Vagabond - part 2: Labors of Hercules

Vagabond - part 2: Labors of Hercules I am no stranger to the pitchfork. There is something rewarding in the repetitive action of scooping up heaping forkfuls of dung-laden straw, then heaving them onto the growing manure pile. There was plenty of fresh straw to put down as bedding for the horse and the two cows to cushion their hooves. I disturbed a hen with a clutch of 3 eggs which I set aside for later. After about an hour in the sweltering heat of the barn I removed my shirt and hanged it on a nail by the door. The barnyard cat came over to me once to rub against my legs in acknowledgment of my presence in her unquestioned territory. I reflected, while I worked, on the past year's events. Madeline and I had established a comfortable business in New Mexico, or so I had thought. I was so blithely unaware of the undercurrents and the affair she was having with my partner. I don't know what pernicious whim of fate left her journal open to that damning page. The talk of steamy sex and the plans to kill me for the insurance money - an "accident" it would seem - was like a solid kick to the gut. Going home and finding them together was the clincher and confirmation that it was true. Harvey had come at me with a knife - and in the struggle I took a gash on my left arm, leaving a scar. I managed to fend him off, but as we tumbled to the ground the knife turned and cleanly pierced his chest with fatal results. Madeline seemed unconcerned and said she would send me to jail for murder now, and she would still collect insurance and inherit the business. I chose to leave then, to become a fugitive and start a new life wherever my feet would take me. ...She was standing in the barn door, quiet and cool, I don't know for how long. "You work fine for a city feller." she said, "C'mon in now, lunch is ready." I put on my shirt and collected up the eggs I had found and followed her. Biscuits and gravy, hash browns, pork belly bacon, and coffee - thick as molasses - I dug in. "Thank you, ma'am." I said. "I'll finish in the barn and then be on my way. I 'preciate your hospitality." "No need to hurry off," she said. "I could use a hand 'round here for a few days. Cain't pay much, but there's plenty of food, and I've got some clean clothes might fit you. They're left from when my husband died. 'Pears you might clean up real fine." -to be continued- 3/24/2002 Written March 24th, 2002 © on Mar 24 2002 10:42 AM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl    0 • 10