11. Beast
BEAST
The boys knew they were in trouble the moment Hank stepped onto the porch.
The old rancher leaned heavily on his cane.
His swollen knee was obviously bothering him.
But the look on his face?
That had nothing to do with gout.
That was pure irritation.
The three ranch hands stood in a line near the barn.
Covered in dirt.
Sweat.
And poor decision-making.
The cow was finally off the roof.
The fence was repaired.
Mostly.
And somehow they'd still managed to break two feed buckets.
I hadn't even asked how.
I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
Hank looked at the boys.
The boys looked at their boots.
Smart.
Very smart.
The silence stretched.
Nobody moved.
Finally, Hank pointed his cane.
Right at them.
"If you've got enough energy to put cows on roofs..."
The boys immediately started talking.
"We didn't put her on the roof."
"She walked."
"It wasn't intentional."
Hank raised an eyebrow.
The boys wisely stopped speaking.
Then the old rancher finished.
"...you've got enough energy to shovel manure."
Silence.
Complete silence.
The youngest looked horrified.
Actually horrified.
Like Hank had announced the end of civilization.
"All of it?"
Hank stared.
The boy swallowed.
"Stupid question."
"Very."
The oldest sighed dramatically.
"We already fixed the fence."
"You destroyed the fence."
"We repaired it."
"You repaired what was left of it."
The kid considered that.
Then nodded.
"Fair."
I turned away before they saw me smile.
Sadie wasn't even trying.
She was openly laughing.
The traitor.
The absolute traitor.
The boys shuffled toward the equipment shed.
Like prisoners marching toward execution.
One grabbed a shovel.
Another grabbed a wheelbarrow.
The youngest stared at the manure pile.
Long.
Thoughtfully.
Then looked at me.
"How bad is this going to be?"
"Very."
His shoulders slumped.
Good.
Maybe he'd learn something.
He wouldn't.
But maybe.
Hope was important.
For the first ten minutes, things actually went surprisingly well.
The boys shoveled.
The wheelbarrow moved.
Nobody argued.
Nobody fell down.
I should've known it wouldn't last.
The youngest loaded the wheelbarrow with too much manure.
The oldest pointed that out.
The youngest ignored him.
The second boy laughed.
The youngest attempted to prove everyone wrong.
He pushed harder.
The wheelbarrow hit a rut.
The entire load tipped backward.
Directly onto him.
The ranch exploded.
Sadie doubled over laughing.
Hank nearly dropped his coffee.
Even I felt my mouth twitch.
The kid stood there.
Frozen.
Covered from chest to boots.
A piece of straw hung from his hat.
Nobody helped him.
Because nobody could breathe.
The laughter was too bad.
The boy pointed at us.
"This isn't funny."
That made it worse.
Much worse.
The second ranch hand laughed so hard he stumbled backward.
Straight into a water trough.
A massive splash erupted.
Now both boys were soaked.
One with water.
One with manure.
The third ranch hand laughed so hard he dropped his shovel.
The shovel landed on the wheelbarrow handle.
The handle launched upward.
Like a catapult.
My instincts screamed.
Too late.
Way too late.
A chunk of manure flew through the air.
The entire ranch watched it travel.
Slowly.
Almost gracefully.
Like destiny.
Unfortunately...
Destiny hated me.
SPLAT.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Everybody froze.
Sadie stared.
The boys stared.
Hank stared.
I stared.
At the manure now covering the front of my shirt.
The youngest ranch hand looked genuinely impressed.
"Wow."
Nobody spoke.
Then Sadie made a choking sound.
A very dangerous sound.
Because I knew exactly what came next.
The laugh hit her first.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds, she was laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.
The boys joined in immediately.
Cowards.
Traitors.
Every one of them.
Even Hank was smiling.
The old rancher actually shook his head.
"You know, Beast..."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Don't."
Hank ignored me.
Completely.
"As much time as you've spent around this ranch lately..."
His smile widened.
"...you're fitting in just fine."
The laughter started all over again.
I stood there.
Covered in manure.
Surrounded by idiots.
And somehow...
For the first time in years...
I wouldn't have rather been anywhere else.