Read Online Under the Same Sky by Cynthia DeFelice - Free Book Online

the secret.
    Anyway, without question, the best part of the week was payday. When we got back to the barn that Friday afternoon, Dad and Uncle Bud were there working on the busted sprayer.
    â€œHey there, Joe!” Uncle Bud called when he saw me.
    I was always glad to see Uncle Bud. His wide, sunburned face was usually lit up with a toothy grin, and today was no exception. Unlike Dad, who took farm work pretty seriously, Uncle Bud seemed to let the worries about market prices, ornery weather, and broken-down machinery roll right off his back. Dad was always saying farming was the best way for a man to make a living, and I knew he believed it. But Uncle Bud actually acted as if he got a big kick out of every little thing he did.
    â€œYour father told me you were out with the crew,” Uncle Bud said, standing up to greet me with a pat on the back. “How’s it feel to be a working man?”
    â€œPretty good,” I said, smiling back at him. “Especially since it’s payday.”
    Uncle Bud whooped as if I’d said something hilarious. “You got that right, Joe,” he said. Then he fake-whispered, “You think your daddy’s gonna pay me for all my work on this sprayer?” He laughed again, in answer to his own question. With a wink in my direction, he added, “He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s helping me get in my hay tomorrow.”
    I grinned and nodded. That was the way it was. The uncles and Dad all helped one another out.
    â€œOh, by the way,” Uncle Bud continued, “I left something in the house for you from your Aunt Kay. She said to tell you she’s sorry we had to miss your birthday. I told her I didn’t think you’d say no to a gift just because it was a little late in coming.”
    â€œTell her thanks,” I said. “And thanks to you, too.”
    Dad stood up then, taking a bunch of white envelopes out of his back pocket. He went out and handed them around to the crew, who were standing by the truck talking. I kind of hoped that when Dad gave me mine he’d clap his hand on my shoulder and say, Nice work, son or Don’t thank me. You earned it, Joe .
    Yeah, right.
    Before I’d even taken the envelope from his hand, he’d turned away to talk to Manuel about the trouble they were having with the sprayer. Of course, Manuel went right over as if he knew exactly what to do.
    But even that couldn’t ruin the pleasure of ripping open my first pay envelope and pulling out the check made out to Joseph O. Pedersen in the amount of two hundred seventy-eight dollars and thirty-nine cents! I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was the most money I’d ever held in my hand in my life, and it was mine. I’d earned it. Right at that moment, I almost could imagine being the head of a household and supporting a family. I was a breadwinner, man! It was a very cool feeling.
    I looked up to see Jorge watching me with a wide grin. “You win lottery, Little Boss?”
    â€œNot exactly,” I said, smiling back. “But payday —es muy bueno! ” It was my first attempt at speaking any Spanish, and I hoped I was saying, “Payday is very good.”
    â€œ ¡Sí, es excelente! ” he replied.
    I had no trouble understanding—or agreeing with—that. He added something else, which I didn’t catch. It made me wish I could communicate a little better. I remembered I’d had a Spanish dictionary back in third grade, and I decided to see if I could find it. It would be fun to sprinkle some Spanish words casually into my conversation while we were working. Maybe I could make Luisa smile. Maybe even Manuel. That would be something.
    I followed the driveway toward the house, sneaking peeks in the envelope as I walked. Mom and the girls were in the kitchen, and they all gathered around to look at my check. Mom, of course, had already seen it: she’d written it. But she oohed and aahed