“Ox, take this boy down to the swimming hole to see about getting some of the tobacco juice off him.” Pa pointed a finger at Vance’s hunched body as it convulsed from the dry heaves.

“Me? He’s Boss’s friend. He should take him.” I turned to the conveyor, preparing another row of leaves.

“With the way he couldn’t shut up about you today, I believe you’re his friend too.”

I don’t know why Pa was in an antagonizing mood, but I wasn’t up for it. “Boss should.”

“Boss might accidentally let him drown. Best you go. The quicker you can get him washed off, the better. He’s already upchucked everything he had in his gut. Get to it fore he gets any sicker.” Pa shouldered me out of the way and took my spot, going to work and leaving me no choice but to obey.

To be on the safe side, I helped Vance into the bed of the truck and drove to the front of the farm to see Foxy. I climbed out, peeped over the side, and told him to stay put. He answered with a groan and wheeze.

“Hey, Foxy. We got a problem.”

Foxy looked up from the basket of zucchini she was sorting. “What kinda problem?” She adjusted her tie-dyed head wrap and eyed me with a pinched expression. This woman got jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs if things ever got out of sorts.

I hitched a thumb toward the truck. “It’s Vance. First time in a baccer field. He’s sicker than sick. I’m about to take him out to the pond to see about washing some of the juice and gum off, but I was wondering if you got anything that can help.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Let me see.”

Foxy plundered through her medicinal supplies, handed me a mason jar of one of her steeped teas, a salt scrub, and a jug of water. “This tea should help with the nausea. Have him sip it, and keep offering some water, too, to rehydrate. Use the salt scrub to help wash him off.” She broke a few leaves of mint off from the plant growing beside the farm stand. “When he’s in better shape, have him chew on some of this.”

“Thanks, Foxy.” I put everything on the seat while she leaned over the side of the truck and took in Vance’s whimpering body.

She hummed a disapproval. “You didn’t think to tell him to wear more clothes? All that skin exposed —”

“Of course I did, but the fool didn’t listen. Said it was too hot,” I retorted as Vance’s groan turned into another dry heave.

Foxy patted his bare shoulder. “I hope you feel better, cutie. Do what Austin says, okay?”