The Cherry Harvest Read Free

subs, telling ’em how it is.”
    Ole appeared frightened. “Nazis are trained solders, and we’re the enemy. They’ll escape—”
    â€œWhere they gonna escape to? They don’t even speak English, for God’s sake,” Ralph said.
    Bo looked to the growers. “What else you got?”
    â€œWe got nothin’ else.” Artie nodded toward Thomas. “I like what he says.”
    â€œYeah. I say put ’em to work.” Ralph stood, hands clasping the straps of his overalls. “They owe us.”
    Growers’ voices rose in agreement until Bo banged his gavel. “Quiet. One at a time.”
    Thomas spoke up. “Our son, Benjamin, is serving with Clark’s Fifth Army in Italy now. As you can imagine, we hate those Nazis as much as any of you.”
    Charlotte rose beside him. At five-foot-ten, her height was an advantage when dealing with men. “We worry about our boys overseas, but we have nothing to feed our families here at home.” She herself wondered over the consequences of the plan, but she wasn’t going to let her doubts show, not with the family farm at stake.“Time, that’s our worst enemy. And these prisoners, they’re the only way we can get our crops in before we lose another year.”
    â€œWhere’re they gonna stay?” Ole demanded.
    â€œWe have a migrant worker camp,” Charlotte said. “Enough for fifteen, maybe twenty men on our property.”
    Thomas nodded.
    â€œI have a camp too,” Ralph shouted.
    â€œPut the sonsabitches to work,” one of the growers called out. “Labor’s labor.”
    The sheriff cleared his throat before speaking. “What do we do to get these PWs here?”
    â€œIt’s all in the letter,” Thomas said. “We petition the Army for however many men we need. They bring guards in with the workers. We give the Army the workers’ pay. But we can delay payment until after the harvest.”
    â€œYou saying the Army’s going to pay the damn Nazis?” Mike said.
    â€œThey’ll be sitting in the back of the movie house,” Ole said. “With our girls.”
    Thomas shook his head. “The Army’ll pay them in scrip, only good in the commissary. They won’t be buying any movie tickets.”
    Pastor Duncan cleared his throat and after a few moments of silence began. “I know the pain this community is suffering. I sit with families who’ve lost their men and boys. I see farms and businesses going under. Forgive your enemies, Christ teaches. These prisoners, we must forgive them.”
    â€œYou gotta be kidding!” Mike shouted.
    The sheriff started to stand, but when Mike scowled he resumed his seat. “I move we vote,” Mike said.
    The growers rose, cheering.
    â€œI second the motion,” Bo said. “But only board members.”
    Amid the grumbling that followed, Bo brought down the gavel. “All in favor of petitioning the Army for prisoners of war to work the farms, raise a hand.”
    Charlotte watched as Pastor Duncan’s hand went up, then the sheriff’s. A few men who hadn’t spoken raised tentative hands. Mike sat rigid, his face smug.
    The room grew quiet until Bo shouted out the verdict: “Four in favor, five against.”
    â€œThen what are you going to do for us?” Artie jumped up.
    â€œCherries is what makes this county,” Ralph yelled.
    Charlotte stood again and faced the board. “If we don’t have a harvest, we won’t be buying at your stores.” As the growers mumbled their assent, she realized that her voice was the strongest in the room. The men at the table had nothing to offer but fear. “You businessmen are wealthy now because of the shipyard. But once this war’s over, if the orchards are gone, the tourists won’t be back. And there won’t be any growers either. What are you going to do then?” The room went