Showmanship

9 - Owls, A Very Scary Pinky Promise, and Animal Control Won't Pick Up

Owls

"Hey James come here."

I walked into the red barn. It smelled strongly of saw dust, cow manure, and moonshine. Willow was brushing a cow with a pink comb. Something you would find in the dollar store in that weird children/allergy medicine section.

"What is it?" I asked. My new estranged self confidence was making me disorientated.

Willow's Minnesotan accent had become stronger. "You need this."

I become understandably confused. My feet started to way down on the ground, and for some reason it was hard to keep my eyes completely open.

"What?"

Willow looked at my quizzically. Her hair was somewhat messy and had some straw in it. "Do you love Dorothy?"

What is happening? What is happening? What is happening? What is happening?

My brain wouldn't shut up so I didn't have much control over what I was saying. "Yeah."

"So you should marry her." Willow continued. She still was combing the cow in a slow monotone rhythm.

My heart was beating away like a clock as blood rushes to my cheeks. "What?"

She turned. Her hands were cupped around something. A smile was plastered on her face. "You'll need to sing a song for the cow."

I paused. I think all of me paused. My inner orchestra paused to. Now they collided and stopped. The tuba player even tripped over the flute.

"E-," I stammered. "Excuse me?"

She opened up her hands and showed me her red tanned and blistered palms. Sitting in her hands like a dog, digging its head down to graze at what should have been grass, was a cow. The same cow that she had been combing.

My senses were swaying around loopy but also stood still to stay alert. I couldn't comprehend what was happening, but I took the miniature cow from her hand like everything was normal.

She then handed me a jug. Not like an empty milk jug that you went to recycle. It was a ceramic jug, brown and white. If you would have topped it off with a washboard you could have had a perfect bluegrass band.

"Sing to the cow!" She said. Her eyes were bright. "And then when it is pleased you can marry Dorothy."

I held the ceramic jug clumsily. It was extremely heavy in my hand, and it was getting harder and harder to open my eyes. I still knew what I was seeing around me - like a hologram on the inside of my eyelids.

Suddenly all of Dorothy's family was surrounding me. All of them except her, and they were chanting. "Sing to the cow. Sing to the cow. Sing to the cow. Sing to the cow." All of them surrounding me closer and closer and closer. I could barely hold of the jug anymore and my hands were getting tired. My eyes were getting itchy because of how hard it was getting to keep them opened.

And the room spun around me as the chanting continued, and I could barely count the seconds of every jarring breath I was taking. My arms felt like they could have been torn of because of the tiring pain, but I still felt like I needed to do something. I needed to do something to get her. Right?