“Field of Wild Flowers”

Edwina was a city born and raised woman who had dreamed of a bucolic lifestyle ever since she read, “Charlotte’s Web” as a child. Whenever she was feeling stressed she would imagine herself on a small farm, raising a flock of chickens, milking dairy goats, making her own cheese, cultivating a garden patch with tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, and strawberries.

When Edwina and Richard divorced, Edwina was determined to live her dream. Not having confidence in herself to do it alone, but being the eternal pragmatist, Edwina decided to search the personal ads for single farmers in her region of Wisconsin. She was amazed at how many there were to choose from. Putting in her select preferences and writing an amazing profile that any farmer in his right mind would love, Edwina activated her account.

By the next morning there were a dozen farmer responses to her ad. With her background in spreadsheet creation and analysis, it wasn’t long before Edwina had a 20 page chart report that broke the farmers down by their desirable (to her) attributes, which included looks, acreage, crop, experience, age, proximity, marital history, and how eager they were to meet her. Poring over the charts, she narrowed the field to 6, and soon had dates set up with all of them.

One by one she met them and made her notations in the charts when she got home. There were three left at the end of this round. But only one hit on every field: Harry.

Harry was a 45 year-old organic farmer with 30 acres of every fruit and vegetable that Edwina loved, as well as free-range chickens and dairy goats. He was as rugged and handsome as a movie star and fit as a fiddle. He had inherited the farm from his parents, who had both passed away, and so had started his trade from childhood. The farm was five miles from where Edwina worked, in a sleepy little village with not much more than a gas station, church, and small grocery store. Harry was a widower who had been married from age 20-22; he’d not remarried and there were no children. Harry had been early for their first date and gave her a lovely bouquet of fragrant wild roses (thorns trimmed) with baby’s breath, gentian violet, and maidenhair ferns, arranged in a Mason jar. Harry had a quiet intelligence with a good sense of humor.

They courted over the fall and winter. It had only been 6 months since her divorce, but Edwina knew Harry was the one for her. That spring, at planting time, she and Harry became husband and wife. Edwina was a big help on all of the no-brainer chores like weeding, feeding and watering the chickens, collecting the eggs, shoveling goat manure, etc. Harry taught her how to milk the goats, and with practice, she got better.

As a joyful newcomer to the pastoral life, everything was a delight. Each time she would run to Harry, who was busy with mending a fence or clearing a field or any of the hundreds of chores a farmer does every day. Her voice breathless, her spirits high, she would describe the butterfly she saw, or how the baby chicks ran after their mother, or how the goldfinch rode the swaying sunflowers in the breeze. Each time, Harry would nod, expressionless, and continue with his work. The first few times, Edwina brushed it off as Harry having good focus and wanting to get his chore complete. After awhile, Edwina noticed that Harry was apathetic to much of what she said.

Edwina would share her stories with her friends and co-workers, who, also city born and raised, enjoyed hearing about them. Edwina convinced herself that it was ok if Harry wasn’t excited about a new butterfly, as this was all ordinary life for him.

Then the backhanded comments started, usually under Harry’s breath. Most of the time they were putdowns on her city-living background or that she was female. To add insult to injury, in the bedroom, Harry’s proclivities turned to the bizarre, when he wanted only missionary position and told her to bleat like a goat because it turned him on. Edwina, who prided herself on ignoring most sexual taboos, was quick to quash her aversion to the request. What harm did a few sound effects matter.

One fine summer afternoon, Harry took a truckload of produce to the nearby upscale restaurant who prided itself on its all organically grown and prepared from scratch menu. While Harry was gone, Edwina decided to take a nice walk out in the meadows behind the cultivated fields. She was leaving her cares behind enjoying the wildflowers, birds, and other sights, smells, and sounds. She was near the woodline and came to a small wrought-iron enclosed area that she soon realized was a family burial plot. Opening the well-oiled gate, she saw six headstones. Two had large stones, where Harry’s parents were buried. Behind these two were not the usual engraved names and dates of birth and death. Each of the four stones had but one word on them, each a different word.

“Cheater”

“Liar”

“Lazy”

“Mouthy”

It was only after seeing these four that Edwina noticed there was another behind them – blank.

The blank grave seared a picture that was worth a thousand words into Edwina’s brain.

Edwina ran as fast as spring rains come down the mountain back to the house. Praising Goddess Harry wasn’t back yet, she packed her things and headed for her divorce lawyer’s office.   

The End.

Fandango’s FOWC is apathetic and the Word of the Day Challenge is bucolic.

Yves is the host of Mindlovemisery Menagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt.  This week Yves wants us to write using idioms.