At the center of sprawling fields, the drone of cicadas and soft thunk of blades hitting
ripened crops go on in a ceaseless repetition. As the unforgiving sun bears down, it feels as
though my skin might crack and shrivel in imitation of the small tufts of grass growing
throughout the field. Sweat has already soaked through my clothes, even though the day is
nowhere close to being finished. I tip up the water flask to my lips, but all I feel is a small drop
on my parched tongue. I’m tempted to go back to the tent for more, but I don’t have time to spare.
Any time not spent picking is time wasted, money lost. I’m sure everyone around me has the
same thought because no one ever stops to take a break. Not unless they’re on the verge of
collapse. No one can afford it.
We are at the fields’ command. As we kneel in the dirt, it is almost as though we are
bowing down to it. As I work, I become rooted to the ground. Small, crumbly clumps of dirt dig
into my knees and rub them raw through my worn out jeans. After hours spent bending over the
plants, my body begins to ache. Shifting even the slightest sends red hot pain shooting to every
nerve, as though I am not meant to do anything other than this. Maybe I’m not. Maybe it is
because our lives are tied to this field. We are at its mercy every day in the unbearable heat,
clinging to the hope that one day we will leave this place and never return.
The day each of us first set foot on the lush field, she claimed us. We now bear her mark.
From the irremovable patches of dirt on our bodies, to the never-ending aches in our backs and
calluses on our hands. These scars will not fade. Even if we managed to get far, far away, she
would always be a dark echo in the back of our minds.
I was told that this is the place where people like me can achieve what they could only
dream of back home. So, what happened to the dream I had in mind when I came here? Was it
just some foolish fantasy? The longer I’m here, the more I realize that I came in hope of bringing
purpose to my life, but instead, it seems to be slowly leeching away.