Dirt Lullabies
Page 7
His giggle was like a choir of children all laughing together from a mass unmarked grave. It sent cold chills up my spine, but still the shovel fell. I never stopped to rest. Each time I felt the urge to take a little break that inner voice would whisper “dig” and I’d find myself complying without even questioning it.
The hole was widening quickly. I was up to my waist in depth and I had to keep both feet firmly planted on either side of that yawning abyss. The earthen walls down there had a strange circular appearance, rounded off at the sides. I assumed they’d gained that shape whenever M burrowed his way closer to the opening.
M’s purr stopped me just as I was about to sink the shovel into another section of soil. It sounded perfectly relaxed and satisfied.
“You’ve been busy,” said the thing from below.
I wiped my forehead, little pieces of grit falling down to catch in my eyelashes.
“Climb out and take a look. Take pride in your labor.”
I hauled myself out of the hole and looked down into it, my feet at the edge of the opening. The hole resembled the kind of grave I used to dig when I worked at the cemetery, rectangular and descending down several feet. It had progressed so far from that little crack in the dirt…
“I see I’ve chosen the right man for the job…”
I stepped back from the grave-shaped pit I’d made and sank the shovel down into the dirt, allowing it to remain there.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now I think you should remove that rock from your shoe. I’d imagine it’s a bit uncomfortable.”
I wasn’t aware of any rock in my shoe up until M mentioned it. I felt it now, though. It was jagged and biting up against my heel. I leaned down and dug down into my boot, proceeding to pull out the dirt-encrusted piece of rock.
It looked wrong, though. At first I thought it had pierced my heel and drawn blood. That might account for the reddish color. There was no lasting pain in my foot though, no plasma on the rock either. The crimson hue was coming from behind the crust of dirt. I begin picking off the flakes of earth and uncovering more of the rock’s surface.
I brought it closer to my eyes, momentarily stunned.
It was a ruby the size of a baby’s fist.
“Never know what kinda prize you’re gonna get when you reach down into my cereal box, do you, kiddo?”
M’s laughter serenaded me. I barely heard it; still busy marveling at the precious stone I was holding in my hand.
“Speaking of cereal…and food in general, that brings me to the next step, Roman. Are you ready for the next step?”
I nodded, my fist closing around the ruby.
“Meat is the next step, child of flesh and sinew. A substantial meal to quell an everlasting appetite. A crumb won’t do this time. I need a large beast of the earth, meat that still lives and breathes when it is brought to my doorstep.”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like where this was going…
“I like my steak rare, Roman. So rare that I can see the terror in the eyes before I eat the eyes. Flesh that is raw, meat that moves in my mouth.”
“What…kind of meat are you talking about?” I asked, my stomach tying itself up in knots all over again. I got the very strong feeling that M wasn’t talking about an innocent trip down to the grocery store or the butcher’s shop.
“Consider yourself my delivery boy, child of flesh and sinew. You’ll bring my supper to me and I’ll tip you like you’ve never been tipped before. You’ve widened the hole just enough for me to fit a little piece of myself out of it, Roman. You bring me what I need…”
What the hell did M mean by that? I’d widened the hole enough for him to squeeze a bit of himself through?
“I’ll come up for a little fresh air…and I will feed. Very simple and easy. I need the energy. All these centuries of imprisonment have sapped me of my strength and I need protein to regain it. Bring me a walking steak…that’ll be a damn good start.”
“Are you talking about a cow?”
“Mhm. A living, breathing cow. The fatter the better. Just lead it to the slaughter, Roman. Humans devour these bovines every single day. You don’t get sentimental about gobbling down a burger, do you?”
This wasn’t exactly the same as the kitten. It wasn’t a request that scraped too deeply against my moral compass, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre.
“How the hell am I supposed to get a living cow down here? Where am I supposed to get a cow in the first place?”
“I don’t know, farmer fuckin’ Brown…FIND ONE. That’s your task. Search the fields and bring it to the killing field. All you have to do is get it close to the hole.”
I could almost hear the hunger in M’s voice.
“I’ll take care of the rest.”
The doubt was creeping in, this entire scenario just seeming like too much for me.
“I don’t know…”
“Do this, Roman…and you will die an old, rich man in a mansion on the hill with a healthy, happy family. Your children’s children will prosper and your bloodline will never want for anything. But if you turn from the path…if you break our covenant…”
A sound like an impossibly large tongue scraping against tombstone teeth echoed up from the grave-hole.
“It will get ugly.”
Images begin flashing through my head. My sick mother resting in her familiar chair. My father cleaning toilets in some nasty restroom. And finally an image of myself convulsing in the gutter, my body emaciated and my eyes rolled up to the whites as sewer rats danced across my pallid flesh.
I wasn’t sure if these images came from my own imagination or if M planted them there, but regardless they haunted me.
It was only a cow. People ate cows all the time. They were livestock. It was just the nature of the world. It was all part of the food chain…
I wasn’t willing to sacrifice everything that I loved in life for a fucking cow.
“I’ll do it.”
Chapter 27
Roman
I spent the next day driving around Rust Valley and looking for nearby fields that might harbor cattle. I was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled down low and thick aviator shades. I’d tried to conceal my identity as much as possible, but looking at myself in the rear view mirror I thought I was the spitting image of a stalker. I wasn’t preying on beautiful women though or creeping outside of some celebrity’s house.
I was stalking cows.
The very idea of this seemed both ridiculous and surreal all at the same time. I had no plan when it came to transporting the cow back to the root cellar. It wasn’t like I could just shove the beast into the trunk and cruise off while whistling innocently…
I had more than enough cash on me to buy a cow (or a whole herd for that matter) but I didn’t want to risk that. The farmer would likely remember me and I didn’t want to leave any kind of paper trail. The last thing I needed was a rumor circulating in town that I was some kind of cow killer or cow fucker or god knows what…if mountain folk are good at anything, it’s telling outlandish tales like that to stave off boredom.
This had to go down quietly. Today was just about scoping out the lay of the land and getting an idea of where I might be able to score a bovine. I had no intention of trying to pull it off during daylight hours. This would have to happen after sunset, just like most strange things do.
Just more night work to be done in the name of M’s unknowable desires. I was starting to feel like some sort of nocturnal ghoul that gets down to nasty business when everyone else is fast asleep at home.
Most of the farms I saw were too far away from the root cellar. Some were closer but they were surrounded by other houses and it was likely I’d be spotted messing around in a field at night. I was starting to give up hope…
I was heading back down my lane and feeling defeated when I spotted the sprawling dirt road behind the “KEEP OUT” sign. I’d passed the entrance to this ragged little road before but I�
�d never really given it a second look. I had no idea what was down there. Figured it couldn’t hurt to find out…
I ignored the sign’s warning and drove down the road a bit. It was very dark, overhung with massive oak trees, the dead leaves crunching beneath the tires of my old Buick. I rounded a corner into a more open space and my eyes widened behind my sunglasses.
I’d hit the jackpot.
I found myself gazing out at a muddy brown field with yellowing grass and hills that sloped far over the horizon. There was a large farm house in the distance and I could just make out a barn and feed silo at the very extent of my vision, but all of that was far away from the field itself. The occupants of this field were all huddled in a tight circle near a large watering trough.
Big, beautiful cows…chewing cud and dropping steaming manure from behind swishing tails. There were plenty to choose from, little calves too, but what gave me pause was the big black bull that lingered at the edge of the circle. He might prove to be a complication. I’d have to find a way to deal with him if I wanted to be successful in bringing M what he asked for…
I stared at the grazing animals for a moment, wondering if they knew on some instinctual level that a predator was watching. They showed no sign of it if they did. They appeared calm and not even a little skittish, likely grown accustomed to humans being close by over the years. That would come in handy for me.
This was the place. This would be my hunting ground. When the moon rose higher and the blackness reigned, I would choose my sacrifice. I’d drive the car back home and walk back later when the time was right.
M would have his meat.
And when it’s done, I’ll have my family…and hopefully my sanity.
Chapter 28
Roman
Darkness fell. The moon shined bright tonight and it gave me all the light I’d need. I peered out from the edge of a wooded area that gave me a perfect vantage of the field. I was bundled from head to toe in black, my overcoat drawn tight and my hood pulled down low. I wore thick leather gloves and had a scarf wrapped around the lower half of my face. Even covered in so many layers the chill ran deep through my bones. I’d chosen a cold night for this task.
I was watching the cattle, hoping for that perfect straggler from the herd. I felt like a wolf hunkered down in the wilderness and looking for the easiest target. My eyes searched for limping legs, old and sick bovines…anything that wouldn’t put up much of a fight when it was time to take it. I had a thick length of rope in my right hand for leading the cow back to the root cellar. I had no doubt in my mind I’d be leading it to the slaughter…
The herd was easy to see in the moonlight, clouds of cold breath expelled from many sets of wet nostrils. The beasts didn’t move much; mainly they huddled together and shuffled their hooves occasionally. They were conserving body heat. I was well hidden and I didn’t think they were aware of my presence, but even if they were they didn’t seem to care that I was there.
There was one brown cow that seemed to stand apart from the others. She was clearly old, her body sagging with fat and her udders seeming to droop almost all the way down to the ground. She was busying herself by joylessly munching on what little yellow grass she could find on the outskirts of the herd. Her eyes seemed rheumy and clouded over with cataracts, giving me the idea that she was almost blind. There didn’t seem to be much fight in this old girl…
Victim acquired, I tightened my grip on the length of rope in my hand. I approached as stealthily as possible, my footsteps light and my movements painstakingly quiet. There was some mild grunting from the herd as a few of them sighted me, but it didn’t set off any kind of panic. They seemed completely indifferent to the sight of me approaching. I hadn’t spotted the bull yet during this visit. I was starting to think I’d be able to pull this off without ever having to even interact with him…
I was in arm’s length of the old brown cow now. Her head rose and she lowed at me, a dumb and oblivious sound. She then lowered her mouth back to the ground and began chewing at the grass again. I began to slowly circle the rope around her neck, making sure to knot it tightly enough to hold but not tightly enough to choke her. She never made any attempt to protest or struggle. It was clear that she was used to being lead by humans so this was nothing new to her.
I had the knot almost perfect when I heard something very large approaching me from behind. I heard heavy breathing and hooves stomping furrows into the earth. I could almost feel the icy breath of the animal blowing against my back, whipping at the hair on my head like a foul-smelling wind.
I didn’t want to turn around. I knew exactly what was waiting for me. Nevertheless I summoned the resolve to crane my neck, albeit slowly, to look over my shoulder. I found myself face to face with almost 1,500lbs of pissed off Brahma bull, eyes rimmed with red and a mouth open and slobbering with foamy saliva. The bull was only a few feet away from me, those hooves pawing at the dirt over and over again. I swallowed deeply, my body momentarily frozen as I desperately tried to plan my next move.
It was going to charge. I could see that much in the eyes of the beast and the hunched positioning of those powerful shoulders. My reflexes would have to be fast and perfect if I didn’t want to get the absolute shit gored out of me in this barren field. It seemed like we were having a staring contest, the bull and I…locked in a battle of wills. The night was silent and nothing stirred. Time stood still as I slowly turned my body to face the bull, my heels digging into the ground to gain purchase. I felt a fat bead of sweat running down my temple but I didn’t dare reach up to wipe it away.
Suddenly a sound started way back in the bull’s throat, a rising bellow that pierced the sanctity of the night and broke my paralysis. He was coming. Horns lowered and head bucking from side to side, he aimed himself at my torso. His charge was deceptively fast, my reaction time not nearly up to par with the speed of his approach.
I darted to my right, arms pulling close to my body to avoid the huge animal. I was quick, but not quick enough. One of the horns dug a shallow groove into my bicep, cutting straight through the material of my coat. The cut wasn’t deep, but still the pain awoke me, the little droplets of blood starting to trickle down my arm. I shook it off as best I could and wheeled back around to see the bull doing the same, preparing for his next charge.
He came at me again, all bad intentions and bellowing fury. I might not get lucky this time. It was time to utilize my insurance policy…
Just as the bull was still several yards away I reached deeply into the pockets of my coat and pulled out two heavy chunks of hay, proceeding to throw them directly in the bull’s direction. It had the exact reaction I was hoping for. From behind me the herd of cows suddenly all began trudging past me towards the hay, mooing and excited for the late night snack. More and more of the herd passed me in an effort to get to the hay, creating a wall of bovine flesh between myself and the bull. He was furious on the other side of that wall, stomping the dirt and snorting as he struggled to find a way to get to me.
I had no plans to stick around though.
I took the opening this distraction provided and I wrapped my hand around the rope on the old cow’s neck, turning to head for the little stretch of woods beyond the field. The cow followed obediently, her old fat body swaying from side to side as she struggled to keep up with my pace.
We crossed into the underbrush and continued through the little path I had beaten through the trees. There was a little stretch of barbwire fence that I’d broken through during my trip out here and we passed by it easily. I felt a rush of adrenaline pulsing through my body, the hot little pain in my arm already forgotten. I had my quarry. I had what M wanted…
I couldn’t help but laugh as I lead the old cow deeper into the woods. It was a frantic, relief-laced laugh. I detected the slightest edge of lunacy in it…and that worried me greatly.
My laughter was greeted by the distant bellow of the bull from somewhere far behind us.
Chapter 29
I walked her through that little stretch of woods and she came without ever questioning the fate that might await her. She trusted me, this old cow. She lowed and she plodded forward and at one point she even reached out with her rough tongue to lick the side of my hand. That had a bigger effect on me than I ever could have expected. The panicked amusement I felt after fleeing the field had departed.
It was being replaced by guilt, the weight of that guilt becoming heavier with each step we took towards the root cellar. I kept telling myself that there was no other way. If I defied M now it would undoubtedly mark the end of our “covenant”…and a part of me knew that it might mark the end of me and everything I cherished as well. There was too much to risk. I’d promised to do this. It was my cross to bear.