Page 14 of Forever Foolish

“Yes.”

“It’s downhill from here, kiddo. You’ll be fine. Let’s drag this beast onto the table. I’ve already got the meat grinder mounted because they want as much ground meat as possible this year with a few roasts. We’ll part this one out, remove the sinew, and any stray hairs. You want to use anything that is considered tougher parts of the animal, the neck, the shank, and so on. Watch me, and then you can take over.”

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely, realizing that this was a part of his life now.

“We’re going to use everything – the cold fat, the heart, the stomach lining and…”

“Don’t tell me,” J.J. grimaced. “I like to eat the stuff; let’s just get to work.”

“You got it, kiddo.”

Eight hours later,J.J. had never been so horribly exhausted. He had cut, wrapped, processed, and tied so many steaks, roasts, packaged ground meat, made summer sausage, and so on. It was grueling work that was done behind the scenes. He had no clue how much spice, cheese, additives, and extras Mr. Murray went through. It wasn’t a ‘dash of oregano’ for the recipe – it was ‘add one container and mix well. They weren’t dealing with a half-pound of meat; it waspounds.

As they were processing the animals, more were being dropped off. Mr. Murray was taking orders, giving prices, and quoting approximate time frames that seemed crazy quick considering how many they still had to go through – and he understood why Mr. Murray needed an apprentice.

This wasn’t as simple as visiting the grocery store. Hewasthe grocery store for some families. They would eat on what he prepared for months at a time, which meant that things had to slow down at some point. Today had been eye-opening as he discovered how the seasons changing applied to him. There would be smoking of salmon after the fishing season, duck hunting, quail and pheasant, before they went through this nightmarish ‘cash-cow’ of carcasses… literally.

It was staggering to see how muchmoney was coming into the butcher shop – and they had barely touched on the taxidermy portion so far. The crazy thing was that people supplied the meat, and he charged them to clean it up and make it look like what you found at the supermarket. They paid hundreds to get their meat neatly cut, cleaned, and processed, tied into neat little brown paper packages to be tossed in the freezer – and Mr. Murray had a relationship with each of them, introducing him proudly, almost like he was a son.

Heading home, J.J. looked down to see that his sneakers were covered in gore, and so were the lower leg of his jeans. Dialing his mother, who had a sensitive stomach, he realized that he was truly becoming his own man, his own person, who needed some space – and how would Chloe react to this new line of work? Would she be disgusted?

“Mom? Hey, it’s me…”

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did your truck break down or…”

“Can you open the back door for me – and go wait in the living room?”

“Why? Are you hurt or…”

“Mom, trust me on this one. I need a shower before I enter the house and since that isn’t going to happen,” he chuckled and let her draw her own conclusions from his words.

“Ohhh. Yup. I’m on it. How far are you from the house?”

“About three minutes.”

“Sounds good.”

Sure enough, he was pulling up a few minutes later and saw his mother opening the back door to the house and unlocking the screen. She waved at him in the truck, where he remained in the driver’s seat until she was out of sight,and then he got out, wincing as his shoes made a weird squishing sound from the water hose used to wash down the floors and tables at the end of the day.

I’m learning,he mused silently, walking inside and darting toward the bathroom so he could shower.

A few hours later,J.J. called Chloe. He was lying in bed, completely exhausted, and knew it was late there. Hoping he didn’t wake her, he almost hung up the phone but then heard her pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he began quietly. “How’s it going?”

“Overwhelmed,” Chloe admitted, sighing heavily. “I’ve never done so much studying in my life, nor felt like a human centrifuge. I’m pretty sure my toenails wanted to throw up today after the second spin.”

“I bet,” he chuckled softly. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I wanted to hear your voice. Why aren’t you?”

“Same reason.”

“How was it today with Mr. Murray?”

“Disgusting – and enlightening.”

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