The Harvesting of Pecans Pigs and People
by
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The Harvesting of Pecans, Pigs, and People. Introduction. Most people have never experienced fear so suffocating as meeting the reincarnated DNA of the devil himself. Not long ago, I had the unfortunate terror of meeting him and some of his army in the flesh. Just like the old cliche: Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, and indeed he was, except he was walking upright as a man. That day is still so vividly scarred into my mind. Down the winding red gravel roads bordered by poison ivy and rows of unharvested cotton. The sweet aroma of peaches hovered over the salty air, swirling with a tinge of pungy unripe pecans. The songs of the cicadas had ended, yet It was still blazing hot at times, and the birch leaves crunched beneath my feet. The season had painted the tree tops in various bright pigments orchestrated by a sad song of their own, and the occasional chilled dry breeze in the air reminded us of what month was yet to come. It was just before the year that the world wished it could have forgotten, but no mask could ever hide what was to become. Well, let me tell you, like treble hooks embedded into my skin, fear has latched itself on to me, and what had become could never be undone. The scars in the mirror were sure to remind me of this for the rest of my life. Chapter 1, Sara “Tarek, I know you're the little man of the house, and while I'm away, you'll have to be the big man, alright?" I sighed and nodded. "Chin up lil wolf," he chuckled, trying to cheer me up. Daddy's nickname is Wolf, but his real name is Johnny. He wasn't coming with us again. His work owned him; that's what he'd say to Momma sometimes. Grandma T, said he should just be thankful to have a good-paying job. It just wasn't what he wanted to do. Daddy always wanted to go into business for himself. So he bought a pecan farm, but it needed a lot of work, and he was okay with it. He said if you're ever working for a place harder than you're working on yourself, then you ought to consider doing something else. That's what's important, he had said. Sara was my big sister and my best friend. She'd do anything for me, like taking the blame whenever I'd get into anything I shouldn't have, like when I hit a duck flying in the air with a rock on a bet. How was I supposed to know it was the neighbor's pet? They lived a quarter mile down the road, and it was flying along with the wild ones. Okay okay, it was a domestic white one, and it used to crap in our yard all the time. To top it off, guess who would have to clean it up all the time? Yours truly, that was my job, picking up all the poop around the yard, and we had plenty of animals of our own to clean up after. When grandma would come over, she'd greet me saying “Mr. Pooper scooper, my favorite grandson!” The truth is that I'm her only grandson. She'd have me do most of the chores, and if I didn't have them done on time, she'd ask knowing the answer already. And I'd fall into her trap every time. "Ain't you done with this, ain't you done with that?" shed question. "Umm, yes ma,am almost," and if Sara were around, she'd save me butting in. "Yes, Grandma, I'm helping him." Even if she wasn't, and if it was just me there she'd rank all over me. "Boy, you're full of shit!" "Hey Mr. Pooper, scooper is full shit y'all!" Amused by her roadshow humor, her face would wrinkle up and turn red tickled with joy while I would shrink in humiliation. I’d hide behind anything I could find. I'd never ask Sara to cover for me, but she'd cover for me on anything, but I'd never ask her to. She is the best sister. She'd even fight the bully kids from the schoolyard. They were bigger than me. Grandma Thompson didn't like it when she did that. She said if Sara did my fighting, it would just make me soft. Daddy said it didn't make me soft, and it didn't matter because she was looking out for her little brother. Besides, if she were a boy, she wouldn't say that. Sara would say, "Who's got ya back TD?" "Sara, D" I'd say so proudly! She'd smile, nod her head, and give me a wink. “Anna,!” “She's going to make dat boy a little wuss," Grandma T, would carry on. Anna is my Momma's name. "I'm not a wuss." I'd flare up in my defense! Secretly, I didn't mind her scrapping for me because she was good at it. She never lost a fight, but I was no wuss for sure. At least, that's what I'd tell myself. Grandma D, didn't like us fighting anybody. She'd say, "Now look Tarek, I don't want you going out and picking fights, but don't let anybody push you around either." "Sometimes, you have to defend yourself and do it well," she continued. She talked so much about fighting that It got a little confusing. I suspect she must have also been a fighter when she was young. Anyway, Sara liked painting, cooking, and all sorts of things. She said that makes her an Artist. Sometimes, she would make her recipes. She'd use me as her guinea pig, and I'd have to taste all her dishes, but I didn't mind because it was mostly good. Honestly, I'd volunteer more than most of the time. I'd say, "Stop, you can't give that to anybody." "Well, at least until I give it my seal of approval!" I'm not just saying that because she was my sister either!
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The Harvesting of Pecans Pigs and People A Tale of Loss, Suspicion, and the Search for Truth The narrative plunges into a world of profound loss and escalating suspicion, set against the backdrop of a Southern landscape. The story begins with the narrator, Tarek, and his encounter of meeting the devil in human form, haunted by the abduction of his sister, Sara. This traumatic event shatters his family, leading to his parents’ separation and a deep-seated sense of guilt and isolation for Tarek. He grapples with nightmares and the feeling that he failed to protect Sara, leading to constant questioning and a desperate desire to find her. The Unraveling of Trust The search for Sara becomes a central theme, with the family enlisting the help of various detectives and organizations. However, the initial hope gradually fades as leads dry up and the investigation stalls. Tarek’s grandmother, Grandma Thompson, adds to his emotional burden, subtly blaming him for Sara’s disappearance. This creates a toxic environment where Tarek feels increasingly alienated and responsible for the family’s pain. His mother, Anna, struggles with her own grief and the influence of her mother, further isolating Tarek. A Retreat into Danger The story takes a darker turn when Anna and Grandma Thompson attend a women’s retreat with Mary, a friend leaving Tarek in her care. The retreat is revealed to be a front for illegal activities, with Mary’s boyfriend, RC, and his father, Senior, involved in suspicious dealings. Anna stumbles upon their operation, leading to a violent confrontation. Unanswered Questions and Lingering Suspicion The narrative ends with Tarek and Sally Mae, Mary’s niece, seeking refuge in an abandoned truck, observing the suspicious activities surrounding them. The story leaves many questions unanswered, hinting at a deeper conspiracy and the potential for further danger. Johnny, Tarek’s father, remains determined to find his son and uncover the truth behind the events that have shattered his family. The story is a poignant exploration of grief, betrayal, and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable loss.
About the Author
Dale, a trauma survivor, transitioned from autobiography to fiction after realizing his abusers were deceased. His work now addresses societal issues like domestic abuse and human trafficking, aiming to raise awareness and inspire social change through powerful storytelling.