A Trip to the Stockyards

"Pa! Pa!" Fred barged into Pa's room, tobacco juice dripping off his chin. "I got the cows loaded in the truck!"

Pa opened first his left eye, then the right. What was the idiot saying? "You did what, boy?"

"I used Chuck's corral to load the cows in the truck all by myself!"

Oh, jeez, thought Pa, he's off his rocker. "Which ones?"

"The two steers and the bum heifers."

Well, thought Pa, at least he thinks he got the right cows in. "All right, boy, go knock on your cousin's door and see if he wants to come along. Tell him you'll give him $200. He designed that crazy fence there in the corral."

"It works fine, Pa."

"Yeah." Pa didn't think much of Chuck, his fence, or his side of the family. He was related to Ma's first husband, a shiftless, worthless son of a--well, banker, actually. So he and Fred weren't really cousins, but it was too hard to explain to Fred how they were or were not related. Fred wasn't too bright, finished only the tenth grade, by which time he was almost twenty. Pa had only finished the eighth grade, but that was back in the days when an eighth-grade education meant you'd actually learned something.

Fred banged on Chuck's door, which was to a lean-to on the back side of the barn. Pa had intended it to be a second woodshed, but in fact never used it as such. Chuck went in and put in running water, using a garden hose he'd bought from the hardware store; and he used a couple of extension cords to hook up lights from the house. Pa didn't like it, but Chuck didn't use too much electricity, and he paid for more than his share, according to Ma, so Pa kept his mouth shut.

"What's up, Fred? You get those cows loaded?"

"Yep! Wanna come along to the stockyards? Pa says I gotta give you $200 if you do!"

"When you goin'?" Chuck was still half asleep.

"Reckon soon as Pa gets ready."

Three cigarettes and a cup or two of coffee. That's half an hour, thought Chuck. "Okay, I'll be out in a little while. You know how your Pa has to take his time getting up."

Pa was on his second cigarette before his first cup of coffee. He warmed up some leftover bacon in the microwave. He toasted some stale bread, complaining about Ma's lack of shopping. She was still in her bedroom/"sewing" room, probably knitting something for someone in the family who didn't want or need it. Pa knocked on her door. "Ma, Fred says he loaded the cows into the truck. We're gonna take them up to the stockyards today."

"When ya leavin'?" Ma bellered.

"Soon's I can get ready. Chuck's comin' too, if he wants."

"Stop at the store and get some milk and eggs, bread too." Ma and Pa barely saw or spoke to each other anymore. Ma got fat when she quit smoking, and couldn't stand the smell of Pa's smokes. Funny, Pa would think, she smoked like a stove for twenty-five years; now she can't stand it. The result was that they were no longer sexually attracted to each other, so Fred was an only child. Considering how he turned out, it was probably just as well.

Pa drove the truck, Fred sat in the middle, Chuck rode shotgun. The truck had to ford a creek as it left the cow pasture, then stop at a gate before continuing on up to the road. Chuck got out and opened the gate, then closed it again after the truck had gone through. The truck stopped at an awkward position, and the cattle began to get restless with their awkward footing. Pa shouted some cusswords at the animals, then put the truck in gear as it found its way onto the county road.

The county road ended at the junction with a secondary state highway, which in turn interchanged with the Interstate. One of the heifers, whose tail was caught in the endgate, dumped her last meal onto the freeway as the truck approached the city. Chuck helped Pa navigate the freeways to the stockyards on the other side of town. The truck entered the yards and backed up to the loading chute.

"Stay inside till we get done with all the weighin'," said a stern-faced man. The truck rocked as the cattle regained what they thought was their freedom. A few minutes later, the stern-faced man came back. "Take this ticket over to the office. You'll get your check there."

A half-hour later, the three of them were back in the truck, looking for a bank where Fred could cash his check. "There should be one in the supermarket just down the street here," said Chuck.

"You sure it ain't just a machine?" asked Pa.

"No, this bank has branches inside most of these supermarkets. See? There it is."

Pa pulled his truck into the parking lot, and the three went into the store. Sure enough, there was a bank, with live tellers and everything. Fred filled out a deposit slip (with his Pa's help), and soon Chuck and Pa each had a couple hundred dollars in their pocket. Fred bought beer and potato chips, while Pa bought eggs, milk and bread. Chuck went to a thrift shop next door and bought a T-shirt, a jacket, and two miniskirts.

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