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“No thanks.” Simmi smiles.
“Thank you.” I take the glass of water, sipping deeply.
“Well then, let’s get on with it. What palaver are you wanting to sell me today?” Mickey scoffs.
“How about we chat while Simone takes your blood pressure?” I know that bombarding the man with a healthcare plan will alienate Mickey even more. I need to earn the man’s trust. He’s been pulled through the ringer.
Simmi places her medical bag on the table and takes out her sphygmomanometer.
“So, fill me in. I’m new here and need to discover some of the obvious.” I work on giving him my warmest, manliest smile.
“What you want to know?”
The man rolls up his sleeve for Simmi not breaking eye contact with me. From the corner of my eye, I can see Alisha standing huddled against the door frame watching us. She is still mourning the loss of her mother and the worry over her father is clear as day, but there’s something else about her. Perhaps I’m reading too much into the entire situation, but my instincts have never let me down. I’ll have a good chat with Simmi on the way home. But for now, I need to focus on Mickey.
“Have you always lived here?”
“Yup.” He nods.
“What do you farm?” I ask.
Mickey looks up at Simmi, then to the cuff which tightens around his upper arm then back to me.
“Brahman.”
“Ah. They’re popular where I come from, too.” My father and grandfather had been cattle farmers. “My dad having owned one of the largest western cape Brahman stations in the country, before his livelihood had been stripped off him by a corrupt government.”
“And you? Ever farm? Or you just think you know more because you’re a doctor?” Mickey said, his disdain obvious.
“Papa.” His daughter chides from the kitchen entrance.
Mickey ignores her and keeps his iron gaze pinned on me.
“Not at all. I do know my father had a jumping bull. Damn thing was his prize stud but couldn’t leave the neighbor’s cows in peace. Had to shoot him in the end. Damn shame.” I shake his head at the memory.
A glint flashes across Mickey’s eyes followed by the merest indication of a smile. “Got me one of them, too. When you’re done investigating me, we can go take a look.”
Breakthrough!
“BP is one forty over ninety.” Simmi turns the screen toward Jay.
“Well then, want to show me your bull?” I stand, not making any mention of the evidence of Mickey’s prehypertensive reading.
We stroll out to the paddocks. Alisha skulking behind us. I notice a red Jerri can standing outside one of the sheds. It’s obviously holding fuel.
“Probably don’t want to leave that standing around.” I point out, then mentally kick myself for doing so when I see Mickey’s gaze take flame as he turns on his daughter.
“Alisha!” Mickey yells. “What in the hell is this doing here? You want to burn us down, too.”
His words ride a chill up my spine, but I dismiss it when Alisha trots past and grabs the can.
“Sorry, Papa,” she said, and goes to put it back inside the shed.
“This is Ogromny.” Mickey leans with his arms on the wooden palings of the arena. “It’s polish for giant.”
“I can see why,” Simmi says, joining us.
The beast is the size of a small truck.
