7. Samuel
SAMUEL
RIGHT BEHIND THAT TREE
My brain only kicked on, realizing that I was neither home nor in my apartment, when the engine of one of the farm's tractors cracked through the air like the shot of a starter pistol kicking off a race.
I sat up, my skin peeling off the brown leather couch after sticking to it for what must’ve been hours.
The light blue knit blanket Grace had given me earlier was crumpled on the gray carpet, lying between the couch and the tiled coffee table.
Sunlight shone through the two angled windows in the roof of the refurbished attic that was Gordy’s room, casting grill-shaped shadows onto the twin-sized bed underneath.
A musky smell lingered, reminding me of a lion’s den, and I wasn’t particularly keen to find out where it came from.
The coffee table held my phone, and my hand went straight to it. 11:43 am. Not too late to still join the workday.
My legs ached when I stood up, sending a brief jolt through my body, but it was still only half as bad as how I’d felt before Grace and Benji had forced me to take a nap.
They had made the right call. Even inside this decently tempered room, the heat was already palpable, and the headache looming in the back of my skull screamed dehydration.
I would’ve collapsed for sure if I’d gone out into the orchard without any rest.
Taking my time to wake up every inch of my body, I shuffled out of Gordy’s room, down the stairs, through their cafeteria-sized kitchen, and out the back door that led straight into the yard.
A wall of heat welcomed me fully back to reality, but so did a refreshing gust of wind, promising that I could do this. Step by step, it got easier. The more I moved, the more I felt like myself again.
The barn’s double doors were closed, probably to keep the hot air out, and when I pulled them open, I didn’t find an empty room.
Six of my older coworkers sat there, crammed together on a bench far too small for even five of them, everyone already halfway through a burrito, sandwich, or whatever else they had brought.
I froze. Why weren’t they out in the fields?
Since I’d been told to take lunch with me these past few days, it had never occurred to me that eating in here was even an option.
“Ah, sleeping beauty,” Luis, the same guy I had been working with yesterday, said with a slight accent, his mosquito-net-covered hat lying on the ground in front of him. “You finished college... eh... cómo se dice?” He turned to the guy next to him, muttering in Spanish. The guy shrugged.
I had no clue what Luis was talking about, but I barely got a second to wonder before Gordy rushed toward me like a nurse chasing down a runaway patient.
“Samuel, you made it,” Gordy said, his voice three notes higher than usual.
“Grace told everyone that you worked the entire night on that, uh, essay and called in to ask if it was cool for you to start late.” His grin told me he was lying through his teeth, but after this morning’s chat with Grace and Benji, I got the gist. “Did you finish everything all right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I nodded, glancing at Luis, who gave me a thumbs-up and an approving grin.
Gordy slung an arm over my shoulder like we were suddenly best friends, steering me away out of our colleagues' earshot. “I wish Grace would ever be that generous with any other guy.” He threw a look over his shoulder. “She must really have a crush on the rookie, don’t you think?“
The guys burst into laughter, hooting like this was a locker room.
A weird chill zipped down my spine. Gordy was really running with the lie, despite knowing that I didn’t swing that way.
And yeah, it helped dodge nosy questions.
.. but it also made me squirm. Still, what choice did I have?
I put on an embarrassed smile and scratched the back of my head, muttering, “I think she was just being nice.”
“Sure, sure,” Gordy shoved me along. “Let’s get you all set up.”
We headed to his standing desk, and only when we reached it did he take his arm off my shoulder, stretching it like touching me had worn him out. His eyes flicked back at the crew, who had gone back to eating and chatting.
Gordy waved me closer and lowered his voice. “Since you’re here, I’m guessing you’re ready to work?”
“If that’s okay.”
“Are you asking me ? You’re lucky Benji and Grace are on your side. I just want to get those damn oranges in. Every pair of hands that should’ve been working since this morning is more than welcome to do so.” He stepped back to his laptop and typed something into it.
“I’m sorry I caused so much trouble.”
“Yeah, whatever. I couldn’t care less. Just shut your trap and never mention it to anyone. You don’t want trouble with my dad, believe me.”
Gordy reached underneath the table and pulled out a brown paper bag with an Out&About Burger logo on it, handing it to me.
“Since you’re here now, take this to Benji, will you? Then you at least save me the trouble of heading out into the heat,” he said, staring at his screen like looking at me was beneath him. “He’s in rows eighteen and nineteen. Take whichever one he hasn’t started yet.”
“Got it,” I nodded. Whatever happened when I was gone clearly hadn’t made Gordy happy, but addressing that had to wait. The only thing that mattered now was getting back to work—and making sure Mr. Farley never found out.
I almost overlooked Benji up on his ladder, blending into the green leaves with his earthy-colored clothes and the green bag around his shoulders, as if he had worn camouflage on purpose. Focused, his hands moved so fast that they could outcompete a harvesting machine.
With a quick step, I made my way toward him.
My shoulders ached—the left one carrying my picking bag, which already made the points of contact sweat more than the rest of my body, the right one hoisting the ladder just high enough to keep it from stirring up dust (because, believe me, this dust was different, the kind that crawled through every opening in your clothes and glued itself to every drop of sweat forever).
When I was about thirty feet away, Benji spotted me, doing a double-take, before his hands came to a halt.
“What are you doing here?” he yelled through the field.
“I can’t let you do all the work alone,” I called back.
By the time I reached him, he had already climbed down, his shoulders set high despite his bag being nearly filled to the brim.
“You should be resting.” His cheeks tensed as he spoke—more worried than angry.
“I slept the entire morning. That's more than enough. I can work. I’m not that weak.” I leaned my ladder against the tree across the one Benji had just worked on, shrugged off the picking bag, and pulled out the lunch package. “Gordy asked me to give you this.”
“That wasn’t...” Benji glanced at it for a moment before his face softened. “...thank you.” The corners of his mouth tugged up a little as our eyes met. “I appreciate it.”
The brown paper bag rustled as Benji took it and walked back to his tree. He squatted just enough that the picking bag touched the ground and slipped out of the strap.
“But before you get up on the ladder, you’re eating lunch with me,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for discussion. He sat down in the tree’s shade, knees bent, and dropped the lunch bag between his legs as he unfolded it. Pulling out a wrapped burger, he held it out to me. “Here.”
“Oh no?—“
He took a deep, slow breath—one of those that make your blood freeze with a thousand unspoken threats—and nudged the burger closer until I gave in, took it, and sat down next to him on the ground.
Benji fumbled out another one for himself and unwrapped it, biting into it right away. He barely chewed before taking another bite.
The wind crept around the trees and set the leaves swaying. Only the rustling of the burger wrappers between our fingers interrupted the peaceful silence.
I peeked at Benji as he rummaged through the brown bag, pulling out another burger.
His fingers slid under the wrapper with the same precision they used to pluck oranges.
A dark smudge snaked from the knuckle of his index finger across the calloused skin and up toward his wrist. His nails were cut short.
My eyes drifted up his neck. The collar of his shirt sagged where he bent forward, revealing a sharp line of farmer's tan.
Sunbeams broke through the leaves and danced on his glistening neck, much like fireflies did behind my parents' house.
I could’ve stared for hours, if only the one thing I hoped to see hadn’t still been missing.
“You still haven’t found the necklace, have you? I was hoping you’d have more luck than I.”
Benji stopped chewing. His left thumb traced up and down the wrapper of his burger.
“It’s okay,” he said, taking another bite, chewing slower now than before. “What matters is that you didn’t get hurt.” He turned toward me. “Why didn’t you leave when the sun went down? It must’ve been pitch black out here.”
“Because I could tell how much that necklace meant to you. I imagined being in your shoes, and I would’ve been devastated if I were you. Besides, there was moonlight. And stars. I could see well enough.”
Benji straightened his back, crossing his legs. “Imagine you tripped over something and hit your head. You could’ve died before anyone found you.” His voice was gentle, almost apologetic. “You really shouldn’t have been so reckless. Not for me.”
I looked down at the ground.
He was right.
I had been reckless.
Maybe I should’ve thought more about potential consequences. Still, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Benji watched me for another moment before looking away.
“Even so... thank you. I appreciate what you did, dumb as it was.”
“It was dumb, wasn’t it?” I laughed. I didn’t know why, but it burst out of me, as if it had been locked inside for years.
“Yeah,” Benji said, now chuckling too. “Shouldn’t you be the smart one here?”
For a moment, the laughter under that orange tree erased everything—no worries, no second-guesses, no barriers between us.
For those few seconds, Benji’s eyebrows weren’t clenched together as if he needed them as a shield from the world.
I wasn’t watching my own expression like I had to prove something to everyone around me.
We simply existed, not being a threat or someone to be wary of.
If only my parents and everyone else in this town could see this—see us—so they’d know the truth, too.
We caught our breath a second later.
“I know it probably doesn’t help,” I said, “but I still think it’ll turn up somewhere.”
Benji nodded, squinting his right eye at me. “I think so, too.”
“It was just in the next row after all. We should walk it back later and have another look.”
“Yeah.” He switched his burger from one hand to the other and then back again.
“This necklace means a lot to me. My mom... she was the only one who ever saw me for who I am. She believed in me, sometimes more than I believed in myself. When she gave it to me, I swore that I would try to become the good guy she always thought I was.” His gaze dropped to the ground.
“But I still have a long way to go.” He peeked at me but looked away when our eyes met, like he hadn’t meant to say so much.
He shoved the last bit of his burger into his mouth and stood up, still chewing.
“We should get back to work. I went as fast as I could, but it turned out you weren’t as slow as I had thought. ”
I shoved the last two bites into my mouth and got up too, following his lead.
For two hours, we worked tree after tree, our hands moving as fast as possible. We didn’t talk much—not because there was nothing to say, but because we were focused. Catching up on lost time. Making things right.
That was, until Benji suddenly stopped, his head rising high above the tree. “No fucking way,” he yelled out of nowhere, his eyes darting into the other aisle, where we had searched yesterday.
I followed his gaze, my heart racing, but saw nothing.
Benji scrambled down the ladder and ran twenty feet, the picking bag swinging around his shoulder. He crouched down, with his back toward me, and two seconds later, raised his arm high.
The necklace sparkled inside his hand.
Warmth flooded my body—not the kind from hours in the sun, but the kind that makes every cell in your body sing. Carefully not to be dragged back by the weight of my bag, I climbed down my ladder and met Benji halfway.
He showed off the necklace, a broad grin on his face. “Guess I had to be with you after all to find it.”
“No need to thank me,” I said. “I didn’t do anything.”
Benji’s grin immediately faded into something firmer. “If you hadn’t come to join me, I wouldn’t have been able to even look at the other aisle, so please... just let me thank you.”
We stared at each other for a little too long, our eyes locking like there was something between us that was still unsaid. Benji’s cheeks seemed hollow, despite the smile he wore.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft, almost fragile. “I won’t forget it. If there is anything you ever need help with, let me know, I’ll be there.”