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Little One
From the deck chair on the porch, Doug Willoughby had slowly stopped polishing his shotgun and sucking on the piece of straw that he kept in his mouth.
Just over the fields of corn and next to the patch of forest, he watched and listened carefully as he heard the distress from the cattle.
“Hollis,” he called, “Hollis, come out here.”
A young man who was rail thin and dressed in dungarees a size too big had just stepped outside with a questionable stare as he was interrupted from eating his dinner.
“What the hell do you want? I was eating, goddammit.”
They were both farmers who worked the same land.
“Listen? You hear that?”
Hollis closed his eyes and tried his best to listen, but after an accident which left him with a dead ear, he struggled and got frustrated.
“What the hell did you call me out here for?”
Doug stood up with a gleaming shotgun in his hands.
“It’s them kids again I reckon. The ones buggin’ our cows.”
Hollis tried his best to listen again.
“Wait a second,” he said, “I think I can hear ‘em mooing.”
A cold breeze blew through the porch as Doug grunted.
“We better give ‘em scare,” he said as he loaded his gun.
“Hold on,” spoke Hollis, “I remember seein’ the other day about some young missin’ girl up in this area around here. Some kid runaway or summin’.”
“I don’t give a dog’s bollock if it’s a young girl or a one of them ladies from that Cherry Lee club. I don’t want no one disturbin’ our cows, you hear me?”
“Barely. But fine, let’s get a-moving then.”
Hollis drove the truck and Doug sat in the side seat with his shotgun in his lap.
A dark red sky was bleeding above and fractured clouds let little light through.
Doug grunted, “it’s starting to get dark out. You bring a bring a torch?”
Hollis reached under the seat and pulled out an old battered one which was what you’d see in those cheesy eighties’ horror movies.
“Dammit Hollis, you expect me to see with that piddly thing?”
“Shut your hole,” he barked, “at least ‘em kids will barely see us coming then.”
They pulled up closer to the field of cows and by the time they had reached it, the sky had turned from red into a cold blue.
Doug stepped out first, leading with his shotgun, while Hollis flicked on the torch which let out a dim glow.
The cows had settled now and were all huddled underneath a large oak.
“Looks...
Just over the fields of corn and next to the patch of forest, he watched and listened carefully as he heard the distress from the cattle.
“Hollis,” he called, “Hollis, come out here.”
A young man who was rail thin and dressed in dungarees a size too big had just stepped outside with a questionable stare as he was interrupted from eating his dinner.
“What the hell do you want? I was eating, goddammit.”
They were both farmers who worked the same land.
“Listen? You hear that?”
Hollis closed his eyes and tried his best to listen, but after an accident which left him with a dead ear, he struggled and got frustrated.
“What the hell did you call me out here for?”
Doug stood up with a gleaming shotgun in his hands.
“It’s them kids again I reckon. The ones buggin’ our cows.”
Hollis tried his best to listen again.
“Wait a second,” he said, “I think I can hear ‘em mooing.”
A cold breeze blew through the porch as Doug grunted.
“We better give ‘em scare,” he said as he loaded his gun.
“Hold on,” spoke Hollis, “I remember seein’ the other day about some young missin’ girl up in this area around here. Some kid runaway or summin’.”
“I don’t give a dog’s bollock if it’s a young girl or a one of them ladies from that Cherry Lee club. I don’t want no one disturbin’ our cows, you hear me?”
“Barely. But fine, let’s get a-moving then.”
Hollis drove the truck and Doug sat in the side seat with his shotgun in his lap.
A dark red sky was bleeding above and fractured clouds let little light through.
Doug grunted, “it’s starting to get dark out. You bring a bring a torch?”
Hollis reached under the seat and pulled out an old battered one which was what you’d see in those cheesy eighties’ horror movies.
“Dammit Hollis, you expect me to see with that piddly thing?”
“Shut your hole,” he barked, “at least ‘em kids will barely see us coming then.”
They pulled up closer to the field of cows and by the time they had reached it, the sky had turned from red into a cold blue.
Doug stepped out first, leading with his shotgun, while Hollis flicked on the torch which let out a dim glow.
The cows had settled now and were all huddled underneath a large oak.
“Looks...
