The Combine She Drove Home

The Hofer Place

On Monday morning I called in to the co-op and took a week of vacation. My boss, who has known me since before Lowell died, said, “Harvest?” and I said, “Harvest.” He didn’t ask anything else.

We started at the Hofer place at eleven, once the dew was off.

Colby ran Merv’s tractor and grain cart, because Merv lent it to us. Merv said he was done with his beans except the last half quarter, and he’d rather sit on his porch and watch than drive anyway.

Al Hofer came out to the field approach in his pickup at about two o’clock to see how it was going. He stood by his truck with his coffee and watched us make two rounds.

When I stopped at the end to clear the head, he walked over.

“Lynette,” he said. “I didn’t know you could run one of those.”

“Neither did my son,” I said.

Al laughed. Then he looked over at Colby, who was sitting in the grain cart tractor with the door open, waiting for me. Al raised his coffee cup at him.

Colby raised his hand back.

That was all. That was the whole conversation. But I watched my son’s shoulders come down about two inches after that, and I knew the county was going to be all right with him.

The Rhythm

It took us a day to find the rhythm.

The first afternoon, I was nervous on the unload. When you dump on the go, the cart has to match your speed while you keep your eyes on the crop and the mirror. Too slow, beans on the ground. Too fast, beans on his tractor.

Colby kept coming up too fast. I kept waving him back.

On the second day, he came up beside me and stayed there. Exactly there. Like he could feel what I was going to do before I did it.

I looked over at him through the side glass of the cab and he was watching me, not the cart. He gave me a little nod.

I thought about Merv, alongside me in 1998, doing the same thing. I thought about Lowell in his lawn chair at the end of the field with his crutches across his lap.

And I thought, this is what he meant. This is what Lowell meant when he said “this’ll be yours someday.” He didn’t mean the machine. He meant this. The two of you, moving together down a field.