Such an Odd Harvest

 

   September 23, 2024

                                                   

Jessica was giving me an odd look, and it was way too early in the morning for that. At least that’s the way I felt at first, but more on that in a minute. She had been my little sister for six years since the parents brought her home all smiles, and I loved her, but sometimes…

Anyway. The look.

So I was sitting there on the back porch on a way too early Sunday morning, wondering about that strange smell that seemed to be coming from somewhere not too far away. Closer than I’d like. It was a sour kind of smell, not a good smell at all, but this was the city and bad smells weren’t exactly a brand new experience. Especially not in this neighborhood. But something about the way this particular scent hit the nostrils was not quite right.

“What? What is it?” I said, when I first sensed Little Sister (what I called her sometimes because it seemed more fitting) standing behind me. Plus I heard the screen door squeal, followed by the padded landing of one, then two small feet.

The screen door slammed shut. She didn’t answer.

“Jessica. What is it.”

That’s when she sniffed, followed by a slight shuffling of those two small feet. Small even for a six-year-old. But she still wouldn’t answer, which wasn’t like her. She wasn’t the type you had to beg to say something. Even if she didn’t have anything really to say, Jessica liked to ramble on about whatever just for what I called talking practice for when she might have something to say that was actually interesting.

I turned around, feeling a bit irritated until I saw the expression on her face, which is why I said at the start more on that in a minute. I was all prepared to tell Jessica to either say whatever it was she wanted to say, worth listening to or not, or would she please just go on back inside the house where Mom and Dad could be bothered with her. The parents were always saying I needed to be a better big brother, but I felt like that wasn’t necessarily my job. Wasn’t my decision to make another one is what I said one time, which got me knocked halfway across the living room. Fair enough, I guess.

But like I was saying, there was that expression on her face, which was small and almost perfectly round, like a chocolate lollipop. Maybe caramel. Yeah, more like caramel. Her eyes, which were kinda slanted, same as mine, were staring at me hard. Like maybe there was someone inside of her who was much older. It wasn’t that she looked angry, just...serious. And she hadn’t been alive long enough to be that serious about anything.

“What is it?” I asked again, sounding not quite as Big Brother Bothered. “You can tell me, Jessica. I’m your brother.”

She nodded.

“OK.”

More silence as she kept staring.

“Is something wrong? Want me to go get Mom?”

She shook her head.

“She’s across the street in that vacant lot. Took me with her to see, but I didn’t like it. Mom said I was old enough to help with the harvest and tried to make me stay, but I ran back across the street before she could grab me.”

“Harvest? What harvest? What was she talking about? Where was Dad?”

She shook her head again. Then she asked, “Did you know?”

“Did I know what, Jessica?”

The expression on her face was molding into one of fear as she began to tremble slightly.

“There were faces. In the weeds. They…they were growing on the weeds.  But they smelled funny. One of them looked at me and it was starting to talk but then Mom pulled it off the weed and put it in this sack she had over her shoulder. She told me I could pick the next one, but that’s when I ran.”

It was unusually warm that morning, but I felt cold. The kind of cold that weather couldn’t help.

“Is anybody inside?”

“No. Mom stayed across the street, and I don’t know where Daddy is.”

“Get your coat.”