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Authors: Marie Sexton
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sick?”
“Not like Zed cheated us or nothing. No way he could’ve known. But yeah, it got sick a few weeks later. Got a few cows fat with him, but then he started swaying like they do, swinging his head. ‘Course that don’t always mean the froth, but you got to isolate them, keep your eye on them. Day or two later, they turn mean. They’ll bust their way right out of the barn if you let them. Ram anything they see—horses, other cows, men.”
“So what do you do?”
“Have to put them down.” Deacon stopped chopping wood to look at Aren. “You ever
shot a gun?”
“No.”
“You ever seen one?”
“In a store once.”
“But have you seen one used?”
“No.”
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
49
“Not as useful as you probably think. Not accurate at all. Saw a guy try to shoot a bull once and hit his own brother instead.” He shook his head. “Even if you hit the damn thing, if you’re too far off, you’re likely to just piss it off more.”
“So what do you do?”
“Got to surround it. Lasso it without being gored. Rope its legs and head, pull it down to the ground. Once it’s secure, someone’s got to get right up next to the blessed thing.” He touched his temple with the tips of his first two fingers. “Got to put the barrel right against its head.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yup.” Deacon picked up his axe again and went back to chopping. “Seen men killed
more than once.”
“So you need a new hand, a new bull, a new baler…” Aren thought about the books
and how much money he thought they had. “Anything else?”
“Sure wouldn’t mind a damn bottle of whisky.”
Aren laughed. “Well, that I think we can afford.”
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
50
Chapter Six
The next day, after breakfast, Aren found himself with a whole day of free time. For the first time since arriving in Oestend, he took out his sketchpad and the leather bundle that held his penknife and pencils. He tucked them under his arm and walked out of the barracks, into the courtyard. Now that he actually had time to devote to drawing, he realised that outside the courtyard, he didn’t know his way around the ranch. He had no idea where to go. He looked around. Nobody was in the courtyard except the kids and some dogs. His eyes landed on the abandoned house.
The house seemed to call to him. It sat away from the hustle of the courtyard, on top of a small hill, its windows dark. It looked forlorn.
Aren climbed the gentle slope to the bottom of the porch steps. The steps themselves
were grey and sagging in the middle. The entire structure was in need of paint. Still, Aren imagined it was lonely.
He climbed the steps. The front door had a long, narrow window next to it, and Aren
peered inside. The glass was thick and cloudy, but he could see a narrow entryway. There was a doorway on the left and a staircase against the wall on the right, and between them, a corridor leading towards the back of the house. There was one other window on the front of the house, and Aren peeked into it as well. It showed him a room with a bare wooden floor and one wall taken up by a large fireplace. There appeared to be furniture in the room, too, hidden under tattered horse blankets and dusty sheets.
He thought again of what Deacon had said about it—that it was haunted. It seemed
absurd. He couldn’t help but think it really had been a prank. And yet, why else would it be sitting here vacant while the inhabitants of the BarChi crowded themselves into the other buildings?
The main house was off-limits to Aren. He was reluctant to intrude on Deacon’s privacy in the barn. He thought about having to go back to the barracks, where boisterous boys played their ridiculous games. Why should he sleep with them when there was a perfectly good house available?
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
51
It took some searching, but he finally located Jeremiah mucking out stalls in the barn.
“Don’t you have hands to do
“Not like Zed cheated us or nothing. No way he could’ve known. But yeah, it got sick a few weeks later. Got a few cows fat with him, but then he started swaying like they do, swinging his head. ‘Course that don’t always mean the froth, but you got to isolate them, keep your eye on them. Day or two later, they turn mean. They’ll bust their way right out of the barn if you let them. Ram anything they see—horses, other cows, men.”
“So what do you do?”
“Have to put them down.” Deacon stopped chopping wood to look at Aren. “You ever
shot a gun?”
“No.”
“You ever seen one?”
“In a store once.”
“But have you seen one used?”
“No.”
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
49
“Not as useful as you probably think. Not accurate at all. Saw a guy try to shoot a bull once and hit his own brother instead.” He shook his head. “Even if you hit the damn thing, if you’re too far off, you’re likely to just piss it off more.”
“So what do you do?”
“Got to surround it. Lasso it without being gored. Rope its legs and head, pull it down to the ground. Once it’s secure, someone’s got to get right up next to the blessed thing.” He touched his temple with the tips of his first two fingers. “Got to put the barrel right against its head.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yup.” Deacon picked up his axe again and went back to chopping. “Seen men killed
more than once.”
“So you need a new hand, a new bull, a new baler…” Aren thought about the books
and how much money he thought they had. “Anything else?”
“Sure wouldn’t mind a damn bottle of whisky.”
Aren laughed. “Well, that I think we can afford.”
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
50
Chapter Six
The next day, after breakfast, Aren found himself with a whole day of free time. For the first time since arriving in Oestend, he took out his sketchpad and the leather bundle that held his penknife and pencils. He tucked them under his arm and walked out of the barracks, into the courtyard. Now that he actually had time to devote to drawing, he realised that outside the courtyard, he didn’t know his way around the ranch. He had no idea where to go. He looked around. Nobody was in the courtyard except the kids and some dogs. His eyes landed on the abandoned house.
The house seemed to call to him. It sat away from the hustle of the courtyard, on top of a small hill, its windows dark. It looked forlorn.
Aren climbed the gentle slope to the bottom of the porch steps. The steps themselves
were grey and sagging in the middle. The entire structure was in need of paint. Still, Aren imagined it was lonely.
He climbed the steps. The front door had a long, narrow window next to it, and Aren
peered inside. The glass was thick and cloudy, but he could see a narrow entryway. There was a doorway on the left and a staircase against the wall on the right, and between them, a corridor leading towards the back of the house. There was one other window on the front of the house, and Aren peeked into it as well. It showed him a room with a bare wooden floor and one wall taken up by a large fireplace. There appeared to be furniture in the room, too, hidden under tattered horse blankets and dusty sheets.
He thought again of what Deacon had said about it—that it was haunted. It seemed
absurd. He couldn’t help but think it really had been a prank. And yet, why else would it be sitting here vacant while the inhabitants of the BarChi crowded themselves into the other buildings?
The main house was off-limits to Aren. He was reluctant to intrude on Deacon’s privacy in the barn. He thought about having to go back to the barracks, where boisterous boys played their ridiculous games. Why should he sleep with them when there was a perfectly good house available?
SONG OF OESTEND
Marie Sexton
51
It took some searching, but he finally located Jeremiah mucking out stalls in the barn.
“Don’t you have hands to do
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