The fresh breeze, the constant ticking of the truck radiator under the hot burning sun, the constant wrack of nerves if they were going to get enough food for not. That was weeks of a migrant’s life going to California in hopes for a better life.
Johnny Marks drove his family car down Route 66. He had previously had a job as a car mechanic which helped out with car troubles. The only trouble was the cash they had was slowly running dry. Johnny sat in the front seat with his Pop and his Uncle Runey. In the bed of the truck was his Ma, his three sisters Lacey, Willow, and Tessa, his aunt Cass, and his nephew Lester.
His Pop and his Uncle Runey were both itching to find a camp to settle down, find work. The womenfolk all wanted food to feed their family. It was all different.
Johnny wanted something different. He knew it was silly, he shouldn’t want for something so… unnecessary during a time of famine. He wanted a girlfriend, one that could put up with him but still love him. He wanted a fierce, confident girl.
Pop glanced out the window and squinted, seeing something in the distance. “Now hol’ on boy. Drive real slow so ya can check this here place out. We might be able ta stay here for a little while, let Ma and the girls sleep on some mattresses.”
Johnny sighed and pulled over. “Pop, this here a camp. Do ya think it’s a migrant camp?” He got out of the car. She wiped a toned forearm across his forehead, the sweat shining against his tanned skin. He was a good looking man, strong and very well built, a nice facial shape, and a shape jawline.
Pop and Uncle Runey got out and walked away to go figure things out with camp managers. Johnny walked to the back of the truck, “how’s ev’ryone doin’ back here?”
Ma fixed his hair and nodded calmly. “We’re all doin’ jus’ fine back here boy. Don’t you start worryin’ ‘bout us. I’ve got ev’ryone togethe’.”
His sisters nodded and went back to dreaming, all three of them laying down and staring at the sun. His aunt and nephew sat next to his Ma, quiet and sullen.
A while later they had settled into the migrant camp, the whole family overjoyed with the amount of amenities they got like bath water and good food.
The next day, the men set off to find work.
Johnny wandered down the road when he heard voices. Two men by a big house were looking at him. “Hey! You! Come o’er her boy. You lookin’ fer work?”
Johnny rushed over and nodded, “yes sir. I can do work and I do work good. I can farm an’ I can swing an ax if I need to.”
The richer looking man studied him. “He’s a good brawn. Got great arms kid. How’s about you work for us in the farms and pick peppers. You’ll make ‘bout ninety cents per big bag of peppers.”
Johnny nodded and shook his hand, “thank you sir.” He started off towards the fields. However, he froze.
He had seen you.
You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, a soft cotton dress with a braid in her hair. You were the owner’s daughter, as shown by your silver spurred boots.
You saw him and stopped getting water from the pump. Your eyelashes fluttered and you gave a small smile.
He blushed and his lips pursed into a thin line of embarrassment. You giggled, and he swore his heart skipped a beat.
”Are ya a new hire?” You said sweetly. Your eyes were a soft gray, drawing him in beyond saving.
”I-I’m Johnny Marks… ma’am,” he said softly. You were so pretty, but he was a migrant worker living at a migrant camp. You’d never be committed to a man like him.