Page 32 of As the Rain Falls
“Here it is, son.”
His head is almost entirely bald, but the sides are covered by a few gray chunks of hair. The strands look soft and damp as he takes his cowboy hat off and hands me the plastic bag.
Wesley Monteiro managed to hurt himself really badly a couple of years ago. His left eye was left blind after a nail accidentally fell on it while he was fixing a window.
Lucia found out about the accident through a friend of a friend and harassed me for days until I agreed to send him a gift. Out of everything we could have purchased, she bought him red Ray-Ban sunglasses. Well rightfully so called her out for being an entitled little brat—it’s how we all became friends.
“Don’t hold her too tight,” he warns.
“I’m not,” I promise, watching as the sky gets darker.The poor weather makes working on the farm a real nightmare. I can’t get anything done if it keeps on raining for days like this.
“Boy, watch your hands!” he yells, sounding angrier than before.
Well rushes behind me, urging me to move faster. Maribella, our New Hampshire chicken, is too agitated for something that’s supposed to be sick. We’ve been chasing her for what feels like hours, and she won’t let us catch her.
“Don’t squeeze my chicken!”
His voice is so loud that my ears feel like they’re about to explode. I wince, making a big step towards Maribella.
“I’m not going to squeeze her!” I yell back, planning to get Maribella as soon as possible.
The ideal would be to not run after her because it’s definitely stressing her out, but it’s getting late, and I need to drive back to town if I want to get her to the vet on time.
Around us the trees are bigger, and longer. The length helps to protect the grounds from all the water that’s falling, but clearly not enough.My old t-shirt is drenched, sticking to my back in a way that feels totally overstimulating. I have only the smallest urge to rip it off, but I don’t like standing half naked around my boss. It feels very impolite.
Well saw how lost I felt after I got out of high school. He hired me to help him out. I mostly look after the animals: cows, chickens, pigs, or anything else he decides to buy or adopt.I even like the job at times, but the truth is, improving my farm skills is starting to come second now. I’m far more interested inOld Well’s other skill: carpentry.
The man can build anything. It’s really impressive and exciting to watch him work his magic, figure out how to fix something, and know which materials to use. He is a great teacher too, the kind to make you want to be half as good as he is.
I want to be able to create something out of nothing with my hands and with my effort. Something real, something that can be held. Others may think of it as too simplistic or not prestigious enough, but it sure as hell makes a lot of sense to me. Well is going to teach me how to do that, and I am going to learn.
“We need to drive this one to the vet.”
Well tells me after I catch the poor thing with my bare hands, gently trying to hand-feed her treats to get her to calm down. Maribella is not having any of it though, and when my hand gets too close, she tries to bite me.
“We should get a cage for things like this,” I suggest, knowing Well doesn’t have any lying around the farm anymore.
“You have to buy one at the shop,” Well states, now trying to get a good look at her. “She’s egg-bound.”
Maribella squeaks angrily, her little black eyes glaring at him for exposing her very private situation.
“She’s such a fussy one.” I shift her in my arms until I’m certain she’s sitting in a more comfortable position.
The chicken closes her eyes, wincing with pain as I pet her sides. I begin to frown while glancing at Well, who is now too busy massaging his back like he was the one to put in all the effort.
“Did you try soaking her in warm water first?” I kiss the top of Maribella’s head. “She’s all swollen.”
“I did last night.” He pauses, scratching his chin. “And then she escaped from the old cabin before I could check on her again.”
The old cabin is where we keep all the chickens together. It looks exactly like it sounds: like an old cabin.
I keep petting her stomach gently, massaging her muscles, and speaking to her with a reassuring tone. “It’s okay. I’ll take her with me now, then. You’re going to be okay, sweet thing.”
“Don’t forget to bring back the fruits I spared for you.” Well waves his finger at me, like I’m a kid who doesn’t want to behave. “Look at you, barely keeping one eye open. Ai, you worry me, boy. You need to eat better if you want to work around this farm.”
“I’m fine,” I try not to smile, knowing he means well. “Don’t worry about me.”
With the chicken secured inside the truck, I wave to tell Well goodbye for the day and start to drive away from the farm. Narrow pathways are all I see ahead of me, and making sure the truck doesn’t get knocked by a tree branch or a wild animal takes time. I don’t exactly mind it, since I have a lot on my mind to think about.
