F&F

Prompt: Center your story around a character who has to destroy something they love.

F&F

I am a farmer’s son from central Illinois. My playground growing up was acre upon acre of corn fields.To overstate the obvious, my father and mother constantly engaged themselves in the business of corn. They figured they would pass it all down to my brother and me after they left this earth. I guess one could consider it a sizable fortune as my parents’ barn and garage were filled with heavy equipment, like a multiple corn head harvester, multiple row cultivators, ground prep harrows, and lots and lots of irrigation piping. My parents did not see it that way. It would be fortuitous to find someone who would be willing to buy second hand farm equipment if the farm went under. Secondly, the yields were way down over the past several years. I could read the concern on my dad’s face, particularly this year. They knew any more drought and blight could quickly wipe away their finances.

However, my parents knew that farming was more than just corn. They held dear their commitment to God, the family, and the farm. Undaunted by the unpredictability of the weather, they formulated a plan. With that in mind, when my brother and I were tender stalks at the ages of 10 and 11, they invested in a few farm animals to augment the farm income. They purchased a few cows, pigs, chickens, and a goat. A few months later, they decided to add a menagerie of six sheep including a ram for breeding and other reasons that were not revealed to us at the time. I surmised that one of them might have been for entertainment value as sheep can act hilariously. Unfortunately, my brother got the privilege of naming them. Out of the lot, two of them, a ram, and an ewe, really interested me. My brother had named them Stan and Maude. They really seemed to hit it off together. Stan was literally always on top of Maude. He seemed to exert his dominance over the other sheep, but nevertheless all the sheep still stayed huddled together as one flock.

Truth be told, maybe I liked Stan and Maude because they displayed some behaviors quite like mom and dad.Stan is stubborn and bucks at the slightest touch even being covered with a blanket. My dad is obstinate now that he is older and protests at wearing a suit and tie any day of the week including Sundays at church. Stan loves grazing on the quality grass and mom’s flowers.My dad loves to snarf down my mom’s cooking and enjoys grazing on junk food while watching television after working in the fields all day. Stan, the ram, often showcases his power and energy in front of the flock. This is like my dad who is up at the crack of dawn every day tending to the fields and ready to steamroll all of his daily chores.

Maude is a typical gentle sheep. She leisurely grazes on the small prairie near the farm house. When Maude and Stan are together, Maude is very attentive to Stan’s presence. My mom dotes on my dad after his arduous day in the fields. Plus, she is patient and kind to him even when he is beside himself fretting about the hassles of corn farming when the corn tasseled too soon.This is no pun and means the corn crop is not going to be fully mature. My dad enters a fit of self-deprecation for planting too early or not getting the irrigation pipes out soon enough.

Anyway, my brother and I had little time to enjoy ourselves. After school we had our list of chores to do. When I did get free time, I spent it watching the foibles of Stan and Maude.When Maude was only interested in grazing, Stan would get annoyed bucking Maude somewhat hard to make her pay attention to him. Stan and Maude continued with their antics. For a while Stan ignored Maude since he was paying more attention to the other four ewes in the flock. In a rare moment, one day Maude head-butted Stan clear into next week (remember she had no horns. So this must have hurt her as well.) He looked dazed and confused not knowing what had happened. My hunch was Maude got jealous of Stan. I told my dad about Maude’s temperament. He just smiled at me saying Maude was most likely in heat.Being almost a teenager, I did not want to let on that I did not know what that was. My brother was quick to fill me in on the mechanics of sheep play.

It was five months later that I really understood the outcome of an ewe in heat. Maude and Stan had become the proud (or so I guessed) parents of two young ewes. This time I demanded the naming rights. Each of them looked like huge balls of puffy, soft wool. I could barely see their heads and tiny feet when they moved around Maude. I had to admit they were so adorable and innocent looking. I decided to call them Fluffy and Fuzzy. Both spent their time bumping each other in the head like they were competing for ‘king of the hill’. I had such a riotous time playing and holding them. They played like little cotton puffs bumping into each other. I laughed so hard Stan came running toward me ready to buck me into next week. I avoided him by jumping out of the way like a Spanish matador.

About a month after the F&F twins were born, the four other ewes in the flock started having lambs of their own. They, too, were delightful and fun to watch. None of them could compare to Fluffy and Fuzzy, because they were the first lamb kids to join the farm. The farm was experiencing in exponential growth of sheep which made my parents decide to invest in more ewes and another ram. I could sense that stan was not happy about having another ram carousing his ewe harem.

Meanwhile, F&F continued to grow as the months passed. It was amazing to see how quickly they grew because of the corn feed that I fed them from our farm. Those cotton puff shapes turned into large walking clouds of puffed wool. I was so happy to spend time with them. I taught them a few tricks as well. For starters they learned how to walk on just their hind legs. It was a sight to behold and so easy to teach them. When one would try it, the other twin would do the same.Another trick I taught them was how to bleat ‘Bah, bah black sheep’ in unison. I trained F&F to round up the other lambs like they were sheep dogs guarding the flock. They were really good at it too. Oh, the things I did with those lambs to amuse myself!

Unfortunately, my dad never understood my interactions with Fluffy and Fuzzy. He was a farmer who had responsibilities to his family and to his creditors. His start-up business with the sheep had taken off. There were over 100 lambs now on the farm. The corn quality was poor again because of the flooding this Spring. With Easter just a few weeks away, it was timely that the number had increased.

My father felt it was time to level with my brother and I about a major reason for having the sheep.We had certainly guessed it was more than for our entertainment. Over the months, we had collected sheep milk, shorn their coats for the wool, and used them to keep the weeds low around the farm yard and in the uncultivated fields.Today he told us that he and our mom were selling the lambs for veal before they got to be twelve months old because veal was a favorite meat at Eastertime. My dad said the younger the better the veal tasted. I had purposely ignored the lambs use as a meat source. When dad shared this information, I got sick to my stomach. I had bonded closely with Fluffy and Fuzzy. My mom knew how attached I had become to them. She also knew my dad would be in no mood to assuage a tender boy’s heart by saving two lambs from the slaughter. Fluffy and Fuzzy would be butchered for their veal as well as six other lambs. My father said it was all done to help pay for our livelihood on the farm. It was the beginning of our future to survive when the crops were failing.

What made matters worse was my brother and I were tasked by our father to learn how to exsanguinate the lambs in preparation for the butcher market now and into the future. I was heartbroken hearing what that meant. I tried to understand the ruthlessness behind my actions as I separately bound up the legs of Fluffy and Fluffy. In a single motion, I pierced their jugular veins and watched horrifically as both of my dear lambs bled out. I was catatonic, covered in their blood.

The tears flowed from my eyes as I buried my face deep into my mom’s apron that day. My mom held me close. She lovingly whispered to me about another Lamb who was led to the slaughter on Easter two thousand years ago. This Lamb was no ordinary Lamb she said. It was God’s Son, Jesus, the Lamb of God. She quoted the biblical prophet Isaiah by saying,

“But He was pierced for our transgressions,

He was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on Him,

and by His wounds we are healed.’ (53:5, NIV)

He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth” (53:7, NIV)

“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace.” (Ephesians 1:7, NIV)

-END-

“For God so loved the world He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16, NIV)

NIV=New International Version

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com prompts