Wednesday, December 18, 2013

meat

                            It had rained all night. Usually the rain on the trailer's metal roof don't bother me, lulls me back to sleep in fact, as if somebody was talking to me...a soft voice...and it drains bad stuff going on in your head and you can't help dropping off but tonight I was thinking stronger than the soft voice and I stayed awake a long time before I fell asleep again. I don't like this job I had to do tomorrow. So I thought about that and finally went back to sleep and it seemed like five minutes before my father was shaking me awake. I had already loaded the six pigs yesterday afternoon at feeding. There was Milly and Bucky and the four others who were not so friendly as Milly and Bucky, and they had followed me into the stock trailer as if it was nothing. That didn't make me feel so good as it should have because they were trusting me and I was leading them all right. I tried to think about that Dad would pick this day because he had been doing this since a long time and I knew he'd picked this day because there was a hot market, so I tried to think about the money. These hogs were some fat hogs, and I had fifty chickens, meat birds, also very fat, which I didn't care about like I did the hogs especially Milly and Bucky. Don't know why, as long as I have been on this farm and raising hogs, since I was a little boy, I guess, hogs bother me so much. Dad says if you can't make money raising hogs, maybe you ought to think about something else to do. Well, I do think about something else to do all the time. I think about playing my guitar in fancy places in the big city, or writing my poems or stories on my computer or just staring at my computer all day.  But then I get out with my hogs, and there they are. Same with cats and dogs and goats and all the other animals around here but worse with them hogs. Some things there is no figuring them out I guess, except the money, even the money.
     So finally after Dad shook me awake, after I lay there awhile wondering if Milly and Bucky knew what was happening to them, like I swear She-she did, our old family milker Jersey, who dried up one day and wouldn't freshen any more...she pointed at me her wet black nose and big black eyes eyeing me woeful, I swear she knew...anyway, I gave up thinking about them because I started thinking about the money I'd put in my pocket today. Jerry had a used Wrangler down to the garage about 8 or 10 years old, a Florida car he brought back from speed week, no rust, and I thought I might be able to swing it. You know about Jeeps. It's been like that all my life.  I forget the guy's name, George something, when we lived in town a long time ago, had a CJ he fixed up fancy. Me and Dad went over one day to look at it. Maybe Jeeps are a guy thing. Ma laughed, "That thing leaks in the rain, cold in the winter, no heater, won't start! Adele, three babies, must think the world of all the money George has sunk into it." George took us for a couple hours ride. That was it for me. Damned, that thing could get around. So after awhile of thinking about hogs and my dirty deed and then thinking about Jeeps, maybe I felt a little better. Besides, I didn't have to look at the hogs this morning or feel their itty-bitty all knowing eyes. I got up. Dad was eating breakfast. Not me. I went outside. As I was walking outside, I could feel mom and dad looking at me kind of funny. I always feel better when I'm outside, 'cept when I'm outside too long, then I want to be inside again.
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