Chapter 12

Farm Life

The sound of a blaring alarm woke Sylvie from her sleep. As she stretched, she glanced at the alarm clock. In flashing red it showed 6:30 AM. No wonder it felt so early to her. With all that's been happening to her lately, she had been sleeping in later and later. It was a shock having to get up before the sun showed over the horizon again.

She got carefully off the mattresses that served as her bed. She didn't want to get dirt and gunk from her hooves on them. Checking herself in the mirror, she saw that her short red hair was in a rat's nest of tangles. Sighing theatrically, she went to her bag and grabbed a comb. Straightening out the tangles was painful work, but by the time she put her brush away, her hair had taken its customary place under her favorite headband. Dressing in a t-shirt that read, Born to Play, she reflected how nice it would be to take a shower. Tubs made for humans were not suited to washing a centaur. The only other alternative was a garden hose, and it was simply too cold to even consider that option. There's no point in crying about what we can't change. Finished, she walked out of her stall and glanced at Taryn's stall. She was just emerging, having gone through a similar routine. Sylvie thought that the dark circles under her eyes from yesterday had diminished somewhat. Sylvie fervently hoped that it the hard work Mrs. Brodrick had planned would bury the loss that she must be feeling.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Sylvie asked cautiously. She held her breath and mentally began kicking herself. That question might just launch Taryn back into her melancholies.

Indeed, Taryn did look a bit upset, but her voice was steady as she replied "Fine." Behind her, Sylvie could see her tail swishing in agitation. With a start, she realized hers was going as well. Traitorous tail! It kept showing her nervousness, even when she didn't want it to show. There had to be a way of getting it under her control. She resolved to work on it.

The two girls walked over to the office that was squashed in the corner of the barn near the stalls. On the way in last night she had completely missed seeing it. Today, she could see that it was not a place that she wanted to work in. It was basically a small wooden box with a couple of windows in the walls. The roof would come to about chest height on her. Good enough for a human, she mused, but not her now that she had finished filling out into a horse's frame.

Whether the building was too small or just right didn't matter right now. Set in a buffet style was a table laden with the most tasty treats Sylvie had seen in a very long time. There were bowls of oatmeal and stacks of pancakes. Pitchers of lemonade and water, plus one she thought might be full of milk. Two chairs were set next to one another near one end of the table, and Mr. and Mrs. Brodrick were already seated.

"It's about time you got up dears." Mrs. Brodrick said gently. "I was just about to send John to get you." She gestured to the empty side of the table, where two empty platters sat amongst all the food. "Hurry to your places. We need to say Grace before we get started."

Sylvie and Taryn hurried to their places, the sounds of their hooves ringing loudly in the empty barn. When Mrs. Brodrick was satisfied that they were situated, she started.

"Oh heavenly Father, we thank you for these Gifts that you lay before us, through Thy Bounty, through Christ Our Lord, Amen."

Lifting her head up, she released Mr. Brodrick's hand and the two began helping themselves to the stacks of pancakes. Sylvie was touched at the prayer, for some reason she couldn't fathom. Her own parents were not particularly big on Grace or other prayers, although she supposed it was different out here. Shrugging it off, she reached for the large bowl of oatmeal nearest her. She dipped her spoon in and put it in her mouth. Honey and cinnamon exploded on her tongue, as well as the taste of real apples mixed in it. She let out an involuntary groan of ecstasy. This was best oatmeal ever! She saw Taryn in similar excitement. The two grinned at each other and began making the bowls disappear.

At the other end of the table, a conversation was going on about what the girls should do on their first day on the farm. It was meant to be low, but with her sensitive ears she overheard anyway.

"Maybe they can clean up the barn a little before I take them out to the south forty to help me with the harvesting." Mr. Brodrick suggested.

Mrs. Brodrick shook her head in denial. "No, John. You remember what Ben said. These girls are to keep a low profile. Perhaps they can clean the barn up a little. I don't see anything wrong with that. Then maybe we can have them help with the dehorning. We have to bring the cows in here to do that anyway."

Mr. Brodrick looked thoughtful. "Yes. That could work. I had planned on doing that next weekend when I got a little more time. However, with their help, we can definitely do the dehorning today. We should get done with that 'for lunch."

Mrs. Brodrick nodded in a motherly fashion. "They can help me clean up afterwards. And then we can see about getting them a bath. We have that old livestock washer in the back. A couple of new hoses and it'll be ready to go."

Mr. Brodrick nodded in agreement. "That's right. I had almost forgotten about that thing. Well, I'll get started on it after lunch. Should be ready just in time to wash the girls off before bed."

Mrs. Brodrick suddenly noticed Sylvie and Taryn watching them. In front of them were no less than three empty bowls each. That gave her a start and raised eyebrows. "Goodness." She muttered. "I had best cook extra for lunch!"

Mr. Brodrick heard her and looked over at the girls. "Ah." He flushed slightly as he realized that they had been listening in on their conversation. He recovered quickly and nodded briskly to them. "As soon as you girls help clean up you can get started on this barn. The shovel and wheelbarrow are over there near the big door. You can get the floor clean and then straighten the tack in the stall next to yours. Then lay some hay down in each of the pens. There's going to be cattle in them before too much longer." He paused as if deciding whether or not to give them additional instructions. Whatever he saw on their faces evidently made him think twice, for he grunted and left the table heading towards the door.

"Come on girls." Mrsri. Brodrick laughed gently. "This table won't clean itself."

She bustled away with an arm load of dishes, leaving Sylvie and Taryn to clean up. Sylvie glanced at the other centaur and saw the same slightly dazed look that she knew had to be on her face.

"Is this place for real?" Taryn asked jokingly.

"I think it is. I also think that if we don't hurry we are going to get a scolding. Come on." Sylvie replied. Hurriedly gathering the dishes, the two girls ran to the edge of the barn. There they found Mrs. Brodrick near a small trash-bag lined cart.

"There you are. Go ahead and put the dishes in this cart dears. I can take them to the house when you're done."

"Yes ma'am." Said Sylvie as they set their load in the cart. Three trips later all the plates and food were safely stowed and Mrs. Brodrick was cheerfully heading towards the house, leaving the girls in the barn.

"Well, I suppose we had better get started." Taryn said uneasily.

"Yeah." Sylvie echoed. She looked around, remembering the tasks that Mr. Brodrick had wanted done. She wasn't sure if it would be possible to get it all done befoe lunch. The animals all looked at her in their stalls, as if unsure as to what to make of her. There was hay, droppings and things on the floor. Of course, the ever-present smell and noise provided its own stimulus on her. Fortunately, after helpingher uncle and Mr. and Mrs. Brodrick on their farms a couple of summers had readied her for everything.

Sylvie walked to the tools arrayed on the wall. There were shovels, pitchforks, wheelbarrows, and various knives and sharp implements she had no idea about, but was fairly certain she would find out soon. Collecting the shovels and the wheelbarrow, she handed Taryn her shovel and together they cautiously entered the first pen. The large cow inside stared insipidly at them as they began shoveling the detritus into the cart. She kept a sharp eye on the animal, in case it decided it didn't want them near it. Fortunately, the animal didn't seem to care. It kept an eye on them sure, but didn''t seem hostile. In fact, she thought, it seemed to say to her, "so what." A loud plopping sound made her groan. Sure enough, the cow had answered the call of nature right there in front of her. Sighing, she used the shovel to scoop it up. Taryn's shovel clanged into hers. Startled, she saw that Taryn was attempting to scoop up the same pile as her. Giggling, the girls scooped it up together and dumped it in the full wheelbarrow. Finished with the stall, they took the wheelbarrow and took it outside to where a pile sat near the far end of the pen. She dumped it there and then headed back inside.

The rest of the pens passed more or less like the first one. A pen with a large bull in it caused Sylvie some anxiety, and Taryn absolutely refused to go in. Sylvie was stuck with the job. The bull proved to be docile however, and ignored Sylvie completely as she did his pen. When she had finished his, she even gathered the courage to stroke his soft fur before leaving. When they had finished the last of the pens, one with an old cow that had head-butted Sylvie on her side, the girls were surprised to realize that they had done it all before lunch.

The door opened up behind them and Mr. Brodrick's head appeared. "You girls about finished?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yes Mr. Brodrick." Sylvie said wearily. Around her the fruits of their labor could be seen. Mr. Brodrick looked at the clean stalls and nodded in satisfaction.

"That's very good, girls." He said in his slightly reedy voice. "Now, let me show you how to dehorn a bull. You start." He said, walking into the barn and towards a strange contraption set into one wall. "By herding the cows into this here chute. If they give you any trouble, just poke them on the rump to get them moving. Once in the holder, you pull this lever," he demonstrated and the sides of the cage suddenly contracted with a clatter. At the front of the cage, there were two iron bars that swung out and into place.

"What are those for?" Sylvie asked, pointing to them.

"Those trap the critter's head. When he's far enough through, then you pull the lever completely through so's it rests against his head. The feller can't move back or forth much, and you can either give him a shot or whatever else needs to be done. In this case, this is where we'll be doing the de-hornin'." He explained.

It seemed simple enough, although Sylvie was sure that it wouldn't be. There was simply too much she didn't understand. However, she still nodded her willingness to try. Mr. Brodrick nodded and gave the girls a reassuring smile while he went out to bring around the cow. Taryn manned the lever while Sylvie stood in front of the machine to prevent a runaway.

Suddenly, the chute began shaking violently. What the hell was going on? Fear bubbled up inside her. That sounded like a very mean cow. The vibrations worsened as the creature came in sight. Sylvie's legs wobbled and threatened to give as the four thousand pound bull charged right at her, snorting his fury. He was so big! There was no way those puny bars were going to stop that thing! She was sure it would rip through them like tissue paper and then turn her into paste. The light vanished as it entered the cage through the hole in the barn. Taryn threw the lever one notch, and the bars swung in to catch the bull. He snorted his contempt and threw his entire weight forward. He hit the bars with teeth-rattling force. Taryn practically jumped on the lever, closing the second bars to trap his neck. The bull threw his head back and forth, roared and stomped the ground in frustration. He was stuck.

Sylvie let out a sigh of relief when she realized the bull wouldn't trample her. That was too close! Taryn met her gaze and gave a weak smile of relief. They both started as Mr. Brodrick tromped through the human size door set next to the cage.

"Good job girls." He said gruffly. "This here's Old Pete. He's an ornery cuss, so I decided to do him first. We'll get him dehorned and then turn him loose. All right, let's get started."

He went to the wall of neatly arrayed tools and pulled out what looked, for all the world, like a tree limber, almost nipper like. It was much larger though, with a slight bend to the bottom jaws that had a slight scoop to it. He also grabbed what looked like a long poker with a circle on the end. He then started a fire in a portable forge that he dragged out of the office. As the iron heated, Mr. Brodrick opened the jaws of the thing as wide as they could go and set them on the horn. He pulled down with a grunt and the horn fell clean off. Blood spurted out of the wound. Mr. Brodrick reached for a sterilization iron and touched it to the freely bleeding wound. There was a hiss and an angry bellow, and he was done. The Bull glared daggers at Mr. Brodrick while Sylvie tried to keep her gorge down. Taryn didn't look so hot herself. Mr. Brodrick treated it like an everyday matter though. He quickly and efficiently finished dehorning Old Pete and then checked for anything else that might be needed on the bull. Seeing none, he turned back to the girls. "All right. Listen closely. I'm going to open the far door and shoo Old Pete down and out. I'm going to need you to help me. However, be very careful, as he ain't going to be in a friendly mood after what we've done to him." He warned.

Sylvie immediately backed away. She didn't want to be trampled! And she didn't think that Mr. Brodrick could 'shoo' that bull anywhere. However, before she could protest, he opened the gate!

The maddened bull stormed out from the pen, determined for blood. He locked on Sylvie and charged! That maddened bull was coming right for her, like an unstoppable locomotive. Mr. Brodrick was attempting to stop the bull, but he was having none of it. Sylvie barely leaped out of the way in time. "Woah!" she cried, as the bull thundered by. Having lost his target, the bull spun around and saw Taryn. Giving a terrible bellow, he lunged for her, seeming determined to run her down. Without thinking about it, Sylvie threw herself against the flank of the bull, causing it to stumble slightly and lose its footing. With the bull slightly disoriented from the unexpected attack, she knew she would only get one chance to get Old Pete out of the barn. Without pausing to decide if it was a good idea or not, she slapped Pete on his black hide. Startled, Pete turned to face her. Running as fast as she could, she raced for the far door in the barn. Pete was hot on her heels. She could feel the concrete floor beneath her tremble beneath the power of his hooves. The door was in sight! There was the handle. She grasped it and threw it open. The aluminum door squealed in protest but opened beneath her strength. Pete, spying freedom, decided to let her live and ran out the door, heading for green pasture.

Sylvie sagged against the door, about sobbing in relief. That was too close! She turned her head as Taryn galloped up and skidded to a halt.

"Are you all right Sylvie!??" she squealed. Her face was white from fear, Sylvie dimly noticed. And her face had nail marks from where she had clutched it.

Her attention was diverted however when Mr. Brodrick came puffing up. He had followed close behind Sylvie but had come behind all of them to the door. "Young lady." He gasped. "That was very close. Are you all right?"

His face was creased with concern as he looked her over anxiously for some sign of injury. "No Mr. Brodrick." She replied. "Old Pete decided he wanted freedom today instead of my hide. For which I am happy to give him." She gestured to the pasture, where Old Pete was vigorously rubbing his head against a post, as if seeking relief from the pain.

Mr. Brodrick's face relaxed and he broke into a smile. "You run very fast my dear. I was glad Old Pete didn't hurt you. Come on then. No need to be standing there. There are eight more that we have to do today. Fortunately for you, they are less trouble than Old Pete, and we should be done in time for a late lunch."

He headed back into the barn and left Sylvie staring at his retreating back. She almost gets killed by his cow and he treats it like an everyday affair. Farm life had to be duller than this! She glanced at Taryn, looking for help, but her friend simply shook her head and trotted back after Mr. Brodrick. With a sigh, Sylvie followed.

Fortunately, Mr. Brodrick was right and the other cattle were less of a problem. He would bring them out of the pasture one at a time and push them into the chute. Poking and prodding them, he soon had them through the wall and into the cage, where Taryn operated the levers to ensnare the poor animal. Mr. Brodrick would then dehorn the unlucky cow and do anything else the cow might need, like a new ear tag, shots, or such. Then he would release the sore and irritated cow where Sylvie would escort it out of the barn. She was turning into quite the cow pony, she thought, as she escorted another animal out. Everytime the cow would try to make a break, she would surge ahead to cut it off. Pretty soon, all eight animals were peacefully grazing out in the pasture.