No bull

Short story

Slight yet sturdy was the youngest brother Mellick. He has been working in the fields since a young calf of only three years. His older brother Omnick was his role model even though their father was never too far away. Their father had several families that he looked after and was often preoccupied with work, work that required the help of all of his sons. Mellick had a front row seat to see how his father shifted and moved in different atmospheres. In his grandparents’ house Mellick’s father- who everyone called Conntry was overbearing and domineering. He ruled with an iron fist to ensure that his kin that still lived there were pulling their weight. On this steamy August morning Conntry opened the door to his parents’ house, followed closely by Mellick and his older brother Omnick.

“Where are the servers?” he spoke, his voice boomed and rattled the table where plates and cups lay askew. His parents sat alone, the remaining chairs bare. It was an unusual scene. In Mellick’s thirteen years upon the earth he never remembered entering his grandparents’ home and seeing an empty seat- let alone two. His grandmother, Mrs. Watersmoo spoke before her husband could lift his hove.

“Son, before you do what I know you will do, sit for a moment, will you please?” her voice was shaken and her face weary. Mellick shot a look at his father who had begun raising his head. He walked closer towards the large wooden table. The only sound in the room was the loud clank of his hooves and the resounding clatter of the plates and cups that jumped and chimed up and down as he continued. Ominick took a step back, followed by Mellick to make more room as their father’s wide body moved smoothly past them.