Herds and Hooves (Foggy Basin Season Three)

One

Bart Martin

For as long as I could remember, my dad talked about summers spent with his favorite uncle who lived in a small town in northern California, far away from where I grew up in Auburn, and as different as night and day.

Dad seemed to love the country life but was now a heating and air technician who owned his own business while Mom ran the office.

“Did you talk to Uncle Asa?” Mom asked when I checked in after finishing a job.

“Yes. I told him I’d go visit him this weekend,” I said and opened my laptop to log the information from the service I’d just completed.

“Are you excited?” she asked, which when I thought about it I didn’t know how to answer.

“I’m not sure about being excited. I don’t understand why he thinks I’m the best choice.

I mean he said I’m the only one left so there’s that.

What do you think of me working on a dairy?

” I asked for the hundredth time. Uncle Asa had sent me a letter.

A handwritten letter in the most intricate script I’d ever seen had arrived last week.

Dear Bart, as you know, I’m your great-uncle on your dad’s side. I’m sure your father has mentioned the farm in Foggy Basin where he spent many a summer as a child. I do miss those visits, even though he’s now an adult and probably wouldn’t enjoy playing in the mud and muck the way he used to.

Which brings me to the point of this letter.

From my calculations, you are the last in the branch of our family line.

The Martin Dairy has always been owned and run by a Martin, but my days are getting longer, and I find it harder to properly care for my girls.

I would love to have you visit me, and after you see everything here, for you to consider taking over the daily processes of the farm.

I know that you’re thinking you don’t know anything about running a dairy.

But I’ll still be here to teach you everything I know.

Please consider my proposition and send my love to your parents.

Fondly, Asa Martin

She looked over her glasses at me in the way that I knew meant she was done hearing the question. “He literally told you he wants to see if you have any interest in running the family dairy. Asa has no children and his brother, your grandfather, never had any interest in it.”

“I’ve never even seen the farm, and I know nothing about cows or milking or anything else to do with running a dairy.”

“He doesn’t do all the milking anymore. It’s mostly automated and he has help. He wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you could handle it. Your father spent most of his childhood on the farm.”

“I’ll see how I feel after this weekend.” I wasn’t sure what made me even consider his offer other than curiosity and the need to see where this family farm was located. I had a good job and was happy here in Auburn, wasn’t I?

“Where are you going?” Dad asked when as he stomped into the office. He was a large hulking man and had never been light on his feet.

“He’s going to Foggy Basin,” Mom said.

“Good for you. I have so many good memories from the dairy,” he said with a far-off look in his eye.

“Why didn’t we ever go there?” I asked.

“Once we had the business it got harder to leave town. We’re always on call and you know I like to give Jake and Sam time off with their families.

” Jake and Sam were the two employees that worked just as hard as we did.

“Besides, Uncle Asa likes coming here for Christmas. He’s always liked Old Town.

” Every year when he came to town, we’d all go to Old Town for dinner and to wander around.

He loved looking at the shops and seeing what had changed since last year.

“He has to make his annual visit to Claude Chana,” I said making them both chuckle. Claude Chana was one of the founders of the city of Auburn and had earned a massive statue in Old Town for it. He was knelt over a gold pan which we’d all climb up to every year to get a photo. It was a tradition.

“Yes, he does. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it there. I know you don’t know much about the dairy industry, but you’re smart and you’ll pick it up in no time,” Dad said.

“If he chooses to go permanently,” Mom said.

“Yeah, if,” I repeated.

A few days later I had followed my phone’s navigation and was now entering the city limits of Foggy Basin. What I thought would be a wide space in the road was a town decorated for what appeared to be a Pride parade. “They have Pride in Foggy Basin?” I mumbled.

Luckily, the signs said it had happened yesterday and the streets were clear today.

Every business in town was still decorated, and it soothed a part of me that had always been leery of small towns and how they might treat an out and proud gay man.

Not that I was in any way flamboyant or over the top with my love for men, but I wasn’t going to hide it either.

In less than five minutes I’d driven the length of the main street and was now on the main road that would lead to the turn for the dairy.

It was a beautiful drive. The fields were green, the sky was blue, and there wasn’t another car on the road.

The foothills got closer and closer as I continued to check the navigation, but where it told me to turn there was no turn that I could see.

All that was nearby was a dirt road that looked more like where a tractor would drive to maintain the fields it was next to.

After driving until I came to an actual intersection, I flipped around and drove back.

Once again where it told me to turn there was no visible road to turn onto.

“Fuck,” I grumbled and drove back to town.

“Guess I need to do it the old way and ask for directions.” I passed a restaurant and a few other places before seeing the hardware store and pulling into an empty space. “Nuts and Bolts? Weird.”