The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [36]
Chapter 9
Water, the Free and Dangerous Kind
The New Mexico state flower is the yucca. A yucca probably has more in common with a cactus than it does with an everyday flower. It grows long, needle-sharp leaves that stick out like a porcupine's quills. From the middle of these a tall stem grows, decorated with yellow petals.
When you grow up in New Mexico, just like the yucca, you rarely have access to much water. If left alone, most of the land would look like our plot of desolation—dirt, rocks, and tough weeds. You start seeing the world in browns and reds.
The area surrounding our house was mostly those colors except right near the front door. My mom had planted a little patch of grass she called her "touch of civilization." It was only about fifteen by fifteen square feet, but my dad wouldn't let it get any bigger because it had to be watered with city water that came from the tap. We were repeatedly reminded 'that they charged by the gallon for that stuff'.
Not all of the area around Farmington was desolate. The San Juan River brought some of it to life. People had been irrigating for decades by pulling water out of the river with canals. Wide swaths of the valley between the river's plateaus were green with fields of alfalfa, beans, and corn.
The nearest canal to our house was on the opposite side of the road that led to Farmington—State Highway 550. One thing the library's apple book had made clear was that an apple tree needed lots of water. I knew that Mr. Nelson must have used water from that canal if he had ever gotten anything to grow, but I had no idea how he'd done it. In fact, since I could walk, I had always been warned to stay away from the canal. In my mother's eyes, it was nothing but a baby killer that could sweep away and drown her kids.
As the weather grew warmer, I knew we had to get some serious water on the trees. This meant figuring out the canal and irrigation. I went through my usual progression of adult advisors.
Mrs. Nelson simply said, "I know my husband used to go across the road to turn the water on. He used to always wear big rubber boots and take a shovel."
My dad said, "If you can figure it out, let me know 'cause I'd like to use some on this yard. Something besides these weeds might class things up a little."
***
Again I found myself in Sunday school staring at Brother Brown. After the close call with the blossoms, our joint worrying had brought us together somehow. At least I felt that way about him. It was still unclear how he felt about me.
I cornered him after class, blocking his way to the door. "So how are your trees doing?" I began.
"Fine," he answered, trying not to look at me.
"Brother Brown, when is it time to start watering them? You know, with irrigation?"
He seemed a bit amused. "Is there water in the canal?"
"Ummm, I don't know."
"Well, you can't water without water."
"When there's water in it, do you think I could come watch you, you know, irrigate?"
He thought about this a long time. "We'll see when there's water."
I thought that sounded pretty hopeful. A "we'll see" was getting pretty close to a "maybe," and with my dad at least, that wasn't far from an "okay."
***
After school the next day, I jumped off the bus and announced to everyone, "I'm going over to check the canal. Who wants to come with me?"
Sam's and Michael's eyebrows went up. Lisa's eyebrows went down. Amy kept walking toward home. After assuring Lisa that we were on official orchard business and she shouldn't tell Mom, Sam, Michael, and I dodged traffic and crossed the road.
We climbed the embankment that hid the canal. The canal banks were thickly crowded with little trees and weeds, so it was hard to