Nothing Runs Like a Deere

Nothing Runs Like A Deere


I don't know where Junior got the idea that we could drive his dad's tractor. I don't know how he thought we'd get away with it.

We were twelve years old, Junior and I. It was July and we were bored. No new farm animals had been born in weeks, and we had done all the things we had planned to do that summer. We'd gone fishing several times, in the pond on his farm and in the creek that ran behind my house. We'd ridden our bikes all the way to the county line which was farther than we were allowed to go. We'd climbed to the top of the Great Oak in Mr. Roberts' pasture - a tree my dad said was at least ninety feet tall, and camped out in a tent in Junior's backyard.We'd played with piglets, sneaking them out of the stall before their mamas could catch us, and even jumped out of the hay loft into a mound of straw on the ground, hoping OUR mamas didn't catch us. By mid-summer we were out of exciting things to do.

We were wandering around the barnyard looking for anything interesting, when suddenly Junior stopped in his tracks, a smile showing he'd thought of something to do.

"Let's drive the tractor!" he exclaimed.

"What tractor?" I asked, hoping he meant the garden tractor, but knowing he didn't.

"The John Deere," he said. "It's parked behind the barn, and Dad never takes the keys out of it. We can drive it around the pasture!"

I didn't want to dampen his excitement, but one of us had to be rational.

"Do you know what'll happen to us if we do that? They'll skin us alive!"

He looked at me in disbelief. "Are you scared?" he asked. "Shoot, almost everything we've done this summer has been stuff we weren't supposed to do."

"I guess if I don't go along you'll do it alone," I said.

We walked around the barn. There sat the old John Deere tractor. Suddenly it looked a lot bigger than I remembered.

"Do you know how to start it?" I asked as we climbed up.

"Sure. I've watched Dad lots of times."

We shared the seat and looked around. Junior took hold of the steering wheel and struck a pose - head held high and looking down the front of the machine. I just sat there looking around for his dad or mom.

Then he did it. He reached down and turned the key. There was a short "ch-chug", then nothing.

"I think you have to push in the clutch," I said, "then let it out as you push the gas." I had ridden with my dad and grandpa several times on their tractor.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot."

He stretched his leg to reach the clutch and slid off the seat. I laughed and he gave me his "shut up" look. I tried to look serious. He tried again and finally got himself balanced so he could reach the clutch and barely sit on the seat at the same time. He got the tractor started, and we both yelled "Yea!"

He put the tractor in gear - I don't know which gear it was, but I don't think it was the right one - then slowly let out the clutch as he pushed the gas. The motor roared, then we lurched forward as he released the clutch. He fell off the seat again and I had to catch myself to keep from going over backwards. As he climbed back up to the seat the tractor was headed straight for the chicken house.

"Whoa!" he yelled as he turned the steering wheel to the left, causing me to slide off the seat.

He finally got the tractor to chug along at a slow pace so he could steer it, and he headed toward the pasture. Neither of us remembered until then that there was a gate to open to get into the pasture.

"Oh no!" I screamed.

Junior turned the wheel sharp to the right causing both of us to slide off the seat again as the tractor turned with the back left tire off the ground. As we tried to pull ouselves back up to see what was going on, the tractor picked up speed and continued to the right, making a circle. We were headed for the gate again.

"Stop this thing!" I yelled at Junior, who was looking at the coming gate with eyes three times their normal size.

"I can't!" he yelled back. "I can't get the brake pedal down!"

I decided to take my chances and jump. As I prepared to leap, the tractor hit the metal gate and I was thrown off - right into the barbed wire fence. The tractor slowed as it hit the gate, but didn't stop. It was pushing it's way through. Junior was scared and crying, still trying to get the brake pedal down.

"Turn it off!" I yelled. "Turn the key off!"

Junior reached for the key and turned it off, just as the gate broke loose from its posts. The tractor's motor died and the machine finally stopped.

"Are you okay?" Junior called to me. He was still too scared to move.

"I might bleed to death from all these barbs sticking in me, but I guess I'm okay," I answered, trying to free myself from three strands of barbed wire.

Junior's dad showed up then. He had been in the house when our adventure started. When he had come back outside he saw our wild ride.

"Are you boys all right?" he asked. I could tell he was scared, too. We both said we were okay, and he helped me get untangled as Junior walked over to us. He was looking at the ground as he walked, fearing what would come next.

"Well, since you're not hurt," his dad said, "it looks like you've got yourselves a job fixing this fence and gate. That ought to fill up a lot of your extra time." He walked over to the tractor and inspected it for damage.

"The tractor survived," he said. "Now you know why there's rules about the farm machinery. If you don't know how to use something, leave it alone."

He looked at me and said," You better get home and have those cuts looked at. You tell your folks exactly what happened - because if you don't, I will."

He took Junior's arm and said, " We've got some talking to do, and I'm sure your mom will have a few things to say, too."

Luckily, my folks were so upset about what could have happened, they let me get by with only a lecture and a stern warning about what would happen if I tried anything like that again.

Junior and I got the gate and fence fixed, and gave the tractor a wide berth for the rest of the summer.