Summer's Wave

It was Monday on the plantation and sometime in the middle of August. Benson leaned back and slowly packed the pipe his father had made for him. He watched the dark, erect mounds slowly heave up and down, rising slower with each breath. Their bodies were soaked in the same sweat.
“Do you love me like you wanna marry me?” Betty said. She felt her self and felt her insides still quiver. “You know, I was almost there.”
Benson looked over towards the barn. “I reckon you oughta put your clothes back on.” he said, tapping the last pinch of tobacco down with a careful delicacy.
He made a cup with his hand around the bulb of the pipe, struck a match against a rock and took a few draws. Betty watched as his cheeks hollowed with each puff. There was always something about that pipe that held her when it was in his hands. It was the way they seemed to love cradling it. The way it rested between his forefinger and thumb, the mouth of the pipe jutting out towards his wrist. But lately, it was the warmth inside it that drew her.
“You got maybe some of that special leaf in there this time?” Her eyes were reading into his. She pressed down on herself harder and it made her gasp a little.
“You just gonna keep going there?” Benson asked. He followed the curve of her body down and licked his lips watching her fingers work. The sun disappeared for a moment and the hay bales rustled in the wind. He snapped out of his daze.
“The rest of the hands be coming through here soon,” he demanded. It was bad enough to slack off taking a pipe. He could still hear the slash through the air from the last time he got caught. He imagined taking a naked woman midday would be somewhat worse.
“Well, I don’t know how many more chances I’m gonna get,” Betty said. She was becoming a little too indignant for his tastes. She stared at the sky and saw the dark clouds over head. She let her arms finally rest beside her and heaved a sigh.
“Do you love me?” She said.
“What’s it matter?” He said and took a long draw.
Betty watched the center growing red hot. She leaned over and picked up her dress, looking at its tatters. She sat up while Benson looked around apprehensively and slid it over her head, letting it glide over her breasts. Standing finally, she kept the skirt hiked around her waist and wiped the dirt softly from her ass cheeks. She inspected them to see it was a job well done. Then she let the dress fall slowly its full length down below her kness.
She turned and faced him. “Do you love me or not?”
“They’re coming by now. Git out of here,” he hissed.
Benson glanced around the bale and saw Joe making purposeful progress. Betty never took her eyes off him. Tears fought to be freed as she placed a hand over her chest, letting it slowly sink down. She was past words. Benson made a jerking motion with his head as Joe approached, but it was too late.
“What we got going on here?” Joe said.
Benson tried to stammer but Joe cut him off with a dismissing hand. He looked over at Betty and saw the clear light in her streaming eyes. They turned a cloudy grey as the sun disappeared and then saw a look in them that reminded him somewhat of tumble weed. Betty placed her hands at the collar of her dress and grasped it firmly. She let her eyes run slowly between the two. The others were approaching. Betty ignored them and looked back over at Benson. She slowly tore her dress from top to bottom and let it slide back off her shoulders. Both the man and boy stood with mouths agape. There were a few chuckles from the hands. Benson saw a look in her that read hatred and then he watched as it faded like the hiss off a distant waterfall. Betty turned. She thrust her shoulders back and walked slowly towards the road.