As it turned out, working wasn’t easy with someone who didn’t understand your language. He reminded her of a wild dog, the way he followed her, watching so carefully and sharply. Everything seemed new to him. She took him first to the garden, because it was on the side of the house that was in the shade in the morning. She dropped to her knees, and gestured for him to join her, which he did. She pointed to the small green shoot of an onion and said clearly,
“Plant.” He nodded at once and repeated it, pointing to another shoot. She nodded encouragingly and pointed to a blade of grass.
“Weed.” He frowned, and glanced up at her. He pointed to it slowly. “Weed.”
“Yes!” Then she pulled it up. He watched her face as he reached for a blade of grass, pulling it up, too. She smiled brightly and continued weeding. He caught on remarkably fast, and didn’t pull up a single plant. They reached the end of that row in silence, and moved on to a row of carrots, which was harder for him. He couldn’t tell the difference between the young carrot tops and the blades of grass, but Vern didn’t chastise him when he accidentally pulled one up. He looked completely aghast, holding it out to her apologetically. She laughed and pushed it back.
“It’s fine. Be careful.”
“Careful.” He repeated, and continued down the row with excruciating concentration on his face. When he did accidentally pull up another carrot he looked pained and poked it back into the ground, glancing at Vern, who pretended not to see. It doesn’t really matter. They need to be thinned sometime, anyway. They finished weeding the garden in another hour, with her explaining different words and pointing out different things to him. She stood up, brushing the red dirt off her knees and stretching. She grinned at Gi, and held up her hand for a high five. He looked at her blankly. Vern laughed, a strange look on her face. A teenager who didn’t know about high fives?
“Here, it’s like this.” She took his hand and held it up, slapping it. He looked completely confused. “It means good job.” She explained, even though she knew he didn’t understand. His face loosened a little, not quite a smile, but not the usual frown either.
…..
He followed her all over the farm, helping whenever he could. He handed her staples while she fixed a fence, helped water the garden, but what he seemed to love the most were the animals. Anytime he encountered one he seemed to freeze and become completely enchanted. Vern led him to a the tack closet inside the barn where they kept the poultry feed and took his hands, cupping them. He watched intently, wondering what was happening. She poured a cup of feed into his hands and led him by the arm into the barnyard.
“Reese!” She called, “Bonnie!” Birds came flooding from what seemed like nowhere. Gi’s green eyes went wide with wonder as the huge white goose flapped his wings, hissing. Vern squatted down and he joined her, she motioned for him to hold his hands out. Reese, the goose, came right up to him and began horking down the grain from his hand. She watched his face, a half smile playing on her lips. He was completely enraptured by the birds, but didn’t reach out to touch them. He let the goose eat out of his hands before scattering the rest of the grain as he’d seen Vern do. The flock of ducks and chickens quacked and squawked, making a delightful din. He pointed to the goose, “Reese?”
“Mhmm.” Vern reached out and stroked his white feathers with two fingers. Gi continued, “Mule?” It was very clear he knew it wasn’t a mule, but he didn’t know how to ask what he was. “Goose.” Vern stood up and Gi immediately did the same, although it was quite plain he would have liked to stay on the ground with the birds.
“I have something you’ll like,” She said to him, “Follow me.” One of the things he’d learned in five short hours was “Follow me.” Along with “Good job,” “Be careful,” “Hold this,” “Wait a moment,” and several other individual words and phrases. Veronica was amazed at how fast he obtained and retained information. It didn’t seem like he forgot any of it. Gi followed her into the dimmer interior of the barn, neck craning to look at the horses as they passed. She turned to him at the bottom of the stairs to the hay mow and repeated the familiar phrase, “Be careful,” with the new “Be quiet” sign, with her finger to her lips. He cocked his head, not understanding, but she couldn’t think of any way to explain that to him without words. She didn’t see any real danger of him squealing with delight, so she turned and started up the stairs. She took his hand and helped him up the hatch into the hay mow. Sunlight streamed in through a single window where they threw the bales in. Hay season had already happened, so the mow was quite full. She crawled over the top of the stack and beckoned for him to come. He grunted as his foot sank through a hole between the bales and she suppressed a giggle. She scooched over so he could sit beside her, and heard him suck in his breath. She reached out and stroked the gray cat in front of her, purring in satisfaction as her kittens crawled around in a heap of fur. Vern gently lifted one from the nest of hay and the mother meowed, getting up and following the hands as they glided over to Gi. She climbed onto his knee and reached up to sniff the hand, suspicious that it perhaps held one of her children. She meowed and turned around once anxiously, before returning to the rest of the kittens and watching the humans carefully. Gi stared down at the mound of fur, staying so still Vern had to smile a little. She stroked the head of the white kitten with her thumb and it yawned, looking around with its bright young eyes. Finally Gi’s eyes twitched over to Vern, who held the kitten out to him.
“You can hold her!” She whispered. Gi held out a huge hand and Vern felt a moment of apprehension as she remembered the fist print in the kitchen table. But one more glance at his face and she placed the kitten in his hand without hesitation. There is no way this boy would hurt anything. A confusion of memories flooded her head in response to this thought. The wild, trapped look in his eye when she’d first found him, the sparks flying from the neighbor’s phone. He has the potential to be dangerous, she reminded herself. But Grandfather’s words rang in her head. “All you need to know for today is that you can trust him.” And she did. She relaxed and watched with thoughtful eyes as the large boy held the kitten as gently as if it were made of glass. She picked up another from the remaining four and cradled it to her chest. The mother, whose name was Ras (Short for Raspberries) meowed again, concerned. Without a single moment of hesitation, Gi gently placed the kitten back with the rest of the litter. Vern smiled and rubbed her own kitten against her cheek, breathing in the fresh scent, before returning it also to the nest. They sat and watched them for a minute more, as Ras bathed and purred over her returned children and then settled in to feed them. They made their way silently across the hay mow and down the stairs. When they were back in the barnyard, Vern turned to Gi and grinned.
“You like them?” He nodded, somehow looking happy without smiling.
.....
