There were once twin boys born on Christmas day named Cain and Abel. Their momma, Eve, was one of the first widows in Allendale after the boy’s father Adam was killed at Manassas Junction.
They grew up on the family’s plantation down on the Nuwyeh River about 10 miles from Allendale as the crow flies. Once grown they stayed around to help their momma make ends meet on the plantation. The boys decided that they would separate the farm down a long path that separated the 1,000 acres of land — all that was left of the plantation after reconstruction. Cain would have 500 acres on the river side of the plantation, and Abel would have the hilly pastures on the other side. Now Cain, he was a man of the earth and loved to be out in the fields of tall cotton he grew. Abel on the other hand loved all the animals, and took to keeping sheep and cattle on his half of the land.
A few years went by with this arrangement and the boys worked well together. Both got married and had children of their own, building houses on each side of their mother’s when the big house got too small for everyone. Cain built his house first on the right and Abel on the left. Every Sunday the families gathered together and went to the Ezra Baptist Church like they’d done all their lives. After they always came back to the Big House to eat supper.
Eve’s father, the Rev. Charles Abner Vickers, would come home with them too and always praised the supper. “These are excellent beans you’ve grown here Cain,” he’d say. Then he’d compliment Abel on the cut of beef, the tenderness of the mutton or the juiciness of the ham.
One night after supper Cain and Abel sat down in the parlor with their Poppy. They took to smoking pipes and sipping homemade whiskey, enjoying friendly conversation and local news. The conversation turned to the business of the family farm, Cain and Abel making arguments about what makes more money considering the use of the land.
“Poppy,” Cain said. “Ain’t it better for us all to keep makin’ money off our cotton? If we planted on Abel’s side of the fields, we could be making three times what we do now during harvest season.”
“But Cain, you wouldn’t have such good cotton without the manure my cows and sheep provide.”
“They cost a lot to feed and keep Abel,” Cain said. “And on top of that, Momma sometimes complains about the smell of the smokehouse and the dung pile.”
“Momma’s never said nothin’ to me ’bout the pile Cain. And what is this? You ain’t never said anythin’ ’bout my animals before.”
Their grandfather stopped the two.
“Cain, now you can’t be greedy about letting your brother use his God given talents to make a better life for himself and his family.”
“But sir, we could be making a lot more money.”
“Life ain’t all about money Cain, you gotta also have a passion. Now come Abel, tell me your secret: how is it you got the best ham in all of Morgan County?”
“It’s a secret Poppa, if I told you that how would I stay in business?”
“Ha, now that’s the spirit my boy! Come, fill up my whiskey glass and we’ll talk about other things.”
Cain was furious. How could they not see that with more cotton they could buy more land, and with more land Abel could have his own way. Instead, they would always remain small as long as Abel was holding the family back.
His jealousy grew and grew as Abel won blue ribbons for the best slaughter steers, milk cows, sheep, goats and pigs in all of Morgan County. His giant pumpkins and watermelons and even his sweet corn got not even a mere mention in the local paper, always Abel Clayton and his great beef. Always Abel, we love your hams.
When winter came, Cain sat down to a letter from the sales agent for their cotton. The final price at market came in lower than expected; some of the cotton had rotted away on the docks. After he read the letter, a knock came on his study door. “Yes?”
Abel came rushing in, a letter in his hand. “Cain! Look at this! We’re getting $5 a head for cattle this year! We’re gonna be rich!”
This news hit him like a rock crushing his chest. “That’s wonderful brother,” he said in shock. “Come, let’s celebrate.”
They got drunk together in his study; went walking with one another down the big lane separating their fields carrying a half-filled bottle and passing it between them, shotguns slung on their backs.
“Brother, how do you do it? Everyone loves you and your meat but no one loves what I provide.”
“Cain, I don’t care a lick for what people say about me, and you shouldn’t either. Come on, let’s go back. It’s getting dark.”
“Nah, let’s walk a little more. Just tell me, why? Why can’t I do what you do?”
“God has a purpose for us all brother, just like Poppy said in church.”
“What is my purpose then Abel? Playin’ second fiddle to you?”
“I don’t know. What’s wrong with you? Yer talkin’ crazy tonite. Let’s get you home and get some ham in you.”
Abel turned to go back, but Cain stopped him.
“Abel, we didn’t have a good year with the crops. We lost some money.”
“Are you in earnest? Is that what this is about? Come on brother, it’s just money. Let’s go home.”
“No! Listen to me! This is about you always bein’ better than me!” he shouted. He went for his shotgun before Abel could react and see what his brother was doing, and in a drunken rage he fired. His brother fell, and a few quail came flying from the bushes behind.
“Oh god, what have I done?” Cain said, collapsing to the ground. It was too late, his brother was already gone to heaven.
