Barely distinguishable from the surrounding leaves, the gossamer wings of two Praying Mantises fluttered violently, battling to the death. As the silent war waged on, the leaf crumpled, and the female Mantis lost her death grip on her mate. She fell, landing soundlessly on the blanket where a toddler lay sleeping beneath vines hanging heavy with hops.
In the distance, women stripped oval hops from vines pulled from 12- feet-high wires and dropped them into long cloth bags hanging from their shoulders. Gradually more and more of the stripped vines lay barren and trampled in the pathway. Large naked wires hovered overhead. In the spring, rows of new plants would grow, twisting round the wires, reaching skyward toward the nourishing sun and rain until they blossomed and produced fruit. Then would come the harvest and the cycle would begin again.
Mary halted her work and checked her watch. She dropped her bag and ran to the blanket where her sleeping toddler lay in the shade of the hop vines. Unaware of the recent battle overhead, she flicked the Praying Mantis off the blanket, opened a basket and removed a diaper, changed the baby, pulled up her coveralls and buckled the straps.
Before the attack on Pearl Harbor, she would never have believed she would be working in a hop field, leaving her baby unattended. Her small paycheck was necessary to supplement her husband’s military check for dependents. She agreed to the back- breaking work of picking hops because she was able to bring the toddler to the field.
Conscious of the time lost tending the baby, Mary covered the child with a light quilt and checked the direction of the sun. The child’s blanket would remain in the shade for at least another hour. She kissed her forehead and ran back through the stripped vines where she had left her half- filled cloth bag.
Her companions had moved somewhat ahead, leaving her alone in the center of the field. She pulled the headscarf from her head, wiped her brow, and refastened the heavy bag to her shoulder.
Mary could hear the girls’ exaggerated tales that bore only the faintest resemblance to the truth. Peals of laughter filled the air, as the stories became more provocative. The foreman weighed bags of hops and recorded the weights beside each woman’s name. The numbers were totaled weekly, paying a few cents for each pound of hops picked.
The smell of stale cigarette smoke warned Mary of the foreman's approach, probably coming to fuss about falling behind the other girls' production. They didn’t have to stop every 20 minutes to run and check on a baby. The foreman approached, sucking on the stub of his cigarette.
"You’ll have to keep up with the others. If that baby makes you fall behind, you won’t be able to bring her out here,” he growled. "I don’t want to come off like an ogre, but we’re on a time frame. The crop has to be in within three weeks or the hops will rot. If you can’t keep up, I’ll have to get someone who can. But since Lilly’s gone, I’ll let it go today. Work faster, will ya'?” He tossed the cigarette and with the ball of his foot, ground it into the tangle of vines.
Mary turned to her task and pulled hops from the hanging vines and stuffed them into the sack. When she had stripped all the hops within reach, she pulled, and the vines tumbled down. She felt a stab of pain in her back and shoulders as she leaned over to glean the remaining hops on the ground.
Her thoughts returned to the baby. She hated bringing her to the field. But the money was too tempting. If she worked hard, she could earn $25 a week. One hundred and fifty dollars for the six-weeks picking season would help this winter when there was no seasonal work. If bringing the baby to work continued to be a problem, she would have to keep her older daughter home from school to baby-sit. These days while husbands were at war, wives and mothers did what was necessary to survive.
Wilson had mentioned Lilly, the first woman to welcome her to the field. Most of the other women were silly girls that didn’t have to face the possible reality that her husband might not return, or the responsibilities of caring for children. Lilly understood. She was a middle-aged Asian woman with small children. Her family had lived here for three generations, and her husband owned a local grocery store. Lilly thought owning their own home and a successful business would protect them, but it hadn’t. After Pearl Harbor when the USA entered the war, the country worried about living alongside Japanese American citizens.
Yesterday afternoon, military men pulled Lilly into an Army truck. The women rushed to intervene, arguing that she was no threat, but to no avail. The men explained that she and her family were being taken “to keep them safe” until the war ended. Lilly’s United States citizenship could not compete with wartime racial prejudice.
The women had cried. “What about their grocery store? What is an "internment camp?" When can she come home? How can the United States do this?” There were no answers.
Lilly’s misfortune secured Mary’s job. For the next few weeks, she would pick hops and save her money. When hop season ended, she would find other work. Her dependent’s check and ration stamps would get them through this winter. Next spring, she would plant a victory garden. Her son would collect items for the rubber drives. They would buy a War Bond. She would knit socks for the boys overseas and contribute to the rag drive. Next year there would be beans, berries, apples, and more hops to pick. Perhaps the war would end, and Ed would come home. Somehow, she would endure.
She heard her baby cry. She took the bag from her shoulder and walked back to tend the child. The field was quiet except for the sound of her feet crunching the vines beneath her feet.
***
The Praying Mantis sat on the trampled vines near the child. Her peaceful world had turned upside down, her home yanked down, trampled into the earth, ripped asunder by unknown forces. She was powerless to stop the destruction.
The woman’s footsteps echoed louder. The Mantis rose to her hind legs and defiantly waved her antenna toward the threatening danger. Within the ruins of her world, defenseless compared to the giant approaching, she prepared to fight to the death to protect her unborn children. She would endure. She had to endure, because she had no other choice.
