Short Story: Inspired by the Song Amarillo Sky, by Jason Aldean

Based entirely on the contemporary country song by Jason Aldean, this story holds a dear place in my heart.

The alarm clock rang with a certainty in the early hours of a humid spring morning. Dan rolled over to slap the snooze button, but he wasn't going back to sleep. Instead he carefully sat up and looked at the dial.

 

"4 a.m." he muttered to himself, "Stupid daylight savings time"

 

Groaning softly, Dan reached for his faded overalls. His muscles complained as he forced them to labor in the early hours. Fully dressed, Dan reached for the doorknob, turning to gaze at the sleeping figure of his wife. Thirty years was a long time, but it felt like yesterday he vowed his life to her. He knew she would be mad at him for letting her sleep in, but she deserved it.

 

Walking down the hall, Dan made sure to avoid the floorboards that creaked. Susan wouldn't wake up, but he wasn't sure about Ben. Ben was their grandson who lived with them while his parents sorted their lives out. Shaking his head, Dan thought of the way his only daughter had tied herself down to a city slicker. "She knows she belongs out on the farm. Half of her wants it, but the other half is loyal to her husband."

 

Dan reached the kitchen and started the coffee maker. It wouldn't take very long and he could fix his lunch while it was percolating. A couple of pieces of wheat bread with the leftover ham from supper last night, and mustard to top it off, that and the rest of the coffee would make for a tasty lunch.

 

Once outside, Dan took in the whole view of his farm. The red barn wasn't as red anymore, it looked worn down. The tractor that he bought in 1980 was a far cry from new, but it still ran and did its job. A thumping from under the porch Dan stood on, alerted him to the presence of Ole Bob.

 

"Hi there Buddy!" He called to the arthritic old beast. The dog merely answered with another thump of his tail. "Yep, it's going to be another scorcher," Dan continued looking up at the sky, crystal clear, the sun beginning to peak into the horizon. Turning back to the dog he resumed, "I'd love to crawl up under there with you Bob, but corn has to be planted before its too late. I just hope it rains soon," he looked again at the sky.

 

The sun was higher in the sky, now it cast a yellow hue though the atmosphere. "Amarillo," he looked at the dog. Ole Bob just crooked his head as if unsure of that new word. "Amarillo means yellow in Spanish. See the Amarillo Sky?" Bob laid his head back on his paws. "It's okay, buddy," Dan chuckled to himself. He talked to that dog too much and he knew it, but they had a strong bond.

 

It was back in '83 when the crops where knee high that Ole Bob came into the world. Dan's youngest boy, Billy was concerned about the momma dog. "She'll be just fine," he assured his son, "She's brought more litters into the world than you could count." But nonetheless he was persuaded to again check on the animal.

 

While out in the barn, a fierce storm sprung up, with hail the size of golf balls. Dan could do nothing but stand at the door, the wind howling at him, mocking him, the hail pounding the life out of his best crop in ten years. In his hands he held the lone puppy that made it though alive. The puppy lifted his head to lick the man's hand. Since then, the two had been best of friends. It gave new meaning to the age old adage "man's best friend." Ole Bob had been a confidant ever since that day in the barn when Dan told hi m of his troubles. "There goes the farm, my life," he had told that puppy. "I can't live without dirt to plant in, crops to raise, fields to plow. My father, my grandfather, all were farmers. It's in my blood, it's my life." Worry racked his brow, and when he returned to the house after the storm passed snow white hair was beginning to show in his once lush brown locks.

 

But he didn't lose the farm, and today he was ready to begin again another season. A few bags of seed sat in the barn, ready to be loaded into the planter. Not as young as he once was, his work took longer than he had anticipated. His three sons often tried to remove the workload of their father, but the nearest son lived an hour away. Each member of his family had grown and moved off to live with families of their own. When he died he would be able to leave land to them, but for now it was still his.

 

Finally he checked the gas tank before driving out to the field to begin planting. The tank was low, but it should last the day, he reasoned. Diesel was too high priced at the moment to invest in the time and energy for a quick trip to town. Climbing up into the driver's seat, Dan fondly started the old tractor. As the engine warmed up, he fussed with the dials of the radio. Strains of "International Harvester" and "John Deere Green" met his ears before he found the morning farmer's report.

 

Weekly stock reports flowed from the speakers as he drove his tractor into the field. He planned to sell the rest of the corn he had stored in the silos, but the reports showed prices for corn too low for even the possibility to break even. Turning the radio to a music station, Dan decided to concentrate on the task at hand. He drove the tractor with a steady hand, though the dust from lack of rain billowed up in the tractor's driver compartment.

 

A few hours later, the sun beat down unmercifully on the old man and tractor. The noon reports showed the market with fear of further falling grain prices. The weather report allowed no optimism for rain within the next week. A few turns from being finished with the field, the tractor came to a dead halt, empty of precious fuel.

 

"Lord," Dan cried jumping out of the tractor, kneeling on his prized ground, "I know you are listening. You've always been there when I needed you, and I really need you now."

 

Strength failed him, and he used his hands to support his tired body. His hands caressed the dirt he lovingly labored over day and night. Falling back on his heels he held his fists full of dirt up to Heaven as he continued. "I've never questioned why all these things happened to me, I've always made it through before with your grace. I tried hard not to complain, because I watched my children and crops grow before, and I know they can grow again. I just can't lose my dreams now. The fields can't run dry. Please, watch over me and my family underneath this Amarillo Sky."

Author's Note

If you know the song, did I do a good job of incorporating the song's lyrics into the story? Any other comments are appreciated as well. :-)

Reviews

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Good job once again.