FourMile

Chapter 1

I heard mom calling, but I didn't answer. I lay in the scattered hay and stared at the afternoon sunbeams angling through the big bay doors of the barn. Against the wall were damp, moldy bales that had been in the same place for over a year. They smelled more of wet dirt and decay than anything fresh-cut. Two sheets of tin had blown off the roof during the winter and the place was rotting. There was too much to do now. Mother and I couldn't keep up.
I rolled over and faced my dog, joe. He lifted his chin and nosed the chewed-up stick lying in front of him.
"Not right now," I said.
Joe rested his chin on the ground again. He was patient.
"Foster!" Mother called again.
I stood and walked into the sunbeams with Joe following. I stopped outside and looked across the yard at her. She'd known where I was, but she wouldn't come after me. She didn't like the barn now. She said there was nothing we could do about it.
"Dax's here!" She called. "Come get washed up before dinner!"
I looked over the rail fence at the pasture beyond. The cows had been gone for several months, sold to the farmer behind us. Johnsongrass grew waist-high, looking like something that would be a giant briar patch in another year. Daddy's farm truck and Kubota tractor sat under the shed. The place had grown still and quiet and lifeless. There was nothing we could do about any of it.