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A Novel
by Marina Lewycka
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But they didn’t. Instead, a pudgy red-faced man wearing dirty clothes and
rubber boots came out of the house - the farmer, I guessed - and he helped me out
of Vulk’s vehicle, mumbling something I couldn’t understand, but it was
obviously not an invitation to tea. He looked me up and down in that same rude
way, as though I were a horse he’d just bought. Then he and Vulk muttered to
each other, too fast for me to follow, and exchanged envelopes.
"Bye-bye, little flovver," Vulk said, with that chip-fat smile. "Ve meet again.
Maybe ve mekka possibility?"
"Maybe."
I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but by then I was just desperate to get
away.
The farmer shoved my bag into his Land Rover and then he shoved me in too,
giving my behind a good feel with his hand as he did so, which was quite
unnecessary. He only had to ask and I would have climbed in by myself.
"I’ll take you straight out to the field," he said, as we rattled along narrow
winding lanes. "You can start picking this afternoon."
After some five kilometers, the Land Rover swung in through the gate, and I felt
a rush of relief as at last I planted my feet on firm ground. The first thing I
noticed was the light - the dazzling salty light dancing on the sunny field, the
ripening strawberries, the little rounded trailer perched up on the hill and the
oblong boxy trailer down in the corner of the field, the woods beyond, and the
long, curving horizon, and I smiled to myself. So this is England.
• • •
The men’s trailer is a static model, a battered old fiberglass box parked at the
bottom of the field by the gate, close to a new prefab building where the
strawberries are crated and weighed each day. Stuck onto one corner of the
prefab is the toilet and shower room - though the shower doesn’t work and the
toilet is locked at night. Why is it locked? wonders Andriy. What is the problem
with using the toilet at night?
He has woken early with a full bladder and an unspecific feeling of
dissatisfaction with himself, his trailer mates, and trailer life in general.
Why is it, for example, that although the men’s trailer is bigger, it still
feels more cramped than the women’s trailer? It has two rooms - one for sleeping
and one for sitting - but Tomasz has the double bed in the sleeping room all to
himself and three of them are sleeping in the sitting room. How has this
happened? Andriy has one of the seat-beds and Vitaly has the other. Emanuel
has made himself a hammock from an old sheet and blue bale twine, skillfully
twisted and knotted, and slung it across the sitting room from corner to
corner. He is lying there breathing deeply with his eyes closed and a cherubic
smile on his round brown face. Andriy recalls Emanuel’s look of astonishment and
horror when the farmer suggested he should share the double bed with Tomasz.
"Sir, we have a proverb in Chichewa. One nostril is too small for two fingers."
Afterward, he took Andriy to one side and whispered, "In my country
homosexualization is forbidden."
"Is okay," Andriy whispered back. "No homosex, only bad stink."
Yes, Tomasz’s sneakers are another insult - their stink fills the trailer. It is
worst at night when the sneakers are on his feet and stowed beneath the bed. The
fumes rise, noxious and clinging, and dissipate like bad dreams, seeping through
the curtain that divides the bedroom from the sitting room, hovering below the
ceiling like an evil spirit. Sometimes, in the night, Emanuel rolls silently out
of his hammock and places the sneakers outside on the step.
Another thing - why are there no pictures on the walls in the men’s trailer?
Vitaly keeps a picture of Jordan under his bed, which he says he will stick up
when he finds something to stick it with. He also keeps a secret stash of canned
lager and a pair of binoculars. Tomasz keeps a guitar and a pair of Yola’s
panties under his bed. Emanuel keeps a bag full of crumpled papers.
Excerpted from Strawberry Fields by Marina Lewycka Copyright © 2007 by Marina Lewycka. Excerpted by permission of Penguin Group USA, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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