Broken [In Revision 2023]

Chapter Four - Consequences (New 2022)

Orange light glowed on the horizon as Caleb's alarm rang. He silenced it with a groan. His muscled ached. With heavy eyelids, he pulled himself out of bed and threw on yesterday's clothes. The house didn't stir as he tiptoed down the hall, the orchestra of snores didn't miss a single beat.

The cows called loudly as soon as he rounded the corner and came into their sights. He ran through the barn and called the machinery to life. He worked fast in the hope of a sneaky nap before afternoon chores.

He paused to look across at the house at the sound of his father's truck. It trundled down the drive and turned off through the dirt tracks. One of the cows hurried towards the gap in the electric fence. Caleb sprinted forward to cut it off, looping the hook over the fixed perimeter wire. The cow skidded to a stop and ran back up the hill with its tail high.

"So much for that nap," he mumbled as he trudged his way back to the barn.

Sure enough, Carmine was waiting for him in the parlour. "Your father is heading out of town to do a shoeing job on a ranch, I need you to take the milk to the co-op while I do the cheese."

Caleb nodded.

"On your way back, I need you to stop in on Mrs Murray, she is waiting on two pints of raw milk."

His shoulders sagged as he fetched his truck. Reversing the bed so it was as close to the parlour doors as possible. It didn't take long to load the crates of red-capped raw and blue-capped pasteurised glass bottles. No skimmed or pure cream as the replacement parts for the separator hadn't arrived. Last to be loaded into the cab was the two slabs of butter; one salted, one plain, wrapped in thick waxed paper.

"Don't forget Mrs Murray," Carmine yelled, not taking her eye off the scales as she weighed out the rennet.

Caleb grabbed the two extra bottles of raw from the shelf. "Got them."

The Co-op sat on Mainstreet, a Large converted agricultural building which also housed the Museum and Visitor Centre. Inside it looked like a conventional store, with everything from fruit and veg to cakes and yarn which could be brought with cash or exchanged for goods.

Caleb parked the truck in the layby behind the store on Back Street. The door opened and a member of staff wheeled a trolley over to the truck.

"Morning, Harry." Caleb lifted the two slabs of butter off the passenger seat and placed them on the top shelf of the trolley.

Harry grunted and started pulling the crates of milk from the back of the truck. His bones groaned and clicked with arthritis. The wind tossed his thinning hair forcing him to slick it back with a saliva-moistened hand. He made a point to count the crates. "No cream?"

"No." Caleb helped with the last two crates. "Wednesday, hopefully."

"I've got people chewing my ear."

"There will be fresh cheese tomorrow, Carmine is working on it now." Caleb secured his tailgate.

"Cheese is not cream." Harry pushed the trolley to the doors, the glass tinkled with the vibration.

Caleb rolled his eyes, "See you tomorrow, Harry."

The old man raised a hand in a gesture of farewell.

Retirement Row was a short drive away, a collection of small single-story dwellings perfect for the elderly residents of Raven's Valley. Each had a postage stamp-sized front yard maintained by the community and a large, shared garden at the rear with space for planting fruit, veg and flowers.

Caleb stopped parallel to number 15. Beneath the windows were wooden window boxes full to the brim with wildflowers. Ripe strawberries tumbled over the edges, their runners searching for more ground to conquer. He grabbed the two bottles of milk. The front door opened as soon as he closed the truck door with his hip.