The Call

Chapter 1

The sunlight drifted through my window, waking me from the tangles of the nightmare I had been having. The subject of the dream I could not remember, but the sensation remained vivid.

Panic. A desire to flee, flee far from the thing that chased. But also a sensation of the chase. A chase for something I craved more than anything is this world.

As I begin to ponder on this my mother barged her way in, the door slamming hard against the wall.

"So Death has yet to take you then? Perhaps now Struggle might. Then maybe there's a chance we'd get these animals fed before dawn tomorrow. "Her hands flew out as she spoke, like spears made to further drive in her scolding. "Your father is too old to do this work himself and too stubborn not to!"

I took my time sliding out of bed and into my clothes, the Autumn had been mild so far. A faint and pleasant reminder of the Summer. But Winter approached now and the chill had begun to set in. I threw on a light coat and scarf, the work of the day would warm me in time but I've no desire to wait for it. Grabbing an apple as I passed through the house I finally stepped into the bright day with grim determination.

I soaked in the sight only for a moment, lengthy grass shining with dew. Horses that my father had already tended to grazed on their hay, tails flicking. And strolling through it all, my father. Hay bales in each arm. He'd always claim he could carry four in his youth. Looking at his sizable stature and tree trunk arms you could almost believe him. People in town said I was every bit as large. I was certainly close, easily standing above my neighbors and friends. Caring for the animals had toned my muscles well and I easily dominated the other boys my age in any wrestling competition. But my father was truly a sight. His hair had long greyed, and his face had long wrinkled, but he was every bit as intimidating as the day he stopped a charging bull with his bare hands.

"Kieran?You were doing such a fine job of holding the mattress down, whatever pulled you away from your diligent work?" The edges of his mouth and eyes crinkled deep as he spoke.

"The one bull you couldn't hope to stop." I grumbled, lifting two bales myself.

"Aye, that's why I wed her. Make sure she tramples someone else." His laugh echoed across the field as he tossed his load of hay down for the waiting horses.

There was little conversation to be had after that as we both settled into the daily routine of care for the various animals. After the horses were fed and brushed came the cows. I always hated milking them. The smell was noxious and the hunched over posture needed caused my back to ache. Fortunately it was quickly done and we could at last move on to the final task. The butchering of one of our pigs.

I lead the portly animal to the small shed on the far side of the farm, my father leading, his skinning knife in hand. Frankly I'd never enjoyed this either. There was always a certain gloom to the task. But my father knelt beside the pig, speaking to it gently, allowing it to partake in a small bit of sweet before he solemnly grabbed the mallet from the wall.

In a maneuver practiced many times over he brought it down upon the pig's head, stunning it. He paused a moment and then nodded his head towards the sharp blade he had handed to me.

"Cut cleanly, Kieran." His face still as water.

I breathed in, focusing on keeping my hands steady as I dragged the knife across the unconscious sow's throat in one quick motion. Blood flowed freely from the wound, deep red like wine and thick. The smell caught me hard, but my father simply lifted into the nearby trough of water, beginning the process of removing the hair. And after a bout of cleaning and prep, removed the head, and began the process of butchering it.