Hobson's Choice

Two: Once Upon a Yesterday

"NO-O-O-O-O," he screamed as the shaft between the tractor and the harvester spun relentlessly, grabbing his Dad's jeans in a vice-like grip as if with invisible hands of hardened steel. Everything seemed to slow down to a frame-by-frame movie. The uncovered shaft ripped into the old faded denim, close to the raw edges of the threadbare hole at the knee, and in sickening sequence, into the flesh beneath... and the bones. All were crushed in its suddenly fearful, relentless maw. Too late he remembered the unwritten law of ALWAYS using the safety guard... the one his Mum had reminded him of again, so few hours ago.

His eyes watched and yet his brain refused to accept the horror of the moment – blocked even the pain. A thunderous roaring filled his ears to bursting point, blotting out almost everything. Except consciousness. Not yet.

But I hear unearthly screams somewhere in the thunder. Over and over and over... How can that be? Why? Who's doing it? NO-O-O-O... IT'S ME! As his brain abruptly accepted the unimaginable, the agony hit him like a freight train... a split second before his world mercifully melted away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh shit!

"Zip's broken, Mum. Can't walk around with my fly undone. What do I do?"

"Aww c'mon Jake... " She clicks her tongue and sighs loudly. She looks and sounds exasperated. "They're not the ONLY jeans you own. With all the washing I do for you, I surely know that. Just get out another pair."

"... but one lot's in soaking that tractor grease out, and the others split from uhrr... (phew! Caught myself just in time. Mum wouldn't like 'from arsehole to breakfast time'), uhrr... here to there!"

She raises one eyebrow. She knew what I nearly said. I can tell she's struggling to stop a smile.

"And then there's only your good ones, I know, I know." She reaches up a bit and ruffles my hair. I'm taller than her now, even though I'm only just a teenager. Doesn't stop me playing the 'poor little boy' bit if I reckon it'll help. Pretty damn good at that – had years of practice, after all.

"You'll have to use a pair of Dad's old work jeans. He's got a few." Now she smiles as she looks at my skinny hips. "You'll have to seriously tighten a belt to keep your Dad's dacks up. It's been a long, long time since his middle looked anything like yours," and she glances down even lower. "Not like your feet. Can't believe you're both the same size now! Ha... my little boy." She shakes her head and that lovey look makes her eyes go sort of dreamy. Better snap her out of this lot before she gets too mushy altogether.

"I know what you're gonna say next, " and I make my voice all sweet and lady-ish, but kind of firm at the same time. "Be careful! 'Yes Mum.' Don't try and do it all yourself! 'No Mum.' Dad'll be home soon! 'Yes Mum.' (yawn... but turn head away so she can't see) Don't forget the safety guard!"

'NO MUM!' (starting to talk through gritted teeth, better get outta here before I lose my cool)

"Gotta go Mum..." I head for the door. "See you at lunchtime. Hope you got something decent for me to eat, for a change."

I duck as a tea towel flies towards me, then I'm off out the door, quick as a wink.