The Mountains Shall Depart

By Robert E. Holzhei

Luke grows up on his family farm in the mid-1940s, mesmerized but confused by the grown-up world around him where work ethic determines one's success and mandatory Sunday worship services puts the fear of God into everyone. When the unexpected occurs and Luke realizes there’s nothing he could have done to prevent it, he leaves his childhood behind and sets off on a spiritual journey to discover his place in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543903607

Book preview

1

The Early Memories

Luke’s first childhood memory of the Old Man he once called daddy was one of amazement and later confusion. His entire life revolved around the family farm as if God planned his destiny. Luke looked up to him. In play with toy tractors Luke prepared his farm on the dining room carpet. He plowed, planted and harvested crops, mimicking the Old Man’s work on the farm. He modeled the tasks this farmer completed in a grown-up world on a family farm. It was a world far away from the world of boyhood dreams and adventures; it became a surreal world. As a young boy, Luke once believed fairy tales could come true!

Luke was mesmerized by the Old Man’s world at times, but puzzled, and early in life he learned when things did not go well. That was his first memory of bad times. When they came, they seemed to last a very long, long time; extending into an endless winter. Although there were some good times, they did not come often. That puzzled Luke. He hoped that when he grew up, he would understand. Writing became a way for Luke to search for an answer.

The Old Man was a farmer. He did what was expected of him as his father had done and his father before him. Farming was a continual waltz with failure and disappointment. The Old Man desperately kept trying to succeed and therein was his fault. One must realize when to step away and move on. The Old Man continued to hope for that one good year which would put him back on his feet. It never came!

Springtime however, was a time of renewal; the rebirth of hope. Luke didn’t remember when things first went wrong; it happened over a period of time. Finally, the unexpected happened and it was a difficult time for Luke. It would haunt him in the later years. The nightmares began and as they continued, Luke searched for an answer. Luke thought about asking the Old Man about it, but it was difficult to talk with him.

Luke wrote of the experience searching for a missing piece of the puzzle. Over the years an answer never came. Luke removed himself from the matter in order to write objectively about it.

In writing, Luke didn’t want to show disrespect nor hurt the Old Man nor the Woman he called mother.

Writing was a way for Luke to alleviate the pain arising from a situation he didn’t understand. The Old Man continued to hang on to a piece of ground that was no longer worth keeping.

The sun’s drought drained the moisture from the ground and from the Old Man. Hope of a good season was washed away in torrential rains, drought, low prices or poor crops.

Writing the fictional story was surreal, it was truer than if it ever happened. The story would symbolize more than the efforts of an Old Man to control his destiny; what happened to the Old Man was happening to farmers across the United States.

I don’t care about it anymore. Hell, no I don’t! stated the Old Man.

Luke looked at him and knew his eyes told a different story.

The Old Man walked away from Luke.

It was a chilly, dark, October night. Luke waited in the pickup truck while the Old Man worked on a plow in the back of an old barn. Machines were always breaking down and needed fixing. Luke got out of the old pickup truck to see if he could help.

Can I help you daddy, asked Luke?

Get the hell away from me! Never be a farmer boy! said the Old Man as he gritted his teeth.

Luke looked into the Old Man’s eyes, they were fixed, angry and distant!

Never be a farmer boy, repeated the Old Man.

I don’t care about the farm anymore, hell no I don’t, repeated the Old Man as if he were trying to convince himself.

Hell, I don’t even miss it anymore, he stated.

However, his eyes twitched and glazed over trying to hide the tears behind the curtain of his eye lids. He shook his head in disbelief.

Luke went back to the pickup truck and looked back at the Old Man hunched over the plow, beating it and cursing. The young boy was confused, did not understand, nor comprehend what was happening; the experience became locked in his memory.

Many winters were very long and it seemed like they would never end. As the story was written, more questions than answers arrived.

In the early years, Luke thought it was all his fault. He wondered how the Old Man could continue to farm land he hated?

The beatings continued. Hopes and dreams that exist in a childhood’s world were shattered. The bad times continued to haunt Luke in his adult life. It was a very, very bad dream, a nightmare! Luke became captive to a past he didn’t deserve.

Writing was like childbirth; the painful moment arrives. After it was all over the words remain, the memory of the experience, and the rest haunts one or is forgotten. The next day brought the promise of hope as the sun also rose each day in the East.

Luke remembered the rich aroma of a newly plowed field of wheat stubble in autumn, and the arrival of dusk. The memory of the John Deere 4010 tractor was vivid. Plowing the ground was symbolic; the top soil was turned over, and buried in a grave which promised a new beginning the following spring.

Over the years’ things didn’t change. Each year brought continued frustrations and setbacks. Luke should have recognized subtle signs that foretold the Old Man’s future.

It was the story of one man as seen through the eyes of a young boy growing up on a family farm. The words family farm was ironic. Luke watched the Old Man plow into the darkness of his night.

Never be a farmer boy, echoed in Luke’s mind.

Luke got back to the pickup before the Old Man began to beat him again. In the early years, Luke thought it was his fault. He wondered how the Old Man could continue to farm land he hated.

Something or somebody was always at fault for the Old Man’s situation. Low prices, yields and mother-nature were to blame. The Old Man never realized he had choices; that’s just the way things were done back then. A man did what he had to do. And when the Old Man had no more to give at the end of a day, he went to bed without supper and collapsed. Luke watched as a broken world unfolded in front of him, as boyhood dreams were shattered. The Old Man became too tired to care anymore.

In the midst of an uncertain world Luke’s childhood was shaped. It was neither a good nor bad time. Everything that happened was the end of the world. Hopes of a brighter tomorrow faded into the darkness of night. Perhaps the Old Man didn’t want to succeed? Flashbacks of the bad memories continued into Luke’s adult life and resurfaced in reoccurring nightmares. Luke felt that he was captive to the Old Man’s past; a past he had little control over.

Perhaps therein was the Old Man’s fault. At some point one must accept defeat, and move on. However, the Old Man could not do that. He kept wishing for that one good year that would put him back on his feet before the farm was lost in bankruptcy. That good year only came a couple of times.

Springtime was a time of renewal. Planting season was always a very busy and stressful time for the Old Man. When planting was completed, there was satisfaction, joy and anticipation.

Luke wasn’t sure if this was a story about the Old Man or his own. He was trying to figure out what went wrong? A piece of the puzzle was missing and Luke was determined to discover the missing piece. The emotional roller coaster ride continued.

Luke couldn’t pinpoint the exact time when things fell apart. It finally happened, and the event haunted Luke for the rest of his life. The nightmares continued and in his dreams Luke searched for an answer, but he awoke before a solution arrived. Luke thought it must be a painful memory to be buried so far back in his mind. Traumatic events are like that. Luke thought about asking the Old Man about it, but it was impossible to talk with him. He even thought about asking the Woman he called mommy, but Luke figured, she probably didn’t want to discuss the matter.

Luke wrote often, hoping the hidden piece of the puzzle would surface. He wrote about it for a very long time. He was chained to a past, he didn’t understand. Finally, after 70 years Luke awoke in the middle of darkness of his night, and words of the story cascaded onto the page like the waters from Niagara Falls.

As he wrote, tears welled up in his eyes, clouded his vision, however they no longer showered down his cheeks. In telling the story he did not wish to show disrespect for the Old Man nor the Woman he called mother.

Writing was Luke’s way to escape inside of himself, and his goal was to reduce the painful memories. The farm was no longer worth keeping. The farm sucked the life out of the Old Man and the hope of springtime was washed away in torrential rains, burned up in the hot summer sun or killed by