CHAPTER 1
Paris Jenks sighed and scratched her ear lobe while waking slowly to the chug-chug of an agricultural tractor and the post-dawn excitement of Meg and Dawn. They were orchard dogs, fed miserly and given shelter in return for helping to eradicate rabbits.
The curly blonde schoolteacher scratched a breast and knew with a sigh what that had been about: it was five weeks since she'd woken with a man beside her. That's akin to going three evening meals without potatoes.
Prospects for the 29-year-old were not good for getting fucked. It was end-of-season and the seasonal fruit pickers had gone. Her life at present was confined to walking to school and walking back home late afternoon to take over from her exhausted mom to sterilize more glass jars, fill them with raspberry pulp mixed with pumpkin to extend bulk and a small amount of quince to give it a different hint of taste that customers agreed made the jam live up to it's name of 'Ma Jenks' Unique Raspberry Jam'. It was one of the products the family had offered for sale for four generations at the roadside stall that attracted locals and people from the city all-year long.
Paris had Sundays off from chores from lunchtime and her mom frequently urged her to go off and 'be with a man', but working 15-hour days six days a week and 6-hour Sundays usually convinced her to go to bed early, alone. The school principal was married and although some of the senior boys at the 'all-grades' school were obviously interested Paris knew if she took any of them on her career would be over and the community would ostracize her and she'd have to leave the district to avoid her family suffering from her misdeeds. Older brother Tony was a good backstop to fill her needs but he was now on an overseas working holiday with his girlfriend. When the pruners arrived in early winter and the pickers were in the district from late summer she walked a little bandy-legged with a big smile on her face.
Then suddenly the daily grind for Paris became more upbeat. It began that very day when her mother screamed in a panic, "Meg's home!"
Fuck thought Paris and yelled, "I'm coming" She tore off her old work dress, pulled on shorts and buttoned her shirt as she went running off. Meg coming home by herself meant only one thing: her father was in trouble.
Maggie her mom was sitting grimly in the passenger seat of the Land Rover. She'd never learnt to drive, never wanted to, except in moments like the present, with a crisis threatening. Maggie had grown up with horses and only quit ridding when taking a nasty fall three years ago during the local hunt, ending up with concussion and a broken hip and agreeing with everyone reluctantly never to ride again.
Paris tried to send Meg off to find Reg but the dumb dog jumped back on the vehicle's cargo tray.
"The McCain's boundary line," wheezed her mom, indicating some emotion was there.
Paris took another look at Meg, noticing mud on her legs. "Meg's come through the creek."
"Get me to the creek then," her mom shouted.
The Old Girl as they called the 54-year-old faithful 'workhorse' was driven at 40 mph, the aged vehicle's maximum speed and above safe speed through the orchard to the far end of the property where it dipped into undeveloped land.
"There's the tractor -- it's upright," Maggie said with relief, as an overturned tractor would have suggested the driver might be pinned underneath it.
"There's dad, forty yards to the left of it."
"You know I can's see without my glasses."
"Then why come without them?"
"Paris!"
Rarely had Paris seen her mom on edge like this, so she backed off.
"Is he standing, sitting or prone?"
"Prone."
"I see him. He looks dead."
"Mom, only old age will end the life of that tough bastard. Calm down."
"I will not calm down."
"Well, get ready for a slap."
They drove on in silence, her mom standing as the canvas top was only put on it winter, still a few weeks away. She held on to the solid windscreen assembly and finally said mournfully, "I see clearly now -- his lower body is under that old stunted tree he's felled. He's not moving."
Paris, fighting her own panic, snorted, "It's hard to move when you're unconscious with a broken leg.
With Reg Jenks painfully hospitalized with shattered hip and a fractured femur high up on the other leg, neighbors organized a roster to work Reg's property. One guy even cut up the tree that had sprung back when about to fall to catch Reg and pin him to the ground, smashing the chainsaw as well. Reg would later boast it was the best firewood they'd ever had.
Maggie advertised for a temporary orchard manager but the only replies received were from inexperienced misfits. She called Tony who was in England with Rose. He was sorry to hear about his father's inquiries but said the tough old coot would bounce back. He also said he and Rose had commenced a degree course to qualify as advanced travel consultants and he had no intention of taking on the family business. "Get Paris to quit teaching disinterested kids and get into a real job."
"What real job?"
"Mom, running the fucking orchard. Has dad's accident made you thick?"
Maggie cut the call rather than rant at her son. All she said to Paris was Tony was not coming home and carried the gin bottle out to the summerhouse. Paris joined her and said she would resign from her teaching job.
"Don't do it Paris. It's you career, a way out of drudgery once you gain sufficient seniority to apply for an upgrade position a long way from here. I had my chance but let it go. Please Paris, keep teaching. "
Paris walked back to the house and called the school principal. He agreed she could leave immediately as he had two trained teachers living locally who'd been pestering him for employment.
Next morning Maggie Jenks stirred and passed wind, feeling on the bed beside her and only then remembered husband Reg was in hospital. She froze, hearing the unbelievable -- the chug-chug of the agricultural tractor warming up and the post-dawn excitement of Meg and Dawn.
"Paris, you stupid young woman," she muttered proudly. "Like your mother and grandmother and great-grandmother you're turned aside an easier life because of your love of the land."
Paris arrived home at 4:00, absolutely whacked, a welt over her forehead and stretching to ease her aching back.
Maggie poured Paris coffee and run a bath for her, growling, "An ex-schoolteacher ought not to try to do a man's work on her first day on the job."
"Fuck men mom, what use are they? Tony should be here doing what I'm doing but he and Rose have discovered booze, group sex and cheaper drugs are more readily available when you're a tertiary student."
"You're exhausted darling. Eat your oat and chocolate cookies for energy and toddle off to your bath. What do you do today?"
"I felled the last twenty dead tree trunks and dug around three of the stumps with the bucket and one by one racked up the stump jacks and finally wrenched out the stumps with the use of tractor power and the chainsaw."
Maggie was appalled. "Darling, that's work for a man."
"Find me one mom and perhaps I'll agree with you. Dad wants that remaining five acres ready to plow this spring and someone has to keep that work on schedule and that person is me."
Maggie pleaded but Paris said no way would she slacken off.
"I'll talk to your father and get him to defer that development on the business plan."
"We must be plowing and planting in the spring mom otherwise will not meet our longer-term contractual obligations to be supplying olives on schedule. We paid through the nose to get those tests done and findings are that with good drainage we'll make a mint from olives to take you and dad into a moneyed retirement."
"A deferment for only a year Paris," Maggie whined.
"No, we'd have to pay the $15,000 contractual penalty and suffer the schedule first year's loss of income. And remember, it will be months before dad is back toward being his old self and the surgeon warned dad will lose some of his former mobility."
"Oh God."
"That's a convenient refuge for you mom. I suggest you use it. Just tell dad I'm clearing out drains. You mention anything about the development block to him mom and I'll swat you; that I promise. "
Maggie sighed and told Paris she'd been such a beautiful baby and was so angelic until she went to high school.
Paris stroked her mother's hair. "Don't put you foot in it where it's not wanted mom and you'll think of me fondly. Just find me a man."
Sharpening up her techniques, next day by noon Paris had wrenched four stumps from the ground and carted them on to a knoll ready for burning. She then lay in the sun, head propped up on a log, hat shielding her face from the weakening late fall sun and ate her meat sandwiches. Thinking about being fucked made her too restless so she switched to thinking about her Grade 6 class and hoped the new teacher had the expertise to keep the students going forward and could love them better than Paris had managed. God, some of them were real shits and that was not only the males.
About that time a guy with blond hair, blue eyes and a figure that caught Maggie's breath stepped out of a pickup and she called, "Over here. What are you hawking?"
"I'm looking for permanent work. Mom said I should try you."
Maggie decided the guy would not be offering the work she had in mind for him. "Go to the kitchen and fetch a couple of beers for yourself from the fridge. If I'd know you were coming I'd comb my hair and put on a bra."
"Mom's like you; only does herself up when visitors are coming or she goes out. She doesn't wear clothes on hot sunny days.
"Are you one of Betty Philip's sons?"
"Yeah, second oldest Gilman."
"Hi Gilman. Are you the one who went to university and returned as a lecturer in animal genetics."
"That's me. Sorry to hear about the old man."
"He's doing okay. Up walking already to keep away clots. It's agony watching him. His face is in pain and he looks to be moving liked a headless rooster."
"Sorry to hear that, I really am. I'm having a year off from lecturing. Mom thought I should offer to give you a hand."
"Go get your beer Gilman. Sounds like we should talk."
* * *
The truth was Gilman had been asked to resign, having being caught screwing the Chaplin's two daughters. He'd arrived home in disgrace and no longer thinking that episode was a really big joke. It had really hurt when some of his closest associates turned on him and openly despised him. Christ, he'd not screwed the Chaplin or his wife and both daughters were in their early twenties.
His parents were devastated when he told him. His father offered him money to go to another country but Gilman said he had plenty of money and had decided to work on the family farm. Gilman father told him aggressively he was not wanted on the farm, as it was ticking along smoothly with his two brothers working in partnership with him. His mother jumped in and told him about Reg Jenk's accident and said all the neighbors had been pitching in but Maggie really needed permanent help.
"Paris resigned from teaching at the school last week to work on the farm but she'll be next to useless bringing that former swamp land in. The other thing big about her are her breasts and head because she has a big opinion of herself."
"Christ, Paris Jenks is still around. I used to go around all day with a hard on thinking about her."
"Gilman please, this is your mother you are speaking to. I will not have blasphemy used in my house."
