The Camels Of Misfit Farm Chapter 4

Maura listened to the soft clink of the stainless steel containers of milk as she drove her battered Subaru through Greenfield, an old mill town of 6500 people and the seat of Carson County. Her Grandmother used to call it "a wide spot in the road where tourists only stop to get gas and pee." It was 45 miles east of Haywood and 2000 feet lower in elevation. Haywood was a tourist mecca particularly attractive to liberal and artist types in the next county over. Driving "up the mountain" from Greenfield to Haywood was like traveling to a different planet due to the contrasts in culture and politics.

Empty storefronts and deteriorating buildings lined the main street of the Greenfield downtown she remembered as active and colorful. The yellow brick courthouse looked like it could use a good power washing and a street preacher still stood on the corner screaming the Gospel with an open Bible in his hand. The Victorian brick Baptist church still dominated downtown with buildings and parking lots covering 4 square blocks. The pawnshop was on the same corner with a window full of musical instruments and signs promoting Saturday gatherings to sing gospel. She was happy to see a fledgling art gallery and a restaurant in the old Smithey's Department Store. The barbershop her grandfather visited on Saturdays was open and busy.

Used car lots, thrift stores, and self-storage facilities dominated the outskirts of Greenfield. Yard signs and bumper stickers from a highly conservative political campaign were still common three years after the candidate lost the election. She saw several automobiles with Confederate flags or religious decals on the back windows. Every patrol car or town-owned vehicle had "In God We Trust" in large black letters on the back bumper.

GPS led her to a 1940's neighborhood on a hill overlooking the site of a once-thriving cotton mill, now reduced to six blocks of brick and concrete rubble. Her customer lived in a white clapboard cottage at the end of a dead-end street dominated by kudzu.

"Hello, dear." An older woman with a strong Creole accent met her on the front porch, "I am Chloe." The top of her head barely came to Maura's shoulder.

"You, come have tea." She ushered Maura into a fragrant kitchen and pointed to a cane-bottomed chair at a small table. A cheerful yellow teapot, mismatched floral mugs, and a plate of cookies were waiting.

"You realize you can't drink the milk, don't you?" Maura asked, "My kitchen has not been certified."

"No worries, it's for making lotions and soap." Her hostess shrugged. "Next time, bring some of your herbs. Lavender, rosemary, thyme, peppermint, sweet balm."

"How do you know I have herbs? I did not advertise that!"

Her hostess chuckled, "I know things." She wiggled eyebrows and smiled. "Next Spring you bring me bamagilly buds from the riverbank, too. Yes?" Balsam Poplar was not a common tree in Carson County. The resinous buds were collected to make an ointment known as Balm of Gilead.

Maura was frightened. "How do you know any of this? Have you been to the farm?"

Chloe patted her hand, " Now, you don't worry. The spirits tell me things. No, I haven't been to your farm. I just got here."

Maura decided to be safe and play along. Who was this bat-shit crazy woman, anyway? She seemed harmless, if eccentric and foreign.

"What brought you here?"

"Spirit told me to come."

"Here, sweetie!" Chloe picked up a tattered deck of cards and began to shuffle. "Spirit wants to talk to you."

"Ooooooh! There you are!!" The card that dropped out of the table pictured a redheaded woman surrounded by sunflowers and small animals. She sat on a throne with a white cat in her lap. A hawk sat on her shoulder. "Yes! Yes!" she muttered, "With that red hair! This is you!"

"It can't be me! She doesn't have freckles!" She tried to make a joke of it. Her myriad freckles, all over her body, not just on her face, had been the subject of crude jokes and embarrassment her whole life. "And there are no chickens or goats there!"

"Bah!" Chole continued shuffling the cards, "You are beautiful! You love the Earth and its babies!"

Another card fell out of the deck; a bound and blindfolded woman surrounded by swords pointing at her heart. Storm clouds loomed in the background. "You feel trapped! Is why you are so shy!"

"I don't know. Maybe. But it was my choice to come back here."

"Yeeeessssss! But. . . . how are you feeling now?"

"Okay, you're right."

"Now what? Let's see." Chloe whispered and she continued to shuffle the tattered old cards. "Ah!" The next card to fall depicted a thunderstorm with lightning striking a tall steeple.

"Surprises coming."

More? Maura thought. Not sure if I can stand many more. She was diplomatically silent, waiting for the reading to be over so she could leave.

The next card was two hands holding a cracked and weeping heart. "Oooh, honey," Chloe patted her hand, "So sorry, so very sorry! You're so tenderhearted! Who hurt you?"

"Don't ask," Maura muttered.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle! Two people standing in a flower garden face to face, holding a chalice between them." Nice!" Chloe said, "Better times coming."

Maura struggled to keep from scoffing at the pleasantly batty old lady with grey dreadlocks, a musical accent, and strings of bright beads around her neck.

"Last one!" Chloe closed her eyes and whispered something unintelligible as she continued to shuffle the deck. The final card on the table was of a couple embracing in a garden of flowers.

"Oh, yes!" Chloe's voice was jubilant! "It will all be okay!"

"How? What?" Maura felt as if she were being played, that Chloe was teasing her, fishing for money, and trying to take advantage of her anxiety.

"Time to go!" Chloe hustled her through the front room of the cottage onto the porch, pressing cash into her hand. "You are a lovely lady! Take good care. See you next time!"

"Shouldn't I pay you for the reading?" Maura asked.

"Oh, no, no, no! Spirit gives freely, so do I. "

"Thank you." Bemused, Maura said, "Herbs next week? which ones again?"

"You will know. Listen to the plants! Now go! Shoo! Shoo!" She kissed Maura's cheek and flapped her hands at her. "You need to take care of the camels!"

Camels? How did she know about the camels? As she drove away Maura reminded herself to ask Bobby if visitors had been to the farm.

(Next up: The Car Wash)