follow. “Now, let’s eat before we all pass out.”
Lines formed near the food tables and snaked out into the yard, as smells from the newly opened serving trays drifted on a slight evening breeze. Scout raced to the front of the line, with Fiona and Lula not far behind, leaving Anna and Del alone at their table.
The two sat close together, their knees still touching, but they looked in separate directions at the crowd of people in the lawn. An awkward silence began to form between them, and Anna knew if something wasn’t said soon, that silence would grow into a wall that neither one could scale by the end of the evening. She turned to face Del.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” Anna said.
“You mean all these people? Yeah, me neither. Uncle Ricardo just asked if I wanted to come to some dinner,” Del said as he turned. “And, he said you’d be here.”
Anna tried not to read too much into that last part, but she couldn’t help it as a broad smile brightened her face.
“If you asked me earlier if meeting kids from Africa and Asia was on my bingo card tonight, I wouldn’t have believed you,” Anna said.
“We’re playing bingo?”
“No. I . . . uh. Sorry, it’s just an expression,” Anna said, then tried to change the direction of the conversation. “Are you going to the fair?”
“Oh yeah. The midway opens up tomorrow night,” Del said. “That’s usually when I go.”
“Midway?”
“Yeah, midway. You know. That’s where the carnival is. Arcades and games and stuff. There’s also a concert stage, but nobody good ever performs here. The rides are pretty gnarly, though,” Del said.
“Gnarly, like in a good way or bad?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know. Kinda both,” Del shrugged. “Are you going?”
“I guess so. I know my uncle wants me to be there for some of the presentations,” Anna said.
“The fair stuff should be done by then, so you’re good,” Del said, then paused. “Do you want to meet at the midway tomorrow night? Maybe we can walk around together. I’ll steer you clear from the rides that get you sick.”
Anna felt a rush through her body, a combination of euphoria and nausea, like a freefall when flying. She breathed in deep, until the feeling ebbed away just enough.
“That sounds great,” Anna said. She felt herself holding a look too long and turned away from Del and out to the yard. “You think we should go get something to eat?”
Del nodded, and the two stood up and headed toward the back of the food line. On the way, they passed their friends who were now returning to the table. Fiona winked knowingly as she passed. Lula smiled from ear to ear, her eyebrows working like handles. Scout was expressionless, his mouth open and his eyes huge behind his glasses, as he stared at the two walking by.
As the sun set, the lights strung around the perimeter took on a greater role, their glow lighting the grounds in a warm haze. Conversations became more animated with the cooler air, and there was a steady migration of people from table to table as the evening wore on. Groups shifted in size from large to more intimate. The younger kids gathered around the dessert table, and carafes of coffee needed to be replenished on a frequent basis, ensuring the night would go on for some time.
“Did you notice that little dynamic over there?” Uncle Jack leaned over to Mara and pointed to Anna and Del on the far side of the lawn.
“How could I miss it,” Mara said. “They’re quite awkward.”
“Aren’t we all,” Jack laughed. He then pointed to the front porch where Scout sat alone, eating a second serving of rhubarb pie. “But I bet you missed that over there. The poor guy keeps looking over at Anna every ten seconds. You can set your watch to it.”
“That’s Scout, isn’t it? I feel for him. I feel for all of them. How do they navigate this age with all this uncertainty? It seems inhumane,” Mara said. She watched Anna from a distance and marveled at how much she had changed. “And the hormones don’t help.”
“No, they don’t,” Uncle Jack shook his head.
Mara pulled her chair away from the table and turned to face Jack.
“Jack, I know the fair is starting tomorrow, but I have something I need to do,” she said.
“Is everything ok?”
“Everything is fine, but I was wondering if I could steal Anna away for a couple of hours in the afternoon,” Mara said.
“Sure. The schedule doesn’t really pick up until Saturday, anyway,” Jack said. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a surprise. Something I promised Anna a while ago, and I think it’s time to make good on that promise,” Mara said.