I pointed toward the enormous pasture behind me and the barn.“He’s that way?”
“Just behind the big barn.You won’t be able to miss him.”She paused and squinted.“I can faintly hear the Italian swear words on the wind if I focus.”
“Okay …” I spun around and took off at a steady lope, around the big barn and through the gate.
Several horses, including a cute little black foal, stopped to stare at me as I jogged past them.I rounded the corner where, sure enough, there was Tom, with his arms around a struggling donkey’s neck, as he attempted to free the braying beast from where its head was caught between the fence wires.
“Need a hand?”I asked, reaching them and slowing my roll when the donkey’s eyes widened in fear at my approach.It started to struggle more.
“Si.Just don’t get kicked.”He tightened his grip on the animal’s neck.“Stronzo.Stop.I am helping you.Stop!”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Widen the wires.I cannot do that and keep him still and from biting and kicking me.I am not an octopus.Pull them apart and shove his stupid head through while I pull.”
My head bobbed, and I stepped forward, ready to pitch in.The donkey struggled even more, kicking his back feet and thrashing his head.He reared up and the loudclunksound of his head smashing into Tom’s chin echoed on the breeze.“You okay?”I asked him.
“Si.I will cry later.We do this now.”
“Okay.”I grabbed the wires for the fence, which were surprisingly rigid, and tried to pull them apart.“How the hell did he get his head between them?This isn’t very flexible.”
“Because he wishes to die.He wishes to die by stupidity.Stronzo!”
The wires dug into my palms as I tried to pry them wider to get the donkey’s head through.But they wouldn’t bend enough.Maybe I needed a better angle.I stopped to give my hands a break and climbed over the fence so that I was on the other side and only had Piñata’s teeth to contend with.The wire was still too stiff.
“Just push,” Tom said, grunting and growling as the donkey continued to fight him.“He will squish.Like toothpaste.Maybe be a little deformed.That’s on him.”
“Hang on.I have an idea.”I pulled off my black T-shirt with the mountain graphic on it and wrapped it around the top wire.Then I climbed up onto the fence and stood on the wire below the donkey’s head.
“Be careful.Do not lose your life for this idiot.”
“I’ll be fine.”I leaned forward to let the top wooden cross post of the fence support my shins, then pulled up on the top wire, using my shirt to keep my hands from getting injured and create more surface area.My feet kept the wire down, and with both hands pulling up on the wire, it actually moved and Tom was able to free the donkey.
Piñata took off out into the pasture, bucking and kicking his hind legs.He sprinted past us and gave an obnoxious,hee-hawbefore galloping off to the top of the field.
I jumped down and tugged my shirt back over my head before climbing over to the other side with Tom.
Sweat dripped from his temples and hairline, and his white T-shirt was filthy, but he was smiling.“Why I keep him …” he mused, shaking his head.“He is nothing but trouble.Terrorizes all the other animals.Terrorizes me.Terrorized the neighbors.”Then he chuckled.“Though, that was funny.Ate Mrs.Principal’s tulips.The red ones because apparently purple tulips are for whores.”
“What?”
Laughing, he slapped me on the shoulder and guided me back toward the house.“That is what she told me when I said I would replace the flowers my donkey ate.That I could only buy her red ones because purple tulips were for harlots.”
“Is that actually a thing?I’ve never heard that before.”
“That’sherthing.She was as crazy as her husband.I bought the purple ones for Danica.”
I choked on my spit.
“Not because she is a whore.But because she was there when Mrs.Principal said this, and it was funny to us both.”
He opened the gate for me, and I stepped through.“Quite the security system you have here.Is it actually necessary?”
Then he proceeded to tell me all about the massive invasions of privacy he had endured earlier this year, extrapolating on what Naomi had already told me.Then he told me what the McEvoys experienced last year with privacy invasion and why had increased their security as well.Needless to say, I was contemplating hiring a twenty-four-seven guard to stand at the top of the driveway now.
Mabel was on the porch when we reached it, hugging her sketchpad and phone to her chest.“How’d it go, kiddo?”
“Good.The osprey is doing better.They have it under a heat lamp and are feeding it canned salmon mash.”
