*
His father walked just a little ahead of Michael, shining the flashlight on the ground. They climbed over the board gate and into the dark pasture, then walked through the clumps of tall spring grass to where the cows were bedded down. He felt as though they were interrupting a family meeting. Some roused as they came past, their huge rumps rising first, then their shoulders. Others just sat chewing their cud and were so at home that he could touch them gently.
At first they couldn't find her, but when they walked to the far side of the pasture, there was High Pockets, bedded down by herself, grunting softly. His father gave the flashlight to Michael and told him to shine it around her, making sure she was all right. She tried to rise, then sat back gently. His father had him shine the light on her rump to check the swelling. Michael noticed signs of blood but didn't say anything.
"She'll be calving by morning," his father said. They stood there for a while listening to her cow sounds and looking up at the sky which was covered with stars, and the Milky Way almost bright enough to cast a shadow.
"Did you know, Daddy, that our teacher says some people have telescopes they look through that make some of those stars look like little round balls and that some are actually bigger than Earth and that that is what the Earth is, a round ball."
"Well, they know some unbelievable things, Son."
"But, Daddy, wouldn't it be great if we had a big old telescope set up out here in the pasture and we came out and looked up at all the stars and learned all there is to know about them."
"Well, if you think so, I'm sure it would, as long as the cows didn't mind."
"You think she will be okay out here by herself, Daddy? If she has a baby calf, do you think it will be all right, them out here all alone?"
"I'm sure she will, Son. This isn't her first one you know. She knows all about having calves."
"You know, Daddy, I used to think that God made baby calves. And baby people, too."
"Well, I guess we all have to grow up some day, Son."
They made the long walk back to the house, only using the flashlight now and then, and they didn't go back through the herd of cows that were all bedded down. They took the route at the edge of the pasture, using the dim light from the windows of the house to guide them.
Michael woke at daybreak. Doug was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed. It was so early that even the hum of the vacuum pump was missing. He smelled ham cooking and heard his mother in the kitchen. Pulling on his dirty clothes, and shoving his skinny arms down his coat sleeves, he went out quietly through the backdoor. The sun was working its way through the thin ground fog, and the tall lawn grass was wet against his tennis shoes. He strained to see the far side of the pasture. At first he saw nothing, then spotted the head of a cow. She was still down. She didn't have it, he told himself. After he squeezed through the barbed wire fence, he walked slowly through the pasture, avoiding the tall clumps of grass and occasional cow piles while keeping his eyes fixed on High Pockets.
When he drew near, she rose on weak legs and stood facing him. Then he saw it behind her. When he tried to move around her to get a better look, she made a warning run at him. A huge jelly-like puddle lay in the grass. He walked to it, noticing the small veins of blood and the big blue blotches that looked like bruised intestines. Then he saw some more of the afterbirth hanging out her rear end. As he moved toward the calf again, High Pockets moved only her head in response. He made a half circle, moved in on the calf again, then stopped.
"God, you're a tiny critter," he said, noticing its curly, matted hair. The calf blinked at him. From the bulky shape of the calf's head, he though it was probably a bull. He put his head down close to the ground and looked between its rear legs for the tiny pink testicles.
"So you are a bull! God, I bet you'll make a mean one." When he moved toward it, it took a few uneasy steps backward then stopped to look at him. Michael walked on his knees to within arm's reach and noticed how wet the calf was still. Then he put out his hand and felt the stiff sticky hair.
High Pockets stirred and Michael looked up to see his father watching from a few yards away.
"Godamighty, Son, and what do you think you're doing. She'd be on me in a minute if I tried to touch that calf." He was laughing and his face was shining like a full moon.
"I just kept working her, Dad. She don't mind none. Isn't he great, Dad, and he's marked just like his mother." He was talking so loud and fast, the neighbors a mile away could hear him. The baby bull backed off closer to his mother.
"I know, it's about as fine a calf as I've ever seen. What is it anyway? Bull or heifer?"
"Bull, Dad. Bet he's going to be bigger than old man Olson's bull."
"He won't be bigger if you don't leave him alone and let him suck on old High Pockets. Besides, High Pockets may be letting you look him over now, but she's going to get tired of it in a minute."
Michael got to his feet and followed his father back through the pasture, glancing back every few steps.
"Have you told Mother yet, Dad?"
"No, I just drove the cows into the corral and came back to have a look at old High Pockets here myself."
Michael couldn't wait to get back to the house to tell her.
"Can I have him, Dad? You know how much I would like to have my own calf. You gave Doug that one old heifer and even though she didn't turn out to be much, he still liked having her. Even if he did have to sell her when she got grown. Do you think I could have him, Dad? Do you think I could have him just to raise?" He wanted so badly to be able to tell his mother that the new calf was his.
As they passed the house, his father left him and went on to the barn and as Michael walked to the front door, he looked through the window and saw his mother setting the table. She's getting big too, he thought. It won't be long for her either. I wonder if she was that big with me? I wonder why she won't tell me about it? She's probably going to try to tell me the stork lie again and talk some more about God when the baby comes. He heard the vacuum pump come on and realized that his father was late starting milking and that Doug, who usually helped in the morning, was still asleep. He turned away from the door and with head down, walked that short distance separating the house from the barn.
THE END
Walking That Short Distance, Childhood Enlightenment in the '50s Page 6
