Page 64 of Talk to Me

“I think Berta, Laurel, and Hardy are all safe,” I said. “The horses are safe. But the cows and chickens all eventually end up as part of the cycle.”

“That’s strange,” Theo said.

“Why?” I asked. “Everything on this earth is part of the cycle. Is it better that an animal is raised merely for slaughter so a restaurant can serve fast food? I mean, at least here the animals live long, full lives, and then end it by nourishing another animal so that it can keep on living. I mean, we don’t necessarily raise any animals for food—Dad grows corn and soybeans—but the animals we have aren’t wasted when they’re no longer able to thrive.”

“I mean, I guess,” Theo said, then gaped as we passed the corn harvester parked away for the season. “Jeez.”

I looked up at the machine.

“Yeah,” I said. “For the corn harvesting.”

“That thing looks like something out of Final Destination.”

I laughed loudly. As we approached the back of the barn, I could hear scuffling and mumbled curses, and I knew we’d found my dad. Sure enough, when we got near the backdoor of the barn, Theo and I stumbled upon him. He was in the back corner of the barn, his back turned to us, fiddling with something. As we drew close, I could tell he was struggling with a propane tank, annoyed at how tightly a hose was fitted to it.

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

Jerking upright, Dad spun, a wrench in his hand. Theo squeaked out a terrified squeal. Laughing, I looked from Theo to my dad. Realizing that the raised wrench looked menacing, Dad gave an amused grin and lowered his arm.

“Well,” Dad said, “don’t just fiddle-fart around. Get over here. Hold this thing.”

“Okay,” I said.

I shuffled over and grabbed ahold of the propane tank, holding it steady. Dad took to the hose with the wrench, twisting and grunting.

“Geeeee-zus!” he groaned as he finally loosened the hose from the regulator. “I don’t know what the hell we did last time we used the fryer, but that sucker did not want to get off there.”

I let go of the empty propane tank and brushed my hands on my jeans.

“Well, when you put a new tank on there, don’t tighten it so much,” I said. “Who are you trying to impress anyway?”

“Buster did it!” Dad exclaimed. “Not me. He doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose.”

“Must be genetic,” I said. “Thank God it skips a generation.”

Dad made a goofy face and reached out to ruffle my hair. I swatted his hand away and we both laughed.

“How ya’ doin’, kid?” he asked, slipping the wrench into his hip pocket before picking up the deep fryer that was no longer attached to the propane tank. “Grab the tank, would ya’?”

I grabbed the tank and followed Dad as he led us back the way we had come through the barn.

“Who are you?” Dad asked as we passed Theo, but didn’t stop walking.

I laughed as Theo fell in behind us.

“Theo, sir,” Theo said nervously.

“He’s my friend from school,” I said. “Mom surely told you.”

Dad waggled his head. “Surely told me. Glad they’re teaching you to talk fancy for what you’re to go there.”

Laughing again, I said, “Theo’s parents went out of town for Thanksgiving, so I invited him here to eat with us.”

“That was mighty kind of ya’,” Dad said as we trudged along. “Are you that gay fella Evie talks about so much?”

Theo didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, sputtering behind us.

“I’m the gay fella Evie talks about so much,” I said, making Dad laugh. “But yes, Theo is on that social media site, Peepers?”