The next night on the farm was warmer than the last. Jed was awake while the darkness still formed a curtain at the windows. He drifted in and out of consciousness locked to the couch. The sunlight shifted shadows over the living room. The old man in the next room kept wheezing in and out, while the nearby grandfather clock kept time with a steady ticking around the circle. The strike at noon caused an unfortunate twist and turn. Jed fell onto the floor, his eyes wide open. He jumped to his feet ready for action, but the coast here was clear.

He paced around the kitchen feeling like a line of rope coiled into a very messy figure eight instead of the perfect circle he kept his lasso. He had already glanced around for his gun yesterday, but his host had hidden it away well. She seemed fine, but he was just a bit paranoid after everything, and thus liked to be prepared for anything. Now he was back on his feet, and would earn his keep for a few more days before they would leave.

Mule had told him that their delivery had been stored in the closet. Jed rooted around in the kitchen until he found a bobby pin, and picked the lock. Behind door number one he found a dark staircase that smelled of cellar rot, shelf full of pickle jars, and green limestone at the top. With no light on hand he moved along to the next door, and found the jungle juice container untouched, and full of liquid when he wiggled it. He didn’t see his firearm stored here so he moved on.

He dragged himself up the stairs putting most of his weight on the railing to avoid making noise. At the top floor hoping for better luck there was nothing but dust, disrepair, peeled wallpaper, and mothball smell. There were three rooms, but two of them were boarded up leaving one with no door. Inside there it was a few old bed frames disassembled, and other furniture piled into corners of rooms.

Jed eventually stumbled outside to the outhouse. There were no signs of anyone else close by when he emerged out of the door marked by a sliver of a moon. The nearby water pump squeaked to life as his sore muscles felt like they were coming apart at the seams. He worked up a good stream, and stuck his head underneath the cold water roaring onto the concrete platform below.

“Ahhh... Well I best find myself useful around these parts now,” he said, stretching his arms.

Jed looked around until he spotted the packed wagon parked back beside the house. A close entry to the basement was beside. As he walked closer he saw that the wagon was stacked full of harvested pumpkins, and squash ready to be stored. The cellar was an obvious destination to put them, but didn’t want to jump the gun until he had confirmation, but he might as well air the place out. He lifted aside a wedged two by four, and the double basement doors underneath. The suns poured in partially lighting a floor of cracked cement. Jed started down the creaking rotten wooden steps.

“Wham!”

He cradled the top of his head that had hit a beam on the way down.

“Ouch..”, he said.

The basement area was sectioned off by uneven walls, and floors. There were tools hung on one side, and pallets of construction materials. The foundation was old stones stacked on top of each other with the occasional brick. A crawl hole showed itself where a big rock had fallen out. Jed’s eyes slowly adjusted to the area as he pushed further inside. He came to the stairs that led to the inside of the house lined with oak barrels stacked nearby. A heavy metal door stood ominously against the back wall. It had a heavy padlock holding the bar to it.

“Well guess I'm not getting in there,” he murmured, lifting it, and inspecting the number combination.

He placed the bobby pin he had been holding in his freehand back behind his earlobe. A mouse ran for a hole in the wall as he started back to the exit. The floorboard above him began to creak as somebody walked across. Jed’s neck hairs stood on end as the basement door flew open, and more light entered.

“Clang!”

As some kind of mysterious object was thrown down to the bottom. The stairs creaked as somebody was starting down holding a lantern. Jed jumped for cover under the stairs, and behind the barrels. The yellowing tall socks lumbered down the steps slowly like a zombie. One foot hit the next step, and then it stopped to wheeze. The old man hacked something up before he continued his descent in a bathrobe. Jed froze in place somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. The farm owner took an extended break on the last step gripping the railing with a crystal scaled mutated hand.

He set the torch on a barrel that Jed laid face down behind it. The old man groaned as he bent, pausing the wheeze while keeling over like a beached whale. He started clicking something against the floor, as the lantern was gripped again. The shadows fell back over Jed as he peaked out and saw his host walking forward with the lantern in one hand, and a cane in the other. He reached the heavy metal door, and hooked the lantern to a meat hook hung from the ceiling. Jed’s heart raced as he heard the combination lock being worked on by hands full of arthritis.

The previously locked room swung open revealing what appeared to be a workshop. An old fashioned band saw set right in the opening, and behind it what looked to be the big block of an ancient vehicle with the motor suspended on a crane. The old man pushed further in the light and lit up more details of his operation. The car had a spare tire bolted to the side right in front of the door, and the engine looked to be a V-8 flathead. It had black paint, deluxe trim, custom crystal headlights, and appeared to be in perfect condition except for what appeared to be a bunch of bullet holes in the rear end. Jed raised his eyebrows, and his mouth dropped as the old man limped past an armory along the back wall with gun safes flanking both sides. There were shotguns, rifles, wood-grain sub-machine guns with drum mags, and light machine guns with 20 rounds loaded on the back wall.

As the man disappeared deeper inside his workshop Jed climbed into a crouch, and started sneaking out. His heart felt like it was going to explode as he slowly climbed outside.

“Wham!”

He held his noggin, and his mouth while letting the double cellar doors close as gently as he could. His lack of manners, and curiosity had almost spectacularly backfired. The old man was more spry than appearances.

Jed started down the path flanked by apple trees with many on the ground full of wormholes. Perhaps the information he had learned about his hosts would be worth it in case anything bad were to happen. One thing was for sure that he was by far the unarmed one, and in no position to make demands. His hosts might have been generous, but he didn’t want to be trapped working here for the rest of the season with no other choices.

Jed wandered for what felt like an hour going down different paths. The first he took went past an overgrown pasture without cows to graze, and eventually turned into a logging road through the woods. Not wanting to leaf peep at the rapidly changing foliage he turned around. He walked back and took another trail past a small cemetery plot, and thought he saw figures moving at the far edge of the field until he blinked, and they were gone. He kept along the path past a pen of hogs, and it eventually turned to a dead end at a dried river bed. Finally on the way back he noticed a side road with tracks running through a muddy section. He followed a dirt road until he saw Mule working the plow on the field below.

“Apologies for being so useless these past few days miss,” said Jed, going to tip his cowboy hat he realized it was gone.

His face turned red realizing it must have fallen in the basement when he hit his head on the way out.

“You can call me Bess mister, and it’s quite alright Mule’s told me all about your adventures while we've been working,” she said, tipping her own hat.

“Hey man,” said Mule, between bites of chewing cud after he had eaten grass too fast.

“Well seeing as all you've done for us just tell me what kinda work you need, and I’ll do my best,” said Jed.

“Hmm well you know how to work a plow?” she asked, resting against the fence.

“Yes ma’am I grew up on a similar operation,” he said, inspecting the tool that was attached to Mule.

“Okay good nough, and anyhow Mule will tell you the specifics of how I do things if you mess up. I’m going to prepare the second root cellar closer to home, and then we will unload the harvest later today,” she said.

Jed’s back cracked into motion, and his bandaged hands started to ache on the first row of potatoes. He shook off the vegetables, slowly filled the five gallon bucket, and dumped them in the wagon. By the third row it was easier having settled into a rhythm despite the handlebars having a bit of blood spilled on them. He took a brief break to cut off the sleeves, and used them as cushioning. They worked for many hours until this field was cleared.

“Ha, it feels good to do a good day's work buddy,” said Jed, breaking the silence, unhooking the plow, and patting Mule on the back.

“We ain’t done yet Jed, Now I gotta pull this harvest home,” said Mule, shaking off mud.

The wagon struggled through the mud. Mule pulled from the front, as Jed pushed from behind. He walked beside as they traversed the narrow road. Bessie waved them down by several mounds of soil covered in grass hidden behind a large metal tank with a hose. The door to the middle root cellar was open revealing benches filled with empty plastic bins.

“Aright Mule i’d say you're done for today if you want to find something else to do,” said Bessie.

Mule turned around like a dog before setting down on his stomach.

“I guess I’ll keep watch,”.

Bessie unlocked the wagon gate, and clapped her hands on seeing it full.

“Alright let's go,”.

The containers were pulled out onto the ground, and the potatoes dumped inside. When they were filled they were hauled back inside the mound, and a new set of four was brought out. They slowly worked back into the trailer until Bessie had to climb onto the bed. Jed hauled them inside as she filled the containers. The suns were setting as they moved to the second root cellar. They finished the last corner of the vegetables just as it got too dark to see inside.

Back at the house the chickens were shut in. As they walked onto the porch Mule raised his nostrils on smelling something cooking. Inside the kitchen table loaded with a simple supper.

“Ahh good papa found enough energy to cook for us,” said Bessie smiling with pride.

Jed found his lost cowboy hat resting on the top of the chair at one end of the table. He briefly hung his head in shame, while Mule plowed past to get to the grub.