In the country stretching away north beyond the fringe of small berry
farms lying directly about town, were other and larger farms. The land
that made up these larger farms was also rich and raised big crops.
Great stretches of it were planted to cabbage for which a market had
been built up in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. Bidwell was
often in derision called Cabbageville by the citizens of nearby towns.
One of the largest of the cabbage farms belonged to a man named Ezra
French, and was situated on Turner's Pike, two miles from town and a
mile beyond the Wheeling station.
On spring evenings when it was dark and silent about the station
and when the air was heavy with the smell of new growth and of land
fresh-turned by the plow, Hugh got out of his chair in the telegraph
office and walked in the soft darkness. He went along Turner's Pike to
town, saw groups of men standing on the sidewalks before the stores and
young girls walking arm in arm along the street, and then came back to
the silent station. Into his long and habitually cold body the warmth
of desire began to creep. The spring rains came and soft winds blew down
from the hill country to the south. One evening when the moon shone he
went around the old pickle factory to where the creek went chattering
under leaning willow trees, and as he stood in the heavy shadows by the
factory wall, tried to imagine himself as one who had become suddenly
clean-limbed, graceful, and agile. A bush grew beside the stream near
the factory and he took hold of it with his powerful hands and tore it
out by the roots. For a moment the strength in his shoulders and arms
gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. He thought of how powerfully
he could hold the body of a woman against his body and the spark of the
fires of spring that had touched him became a flame. He felt new-made
and tried to leap lightly and gracefully across the stream, but stumbled
and fell in the water. Later he went soberly back to the station and
tried again to lose himself in the study of the problems he had found in
his books.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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