When night fell

4 | furious goats

Restlessly, I had slept the past few days. During the daily tasks, my mind had all the time to wander back to older days. I didn't know how, and I didn't know why, but a few weeks ago, I had been a master at avoiding these exact thoughts. I failed miserably at it now.

With my arms full of eggs, I gently put them down in a basket we had standing in the barn, totally having forgotten to take it with me while fetching them. I put the basket aside to take it inside the farmhouse later. For now, I had three stables to muck out and clean, before the group would arrive. We had wanted to set up some tents in the pastures, but since the ground was extremely soggy and therefore muddy by the heavy rainfall of lately, we figured they would like sleeping in the barn, too.

When I had put on my work overall and had reached for a wheelbarrow and the manure fork, I slowly got to work. When my eyes met the basket full of eggs, my mind wandered to Papà, to Mamma, to Salomé and Mr. Wood.

Olivetti Lettera 32

It had been a few days after my twelfth birthday. Papà had asked Daniel, Nolan's dad, if I could sleep over at his house, the reasons were vague to me, and I had been too tired to ask further. It had happened quite a lot of times, so I never questioned it anymore. However, when I had looked out of the window that night, across the street where Salomé lived, it had changed everything.

Yes, I knew that Papà liked her, for he had told me that before. I also knew that Salomé liked him, too. But I think seeing it, the confirmation of it all, hurt me deeply as a young boy. For now it was real. Mamma was diseased, and she would not come back anymore. My Papà would love someone else eventually, and life would be extremely different.

They didn't kiss once, not twice, but maybe five times in the time I had been watching them through the window of the loft. I truly despised the sight of it, but for some reasons, I could not look away. I needed to see if it looked different from when he kissed my Mamma. Did he love her more than Mamma? Did he love her less? Differently? But it was too dark to see.

Something had started to rage inside of me. Truthfully, I wanted Papà to be happy, but I didn't think that it would have happened so soon.

The next morning, I hadn't said a word to him. And when Salomè came over to the house, I excused myself and told them I would play at Nolan's home again. They had simply agreed, and though I turned Nolan's direction, I threw my bike across the street and went straight to Salomé's backyard.

It had been my refuge, even before Papà knew her. Without realising, Salomé had helped me for weeks long, applying her knowledge of play therapy while I played on the mechanic bull. She hadn't known I was Papà's son, Papà thought I had been playing with Nolan all the times I had left the house.

Even though it all felt different now I knew about Papà and Salomé, I couldn't stop myself. Bulls were my passion, it fascinated me, and the mechanic bull simply had more functions than the iron horse I had standing in our backyard.

I remember switching it on, pushing the button to the fastest position it could handle, and tried to climb upon the roughly moving bull. It hit me multiple times, it brought me to the ground multiple times, but when I was finally seated upon it, I was so full of anger that I started to scream as if it were a real bull.

When I was getting tired and the bull threw me off, I switched it off entirely and reached for my bike, racing towards the farm in our village. I slipped a couple of times when I cycled the gravel path, the pebbles made the tire go directions I didn't want it to go.

Mr. Wood had seen me arrive. He was greasing the saddles and bridles, nodded his head at me when I arrived. "Benji."

"Hello." I placed my bike against the barn, briefly looked at him. He resembled Teddy. But Teddy's hair was slightly curled, whereas Mr. Wood's hair was straight, and more white. Only the blue eyes told me they were brothers. "Can I fight some bulls?"

He laughed softly. "You can fetch the eggs, and we will cook some."

I pulled a face. "But I want-"

"Fetch the eggs."

Cursing in Italian, I had walked to the chicken coop. Fought a few of them off while they tried to pick on me. I remember blinking my eyes rapidly, secretly hating those flapping wings. I fetched a few eggs, muttered under my breath how I disliked them and brought them over to him. "I don't see why I need to fetch eggs and-"

"Shut it." He grinned, ruffling my hair with the grease now acting as hair gel. "You see, Benjamin.." I followed him inside the house, watched him put the eggs in a pan full of water and he placed it upon the stove. "If you want to fight bulls, you have got to get some food into your system, as well gain some muscles."

"How do you know I did not eat this morning?"

Mr. Wood laughed again. "You don't have any Nutella in the corners of your mouth."

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks reddening. He became serious. "Are you alright?"

"I just want to fight bulls."

"You know we have to take it step by step."

"Can't we skip some?"

"What will it gain you?"

"I'll be quicker to the finish line." I answered, taking a seat at the table.

"Oh? And when you fall?"

"I get back up-"

"You will take ten steps back and you'll have no experience and achievements to rely on and get you back on track as motivation."

I let out a deep breath, waited for the eggs to be cooked. When they were ready, he roasted some toast and poured a glass of milk. When I had eaten the food off my plate, I ran outside, staring at the bulls. He reached for my wrist, brought me over to the goats instead.

"How about some goat tying?"

Now, I was truly starting to feel frustrated, although I had to admit that the food made me feel better. "There's no fun in goats."

"If you want to get good at this sport, you'll need to start here."

"But I can already ride a horse and-"

"My, my. I can see the Italian roots in you." He gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's this, or you can go home."

"Fine."

I remember how the anger reappeared after I had gotten the time to dwell in my thoughts. In fact, I was furious. Furious at Papà, furious at Mamma's cancer, furious at Salomé, even when none of them had done anything wrong.

I had thrown myself onto the goat, handled it as if it was at its slaughterhouse, screamed at it, pushing it to the ground harshly. Mr. Wood had jerked me away, shaken me as he had gripped onto my shoulders. "Hey! This here is still a living animal. If you don't respect them, they will not respect you."

"A bull is never going to respect me!" I had screamed into his face, trying to get away from his grip. "I'll get him to the ground, with mighty force! I'll let him know who's in control!"

"Benjamin.." Mr. Wood had waited for me to be calmed down. When I was, I had broken in tears. "If you're doing all this to pour out all the unfairness life is bringing you, then I suppose you're not doing it for the right reasons."

I suppose he was right. I also suppose I hadn't listened to him.

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Past and present.. do you like the variety?

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Thank you for reading. Much love, X Jo!