August 1, 2014--Best of Behind: Midcoast--Cutting Back

This is from September 17, 2010. I thought about it because we are entering eggplant season here on the midcoast of Maine. 

“See what’s going on over there?” We were at Rose’s Farm Stand up near Thomaston and she was pointing at something across the road.

“I’m not following where you’re pointing,” I said, squinting into the sun. It was a perfect end-of-summer day. The air recently washed by a quick shower which produced such clarity that I wished I could paint or draw. It was not surprising why so many artists have been attracted to the coast of Maine.

“That tree,” Rose said still pointing, “The big maple. Look how wide around it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s 200 years old.”

“Really?” Rona said. “I had no idea they got that old.”

“And then some,” Rose said.

“But I still don’t see what you’re getting at,” I said. And with that a massive limb came thundering to the ground.

“That’s what,” Rose said with a snarl.

“What’s going on over there?” Rona asked.

“That’s what I’m getting at,” Rose said. “That old bitch—forgive my French--who bought that house right next to it is having it cut down.”

“For what reason? It looks healthy enough to me.”

“See that field over there?” She pointed then at a plot of land adjacent to the house. “Well, there were three other big trees there. Must have been 150 years old, the two of them.”

“I don’t see any trees over there,” I said.

“My point exactly. There were two there and she had 'em cut down. Now she’s got a big old lawn but no trees. Must be doin' the same thing with the maple. ’For you know it, there won’t be any trees left ‘round here. Or anywhere for that matter.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” Rona said. “That would be very sad. It’s so beautiful here and the trees are a big part of that.”

“Well, if the storms don’t git ‘em people like her will. I don’t know what’s wrong with ‘em. And I know what you’re thinkin’, that the owner over there is new to the area and she wants to ‘improve’ things. Which is not the case. Her family’s been here for as long as that tree. And when I talk about people new to the area present company is excluded. I know you two well enough by this time to suspect that’d you’d never do a thing like that. Quite the opposite. I’ll bet by now you’ve joined every conservation group in the state.” She broke into a broad grin.

“Not exactly all,” Rona said, "but by this time next year you may be right.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Rose said. “In fact, my Lewis and me, if we had the means, would do the very same thing.” 

I nodded. We had come to buy some eggplant and onions right out of her field for a vegetable lasagna we were planning for dinner. Rose’s eggplants are the best I’ve ever had.

“Speaking about ‘means,’” Rose said, “Guess how much she is payin’ to have that done. Removing the maple, I mean.” She paused for a beat then quickly continued, “You’ll never guess but I hear at least twenty-two hundred.”

“Wow,” Rona said, “But it is a big tree.”

“Which is my point—a tree like that deserves to live. If anything, she’s the one who should be removed!” She doubled over with laughter, coughing up cigarette smoke. “Gotta stop these before they kill me.” That made her laugh and cough even harder and I was concerned that she might pass out from choking and lack of oxygen.

“On the other hand,” Rose resumed after catching her breath, “I s’pose work is work and twenty-two hundred isn’t to be sneezed at.” With that, again from the smoke, she sneezed three quick times. “Not that that justifies what she’s doin’, but those tree guys can sure use the work and the money.” She paused, “And frankly so can we.” 

Rona was nodding compassionately. “My Lewis, he works construction. He’s an electrician and there’s not much these day for him to do. He’s lucky enough to be finishing a job now on a new house but his boss says there’s nothing waitin’ in the pipeline. So we’re strugglin’. Lot’s of folks can’t pay their taxes. Tomorrow’s tax day here. Real estate taxes are due then.”

I began to interrupt and Rona poked me as she knew I was going to say that we had paid ours early at Town Hall last week. To avoid the lines. I appreciated the poke as it for sure was what I awkwardly was about to say could rightly have been seen as insensitive. We are very fortunate indeed to feel as financially secure as we do.

“Like I was sayin’, lot’s of people, Lewis and me included, are having trouble keeping up with our payments. I know it’s going on all over but it doesn’t make it feel any better here. We’re thankful to have folks like you around who can afford to pay a premium for our corn and tomatoes. And of course our eggplants.” She winked at me.

“Well we . . .” I stammered.

“No need to be getting all guilty on my behalf,” Rose said reassuringly, “I meant that as a genuine thanks. I don’t know what we’d do if we didn’t have this.” Her gesture took in the entire little shop where she sold her remarkable veggies. “Probably have to live in our van.”

“I hope . . .” Rona this time stammered.

“I’m bein’ lit’ral with you. Things are that bad.” We both lowered our heads slightly and broke off eye contact. In spite of Rose’s dispensation we were feeling guilty about our relative secure situation.

“We’ve had to do a lot of cuttin’ back. As we sensed things getting’ bad, more than a year ago, we began to pull back. At first we had enough extra cash to do a few fun things. Like come home from work Fridays and get all spiffed up and go out for a nice dinner. But we cut that out more than a year ago.”

“That sounds . . .” I said without looking up.

“. . . about right,” Rose put a finish on my interrupted sentence. “That’s what we did and I’m sure glad we did. ‘Cause now we’d have no choice but to cut back on even more things. You know we both work hard—two, three jobs if we can fine ‘em.” We both raised our heads at the same time and took to nodding at Rose with as much respect and understanding as we could generate.

“Why not more than six months ago when money became even more scarce, we stopped eatin’ breakfast out on Sundays. We really enjoyed that but had no choice. It was either that or maybe lose the house. We’re playin' things that close to the margins.”

“That sounds . . . well, I mean, what you and Lewis are doing . . . if there is no choice, I mean . . .” Again I could not complete a coherent sentence.

“I ‘preciate what you’re sayin’. I know you folks are doing as well as can be expected in these times. I don’t have any bad feelings about that. I really don’t. You’d be the first to know if I did! I know you worked hard and all that. And you deserve what you got.”

“Thanks but we . . .” Rona was no better at finishing her thoughts than I.

“Look, we have to keep on goin'. In life I mean. With whatever it is that we have or don’t have. It’s not about that, I’m sure you’ll agree. The most important thing we have is life itself and we have to make the most of it, whatever else we’re lucky enough to have or what gets dealt us.”

“We try to think that way and live accordingly,” Rona said. I was still struggling with the image of Rose and Lewis having to live in their van.

“So maybe after all that bitch is doin' her part to make things work. Don’t get me wrong, what’s she’s doin' to her trees is a crime. Or at least it should be. But maybe if she is spendin' as much as I think on the job, and what with those other trees I told you about, well she is doing some good in the process.”

“Do you really . . ?”

“I’m trying to put the best spin on what’s happenin’ over there.” The chain saws had resumed their high-pitched whine and more huge limbs were plummeting to the ground. The massive tree was by then a forlorn shadow of its former majestic self, more like a tree for hanging people than shading them. 

“As a result maybe at least one less family will have to live in their car.” She sighed and we were left to contemplate our own fortunate reality and to figure out what to make of the larger picture she had sketched.

“So what can I do for you today?” Rose was again her old chipper self. “Did I hear vegetable lasagna? I love that. You want a couple of my eggplants? I could have misheard you what with them damn chainsaws and all.”