Tackett Farmstead 09/23/34
Alice Hallark, Elijah Graham
Coloured Barn, then Near the Farmhouse

Alice swiped another sheet off the dilapidated bed energetically. [color=#93f9cf]”Better than whatever ol’ Tackett gives them I’m sure,”[/color] she responded wryly. The chefs at the farmhouse were gifted in their own right, but feeding half a hundred men with whatever they had left in stock from previous harvests or traded in from the markets was no easy feat. That said, Alice grew up on Louisiana gumbo, dirty rice, Jambalaya and more Beignets than she could ever hope for thanks to her uncle’s patients and the folk up in Jacksonville. Unfortunately, vegetable stew just paled in comparison against such a diverse menu. [color=#93f9cf]”Nobody never tells me where they manage to find the ingredients - definitely not from round here, that’s for sure.”[/color] A plume of dust filtered through the barn as Alice ruefully thought about good, proper food as she dutifully went around her daily chores.

She certainly did not shirk away from the labour but this was most likely because it was not the worst part of doing the laundry. Not every farmhand on the ranch had the best sense of personal hygiene, and she pointedly ignored the smell of sweat and testosterone whilst she was taking in the linens. No, it looked like she was quite content to spend her time fluffing the pillows and turning the mattresses too, if only to stave off having to lug the pails of hot water into that steel washing tub and get to work rubbing her fingers raw. [color=#93f9cf]”Hold up there bud, lemme at those bedsheets before you start swingin’,”[/color] chirped Alice lightheartedly, flashing Stumps a quick smile as she got to his bunk. It was not the first time she walked in on one of Joseph’s workout sessions, of course; she was one of the most mobile farmhouse workers on the property. Most of her colleagues were quite content to shut themselves off from the rest of the world in that sterile mansion but Alice could be seen flitting back and forth from the barns doing the cleaning and tidying around there. Of course, given her shorter skirt (purely for [i]practical[/i] reasons, she claims) and her insistence on talking to all of the men with that full face of makeup, Alice had started to gain herself a bit of a...dubious reputation. Whether she was aware of it was another question entirely. Her conversations seemed too innocuous to carry any innuendoes but the fact she kept lurking around the men was enough to spark the rumour mill.

Nevertheless, if Alice was looking for anything specific from ol’ Stumps or Leo (who had busied himself playing solitaire on one of the rickety tables) then she was certainly not trying hard enough. [color=#93f9cf]”I’m definitely gonna have to pull out the wool blankets in a couple weeks. It’s starting to get real cold at night and your walls are starting to look more like a sieve. Anyway,”[/color] Alice stretched back, clasping her hands together as she cracked her back. [color=#93f9cf]”That’s me sorted out here. You two have a nice day off now, I’ll be back in a few with the fresh linens!”[/color] With a polite nod Alice heaved up the basket, which was now overflowing with piles of yellowed, reeking cloths. She was so petite that her head barely peeked over the top as she scooped her arms underneath the basket to get a better grip.

Even little Alice knew better than to mix the coloured and the whites’ belongings together when it came to the laundry, which meant she had to do two sets of washing in one day. She left the basket out by the porch, tucked at the side as she carefully wiped down her shoes before entering the household. Once she was there, she scurried down to the boiler room, squeezing between the tense bodies of a half-dozen sweaty women who were hard at work cleaning tablecloths, tea towels, napkins, shirts...the room was far too occupied to bring in billowing bedsheets and hope to make a solid job out of the whole thing. She grabbed a box of starchy fabric soap and one of the steel washtubs, trying to bustle her way back outside. Unfortunately, she managed to clip one of the older women with the edge of the tub - lightly, of course - and immediately got the venomous response for her clumsiness. “There you are, Alice. Done playing with the niggers? Because we’ve got a few more jobs for you if you deign to spare us a moment…”

[color=#93f9cf]”No, I’m not done. I’m doing both barns on my own today, my treat,”[/color] Alice replied warmly. As she reached the narrow stairway up to the ground floor, she muttered [color=#93f9cf]”By the way, you’re meant to hold a broom with your hands, not shove it clear up your arse...”[/color] one of the girls let loose a snorting chuckle, catching Alice’s complaint as she disappeared out of the washroom. Bad news for her; that meant when she went down for the water, the whole team would know what she said. But that was just how it was when you’re lodging with a triade of overworked, underpaid and cranky girls. You had to find an outlet somewhere and the only alternatives were your boss or a bunch of six-foot gorillas. She set the washtub outside on the sandy grit, dumped the linens inside and went back down into the washroom where she made note of how conversation went stale the moment she entered the room.

The next twenty or so minutes involved a rather monotonous routine of pouring buckets of boiling water into a tub, sprinkling soap over the sodden mass of filthy sheets and then miserably grating them against a steel washboard whilst staring blankly into space. Alice hated her job. She truly, utterly despised it. She was no stranger to housework; back home, Alice was in charge of all of the chores whilst her uncle worked. What truly broke Alice here was the relentlessness of it all, the ceaseless mountain of work that she had to finish all day, every day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Back home, she was done by noon and could read, or go fishing, wander off to the park or get some ice cream with her friends. Here, work typically finished after dinner, once all of the dishes had been washed and put away. By the time that blessed hour rolled past Alice was so exhausted that she could barely bring herself to do much other than a chapter or two from her latest novel before collapsing into bed. She had aches in muscles she never knew existed. Her feet were swollen and her heels were cracking because of those devious flimsy mary-janes that she had to wear, making each pebble and rock painfully dig into the soles of her feet, allowing grit and dirt to seep over the edges and scrape into the blisters across her toes. She could feel all of the work getting to her, the onset of a cold that has been lurking this past fortnight in the depths of her body, constantly pushed back with second helpings of soup for lunch and as much sleep as Alice could muster. She knew she would not be able to keep this pace going for much longer. The other girls in the washroom probably knew it too. 

Coincidentally, Elijah was taking a stroll and soaking up the sunday sun on his way to commencing checkups on some of the recently treated and healing. Squinting against the sunlight he leisurely directed his route to pass by Alice who was sat nearby the farmhouse going about her duties. [color=6096a4]“Pumpkin’”[/color] he voiced out, aiming to catch her attention. Alice lifted her head up at the nickname and waved a reddish hand to her uncle. She did not rise to greet him, too preoccupied with the laborious task set before her.

[color=6096a4]“Long sunday ahead?”[/color] he stood straight, squinting against the sunlight.

[color=#93f9cf]”As per usual,”[/color] Alice responded lightheartedly. [color=#93f9cf]”Sometimes I wonder if I could pull the whole ‘Catholic’ shtick, but something tells me Mr. Tackett don’t believe in God anymore.”[/color] she went back to her scrubbing with a renewed vigour, seemingly frustrated over something. The water was already turning cloudy with muck.

[color=6096a4]“Sometimes I wonder if maybe you shoulda’ picked a better profession.”[/color] he stared at her, a shit eating grin slowly creeping up on his face.

Alice dropped the linens and gave her uncle a frosty stare. [color=#93f9cf]”What, you mean like a receptionist? Plenty of job openings for a secretary out here in Cypress Hollows, huh? Or d’ya want me to get into the oldest profession? I bet that could bring in money. Shall I become a [i]whore[/i], uncle?”[/color] she went a little pinker as her tone of voice went sharper and louder before, realising that it wasn’t worth the effort, she sighed miserably and scrubbed at the sheets once more. [color=#93f9cf]”Ain’t no other place for a woman on a farm and you know that,”[/color] she mumbled.

[color=6096a4]“Alright, alright, quit whingin’.”[/color] he kept smiling, letting a few seconds of silence linger in the air as he seemed to be contemplating something, [color=6096a4]“I can always tell ‘em I need your extra hand at the infirmary. It’s still work, but it’s a lot less laboursome’.”[/color]

[color=#93f9cf]”It wouldn’t work…”[/color] Alice mumbled. [color=#93f9cf]”You barely got stuff to do as it is. And I’ve been serving that family for a few weeks now, they’re very-....traditional-”[/color]

[color=6096a4]“American?”[/color] he chuckled over her, mainly to himself.

[color=#93f9cf]”White American, yeah,”[/color] 

[color=6096a4]“We’ll survive, sweetheart. Times change, we’ll be back home in no time.”[/color] he turned to look over at the barns which reminded him of the remainder of his duties. [color=6096a4]“I’m on my way to check up on a few people, i’d like have a look at you too later. All this time under the sun and you’re only gettin’ paler, I worry.”[/color]

[color=#93f9cf]”It’s the food, definitely. It’s so bland I feel like I’m drinking dirt. This [i]tub[/i], full of pee and ballsweat, probably has more spice in it than lunch here. Ugh, this is disgusting…”[/color] lamented Alice, peering down at the filthy water. She pondered over it for a moment before attempting to flick some at Elijah. 

Elijah recoiled, stumbling away as droplets rained down on him: [color=6096a4]“Gawh! Wretched-... watch it you!”[/color] he yelled, face contorted in disgust. The mood now dampened, literally, Elijah ignored Alice to continue on his way to the barn for his checkups. Alice’s peals of laughter rung out across the yard, echoing down to meet him as he stormed off. Then she went back to washing.