Ana of California Page 12

  The road twisted and turned as they drove farther down into the trees, which were covered in dust and were an eerie shade of grayish green. They finally made it to a wide clearing. At the bottom, surrounded by the tallest of redwoods, an ominous cabin sat lopsided in the middle.

  “Don’t let the creep factor scare you,” Abbie said. “He built this place for that very purpose.”

  They got out of the van, and Abbie watched as Ana took in the wall of antlers lining the front porch. Abbie waved to Alder, who rocked back and forth in an imposing high-back chair as he puffed on a pipe.

  “What’s doin’?” he called to them as they approached.

  “We have your pickles and veggies, came for some honey,” Abbie said. Ana trailed behind her. “Thought you might give us a peek at the hives before we’re on our way.”

  “Who’s that?” he said, scrutinizing Ana, who was hiding behind Abbie.

  “Ana, this is Alder Kinman,” Abbie said.

  “We’ve met,” Ana said. “I mean, I saw him on Main Street on my first day.”

  Alder rose from the chair. His whole body rattled from the various necklaces, dangling arrowheads, and beaded chains hanging off his overalls.

  “Where ya from, Squirrely?”

  “Los Angeles,” Ana said, assuming he was speaking to her.

  “Thought so,” he said with a huff. “Why don’t you leave the box on the side steps, and I’ll meet ya ’round back.”

  He opened and shut a noisy screen door and headed inside.

  “What’s it like inside that place?” Ana asked.

  “More antlers, heavy wood, books, tobacco, and some unusual paintings, if I can remember correctly. He hasn’t let me inside in about thirty years.”

  They walked around the side of the dark house with a box of produce and pickles and set it on the steps leading up to a chipped door with a hand-painted sign that said KEEP OUT. Ana thought it strange that the sounds of birds were much louder than what she heard regularly at the farm, even though the atmosphere was much gloomier. It was like the place existed on its own, separate from the world, a planet in and of itself tucked back into the forest. There were more than a few signs marking the area as private property. Abbie and Ana came to a tall wooden gate and pushed it open, walking out into a much larger field, which was clear and open to the sky, covered in multicolored flowers and several towers of white boxes.

  “Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Abbie said.

  “I feel like the Ewoks are going to emerge from the trees at any moment,” Ana whispered. “What are all these boxes?”

  “Those are the beehives.”

  “Get in costume, m’ ladies!” Alder called out as he lumbered across the field wearing a netted helmet. He handed one to each of them, along with a couple of pairs of gloves, taking a moment to look deep into their faces. “You afraid?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” Ana answered.

  “I can see it all over ya. Ever been around honeybees before?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Not surprised. Cities need more bees. Don’t we all. But, listen; they’re not here to harm, just here to do their job for the queen and the flowers. Even so, we don’t want to get in their way. They’re miracle creatures, like the butterfly and the ladybug. Miracles often come in small packages.”

  He led them out to one of the hives, along the way scratching his beard through the netting and humming a tune of his own making.

  “What happened to all those deer?” Ana asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “All the antlers. Do you hunt them?”

  “Never killed a deer in my life,” he said. “That’s not true. Killed one once, but that was out of mercy—poor thing been hit by a truck off the highway. Believe you me, I still think about it.”

  “Then why do you have so many antlers hanging on the front of your house?”

  “Bringing ’em back to the land, so to speak. I rescued most of those from garage sales or other folks who didn’t want them in the house anymore. Few I rescued without anyone even noticing.”

  Alder approached one of the stacked white boxes, which was faded and splintering with age, and began pumping small puffs of smoke from a silver can around it.

  “Put the nets and gloves on, you two.”

  “What are you doing?” Ana asked.

  “Giving ’em a little smoke. Calms the nerves, makes everyone a little less aggressive. Come take a look, but stay on that side of the box.”

  Ana and Abbie wandered over in their nets and gloves. Alder lifted one of the boxes to reveal rectangular pieces of wood inside with a few bees crawling in and out of them and several flying out and into the air before making their way to the wildflower field. Ana remained motionless.

  “Don’t worry. I guarantee you they don’t want to waste their lives stinging you.”

  “What do you mean?” Ana asked, terrified to move.

  “They die once they sting ya,” Alder said, which made Ana even more rigid. “Get a little closer; I want to show you the queen.”

  Ana shook her head no and refused to budge. “I’m fine over here.”

  “I promise nothing will happen to you,” Abbie said. “It’s something special to see.”

  “If they die when they sting you, then they should definitely stay away from me. Far away.”

  Alder and Abbie exchanged a look that Ana couldn’t see beneath all the netting.

  “Your choice,” Alder said, dipping into the box delicately and pulling out a rectangular frame covered in bees. “Might’ve taken you for a squirrel, but never a chicken.”

  Abbie had no fear, as she spent her days with bees in the garden, so she took a frame to inspect.

  “Extraordinary,” she said.

  They continued to ignore Ana, who stood there looking at the ground, then the trees, until she worked herself up and headed over.

  “If I get stung, I get to take a pair of antlers,” she said.

  “Fair enough,” Alder replied.

  He tilted the frame for her to see.

  “Check out this gang of wise guys right here,” Alder said. “Been around longer than the rest of us. They have much to teach about a working society. Can’t say that about most of the rest of us, but these bees know exactly what they’re doing right down to communication and community spirit. They even dance better than we do.”

  “You said they’re like gangs,” Ana said.

  “And they are! They gather socially to protect and defend what they hold most dear.”

  “Do they kill each other, though?”

  Abbie looked at Alder again, but he didn’t look back.

  “Well, you’ve got your drones and your worker bees, which work together for the protection of the queen bee and her eggs. Sometimes, when the drones are no longer needed and pose a threat to the hive, the worker bees will kill them. It sounds brutal, but it’s all to serve the betterment of the hive.”

  “Sounds exactly like a gang,” Ana said.

  “Yes, and what’s fascinating is that in the land of the bees, it’s the sisters taking the brothers out. Come over here and check out the honeycomb. Fascinating hexagons!”

  Without hesitation, Ana came around to the other side of the hive, so Abbie moved out of the way.

  “What do you mean, ‘hexagons’?”

  “See here, that’s the shape,” Alder said, delicately running a gloved finger over the wax-covered combs crawling with bees. “Eventually, we’ll take these frames out and extract the honey from ’em. And if you’ve tasted my honey, you know it’s the best in the area.”

  “And some of the best surrounding crops too,” Abbie said.

  “What else do you grow?” Ana asked.

  “Oh, just wildflowers and such and so on,” Alder said, coughing into his netting. “S
hall I send you on your way with some fresh honey?”

  • • •

  Rocks and pebbles ricocheted around the van’s wheels. Abbie maneuvered the van back up to the road, trying and failing to pick up speed. Ana stared out the window, a pair of antlers in her lap. The sky had gone dark with incoming clouds.

  “It’s weird isn’t it,” Ana said.

  “It is,” Abbie agreed, though she didn’t know to what Ana was referring.

  “How if you listen, sometimes the signs present themselves to you, like those moments when someone else randomly says what you’re thinking. Or when you’ve been thinking about someone and you see them, or you’ve had a dream about something that doesn’t pertain to anything in particular, but then you see that thing or that image in real life? I think those are signs pointing you in the right direction, or at least toward the way you’re supposed to go.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” Abbie said, knowing full well what Ana meant.

  “My abuela was into signs. On this one particular morning, a pretty good one, my birthday actually, she said she hoped we didn’t see any devil piñatas. But then we did. A whole group of diablos.”

  “Coincidence, I guess.”

  “Or something more. You know when we were leaving and Alder said he thought bees were really angels on earth?”

  “Yes . . .”

  “Maybe they have stingers for that very purpose. To give life, take it, and also to maybe keep the rest of us from realizing how good they can be. And maybe when we see one, away from any others, nowhere near a hive, maybe it’s there to remind us that goodness in disguise is always buzzing around in the periphery.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The rain was falling in a light mist over the fields and Ana felt as if she were walking through television static. It hardly ever rained in L.A., so she relished the moment. She crossed through the crops and made her way to Manny, who was helping Vic haul beets to the sorting station.

  “I finished the squash,” Ana said, approaching them.

  Manny nodded at Vic to go on without him.

  “Good,” Manny said. He was quieter than usual.

  “What’s next? Do you need me to help you?”

  “Mija, we need help with everything today,” he said. “We’ve been short on workers, as you know, and the new guys didn’t show this morning.”

  “How come?”

  Manny sighed. He seemed older somehow, Ana thought, and preoccupied. “Old farm up in Keyserville got bought by the big guns,” he said. “They’re hiring anyone they can and offering a higher wage. Some even get shared living in the empty stables, and many of them don’t have permanent homes. Guys go where the better work is, you know? But it’s something we’re dealing with more and more. Emmett’s not in the best mood.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Pull the garlic before the downpour, strip it for market.”

  Manny looked up at the sky. The dark clouds were ominous and rumbling every now and then. He looked out over the fields where Vic, Rolo, and René were gathered at the tented station near the truck. “Go ahead and start on the far row since those are ready to pull. I’ll find Emmett and see where we’re at today. If the rain gets worse, come on in.”

  The wind kicked up, whipping Ana’s hair around her face as she headed straight for the rows with sprays of green. She reached down and gave the first bulb of garlic a pull, checking that its resistance wasn’t too firm before yanking it from the earth. There was a tiny victory in pulling each one, she thought. She began tossing them one by one into a pile behind her as she’d been taught, dirt flying all over her sneakers. She made sure to go for the ones that were slightly loose, wiggling each one, holding off on any that were too difficult to pull, having nearly fallen down trying to pull with two hands more than once. When she had a sizable pile, she began stripping the outer layers, piling the unwanted bits at the end of the row. She looked up from time to time, but she didn’t see Manny or Emmett, so she gathered the bulbs in her arms to take over to the others.

  René wasn’t expecting Ana. His focus was on Vic and Rolo, who were up against the fence in a heated conversation with Joey. He nodded at her when she dumped the garlic on the table and began sorting it while also turning around from time to time to listen to what was being said. They all looked over at her standing there but said nothing. Ana’s Spanish wasn’t perfect, but she heard Rolo tell Joey that “she” didn’t understand enough to know what they were talking about and to continue. She played dumb and smiled at René, who continued working despite the fact that they were all discussing whether or not they should leave the farm. She couldn’t make out all of the details, but from what she understood, Joey’s cousin had taken a job at the farm in Keyserville, and he wanted more workers to join—there was something about his getting more money too if he brought in more people. Rolo and Vic said yes, though Vic seemed to be wavering, and René remained mum. They were talking about how to break the news to Manny before lunch.

  A crack of thunder rolled across the fields, but the rain remained light and steady. Ana wondered what she should do or say, although one part of her wanted to ask the guys if they thought the farm at Keyserville might give her work too. She had only one week left on the farm and neither Abbie nor Emmett had mentioned whether or not she’d be staying. She didn’t want to leave—the very thought of it made her chest ache—but she might not have a choice. “Fix your mistakes and move forward,” she thought, echoing Abbie, “whatever the consequences.”

  The conversation tapered off as Manny emerged from the hoop house and made his way over with a look of concern, bypassing Ana at the station and heading straight for the others, who were still in midconversation. To her surprise, he seemed to have already been made aware of the situation, though he hadn’t taken the men seriously. He pleaded for them to reconsider, but Joey and Rolo said they were leaving, especially because they’d not received their Friday paychecks. Ana had never seen Manny so distraught. He took off his hat and apologized on Emmett’s behalf, or so Ana assumed, as Emmett’s name came up every now and then. She had forgotten about getting her pay for the week, which was in fact a day late. It wasn’t like Emmett to forget. It was just as out of the ordinary as Emmett’s current absence.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Manny said to Ana, noticing her listening, but like the rest of them, he had no idea that she’d understood nearly every word that was said. And from what she could tell, the workers said they had no choice. They didn’t want to leave; they needed more than the Garbers were able to give.

  “¿Y tu, René?” Manny turned and asked. René put his head down and shook it in the affirmative. Ana realized that all of them, with the exception of Manny, right then and there had decided to go.

  Another hush came over the fields—just as much for the lightning in the distance as for Emmett walking up over the hill from the barn. There was nowhere to hide, but Ana stepped to the side of the table nearest to René. She saw Emmett notice her, his brow inverting and his pace—like her pulse—suddenly quickening.

  “Who stripped the garlic?” he asked.

  “I did,” Ana said.

  Emmett looked furious.

  “Manny, did you know she did this?” he asked.

  “I told her to do it, Boss,” Manny said. “They need them for market tomorrow.”

  “Did anyone think to ask me what I thought? I wanted this garlic kept as is and hung to dry. We need to age most of these, not strip and sell them. Is no one paying attention around here today?”

  Ana had seen Emmett frustrated and irritated, but she had never seen him bordering on out of control. He took a breath and closed his eyes.

  A bell sounded on the breeze, signaling that lunch was ready. There was another clap of thunder.

  “Who’s going to pick up lunch?” Emmett said, finally calm, but no one responded. “Whose turn
is it?”

  “I’ll head down there,” Manny said, “but I need a quick word.”

  “Now’s not the time,” Emmett said. “Vic, Rolo, head on down to the house and grab lunch. We’ll have to eat under the tent and figure out what to do if it rains this afternoon.”

  Vic and Rolo didn’t move other than to look over at Manny, who looked back at them and then to Joey and René, but no one said or did anything.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here, if it’s the rain or what,” Emmett continued. “But we need to shift our focus, everyone. I’ll grab the lunch.” Emmett walked away toward the farmhouse while the others remained quiet until he was out of hearing range.

  “Why are you all leaving?” Ana said, not being able to hold it in any longer. “I mean, I get why, and I know we need to get paid, but maybe there’s a reason the paychecks are late. Maybe we should give Emmett the benefit of the doubt. I know it sounds better over at this other farm in Keyserville or whatever, but you can’t leave the farm. In case you guys have forgotten, I’m probably being sent away too. Abbie and Emmett depend on you, and not just for work, you’re like—I don’t know—you’re more than that to them.”

  “This is about business,” Joey said. Rolo shook his head in solidarity.

  They continued talking. Manny walked over to her and put his hat on the sorting table.

  “Did you understand everything they said, mija?”

  “Most of it.”

  “I don’t want this to alarm you. You’ve done good work out here, and you made a real effort today, okay?”

  “But this is partially my fault. I just screwed everything up again with the garlic . . .”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “They can’t just leave without saying something. You need to tell Emmett.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Manny sighed, and she could tell by his expression that he didn’t.

  “Well, I’m going to fix it then.”