Self Portrait

George Jones stood in the kitchen door of his Eastern Carolina home, and with worried expression watched the dark clouds gather in the West. All day he had labored alone in his ten-acre cotton field and faced a hopeless task of saving his crop from weeds. His father had died some years before and his aged mother had become too feeble to help with the cultivation. The old broken-down mule was too slow to work. There was only one thing left to do--he must get help.

Turning slowly to his mother who was clearing the table of supper dishes, he said, "Mother, I'm going over to Jule's for a few minutes. I'll see if I can get him and some of his children to help in the cotton field tomorrow. I'll never be able to clear it by myself."

The old woman walked to the door beside him and looked outside. She shrank back when she saw the darkening clouds.

"No, son," she said, shaking her head slowly, "I think I'd wait till after the rain. I'm afraid we're going to have a bad storm and it's nights like this that Harriet's ghost prowls around."

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Paintings in this story: ©Copyright 1995, Debra Cooper