Up North

Tonya and Susan, cousins and both 13, stayed close to each other during their great-grandmother's wake. The wake was crowded with people the girls had never, ever seen before. Their parents chatted and talked with family. Susan, concealing her cell phone in her lap, sent a text message to Tonya: "Where can we go?" Tonya texted back: "IGA."

Susan, visiting from Chicago, knew little of farm life. She saw only an abandoned barn with ancient manure in one corner and rusting machines in the other. The fields were now choked with weeds. Cattle and other farm animals were only seen from the car during the drive. Her great-grandmother fed birds in the side yard; that, as much as anything, was a farm to her. The whole thing, these visits, bored her.

The funeral home was at the north end of the town square. They had a view of the grandstand in the middle of the lawn. The town offices were next to the funeral home. Then there was the library, a bowling alley, a laundromat, a tavern with a Pabst sign, another tavern but with an Old Style sign, a hardware store, yet another tavern, and, finally, the I.G.A.

It was summer and the warm day had turned cool. "We have to hurry before it closes," Tonya said. "Only the bars stay open late."

As they walked, Susan made a face as a breeze delivered the smell of fresh manure, and along one of the side streets there was a pile of horse poop in the road. "Amish," Tonya explained.

At the I.G.A., just inside the door, there was a bank of six vending machines. There was one that dispensed small rubber animals for a quarter, and they took turns with the purchases, each hoping for their favorite--Tonya liked cows and Susan liked pigs--and saddened ever so slightly when they got yet another chicken.

A woman walked in with two young girls. They were all dressed in plain cotton dresses of dull blue. One of the young girls stopped to watch them at the machine as her mother continued on into the store.

Susan sent a text to Tonya: "She smells bad."

"Barn smell," Tonya texted in reply.

They exhausted their quarters, and laid out the prizes between them: two cows, one pig, three horses, one monkey, and five chickens. As they gathered them up, the girl reached in her pocket and held out in her palm a small, rubber elephant.

Tonya and Susan looked at the machine, and there, in the corner, was an elephant.

"Do you want to trade?" Tonya asked. The girl nodded. Susan offered her a chicken.

"I like chickens," the girl said.

Tonya gave her a second one, as well. She turned to Susan and said, "We'll share the elephant."

After the girl had run after her mother, Susan said, "I didn't think Amish would do that sort of thing."

"She's Mennonite," Tonya explained. "They do some stuff."

As they crossed the town square, Susan's cell phone vibrated. "It's my mom. We have to get back."

Susan placed the phone back into her pocket and the elephant slipped unnoticed from her grip; it fell quietly onto the lawn.

Holt, Michigan 2009