Smoking the Harvest- A Cautionary Tale
"Oh it ain't gonna do no harm is it? Make time pass is all!" Pigeon looked around sheepishly as he ducked back out of the drying shed with a fat bud in hand.
"This here ain't your usual ditch weed, Pigeon. Farmer Shaggy been growin' for near thirty years. I reckon you think you been stoned before... well you ain't never smoked nothin' like that what you got there." The grizzled old farmhand shook his head at the rookie. "I been smoking with Shaggy after a hard day in the fields ever since I started working here 'n I still hit the roof with a pinner."
Pigeon scoffed at him then led the way along the muddy track out towards the south field like he had been working on the farm for months.
"Well I 'spose I wont be sharing none with ya then. Wouldn't want ya flying with the crows when y'oughta be cutting the plants down for drying." Pigeon could smell the sweet, skunky stench of the bud in his hand, subtly different to the more earthy aroma of the plants that grew in abundance on either side of the track. He spotted a large fan leaf that had been damaged and begun to dry out and picked it off the plant as they passed. The old hand kept at him, trying to convince him to wait until they were done for the day.
"Look Pigeon, you'll be useless if ya smoke now before we even start. I wont do yer work for ya."
"Don't ruin it for me ye old fart. It'll make the time pass, sooner ya shut up, sooner we get to it. I've smoked and picked hundreds of times at the last farm."
"Don't say I didn't warn you tomorrow neither, Pigeon. Shaggy wont care that you smoked, but he ain't gonna be happy if you cain't work." The older man shook his head again. They had reached the field that was ready for harvesting. Several rows had already been cut and cleared, a gap in the sea of jagged green leaves and orange and purple floweres that surrounded them.
A large tractor with an enormous trailer stood ready to be filled. On most farms a trailer like that was used for hay bales... Not on Shaggy's farm. Pigeon might have worked in the industry before, but he'd never been part of an operation quite like this, and the sunbeaten and windworn man knew it. He threw up his hands and gave up.
"Look, if you gotta learn the hard way then do it. I'm getting started." With that he stepped up to the trailer and pulled a curved saw and roll of landscape tarp from the back. Pigeon sat down and reverently laid the enormous fan leaf flat on his lap. He crumbled some of the enormous bud into the leaf and with obvious expertise began to roll the partially wilted leaf into an enormous blunt.
The experienced picker noticed his skill. well the boy can finally roll so thats somethin'. Let's see how he handles it today though
He had some rolling to do of his own. He turned his attention to the field and with practiced ease sent the landscape tarp unrolling cleanly between the rows of perfect cannabis plants. They had thrived this year. The tops of the flowers towered above his head.
The process was simple, cut the plant near the base of the stem onto the tarp, which would protect it from the ground. The tarp would be used to pull the plants back to the trailer in batches and loaded. The trailer would back into the row vacated by the cut plants. The tarp would be unrolled again and the process repeated until the row was clear. It would only take a few rows to fill the trailer this harvest. The plants were truly enormous.
He quickly got to work and made short work of the first 5 plants. In no time he was covered in sticky residue and the intoxicating scent of marijuana. He paused to check on Pigeon and walked back to the end of the row. It had only been a few minutes.
The boy was nowhere to be seen. The blunt he had been smoking lay smoldering on the side of the track. He picked it up and put it out. It had barely been lit. He sniffed at the end and closed his eyes.
He listened hard, and heard a rustle amongst the plants on the other side of the track... then a loud WHOOP WHOOP!
"Well, least I'll be able to find him when I'm done... Or Shaggy will... and we'll try again tomorrow." The old man muttered to himself then put the blunt in his shirt pocket and shook his head wearily.
"You'd think the boy would know better by week two..."
I hope you enjoyed my brief tale! Art created with Nightcafe! Check out this cycles results for my Pizza Guild Harvest report below ;)
Keep it real Kings, and don't worry about the raid bosses! Arcade Shaggy's got your back ;)