Chapter 4
Michael lost count of how many cows he led into the fenced in area. Some of them went willingly, as if in relief that they would finally be milked. Others dawdled, and a few Michael had to pull with all his might to get them to move. He took a break when there were only a few left in the field. They were the cows that lay on the ground and refused to get up. The sun was setting in the west and there were still so many cows left to milk. He couldn't even calculate how long they would be awake tonight just to catch up.
He entered the barn where the milking was done, the place that Sam called the milking parlor. He found Sam and Fiona moving from one cow to the other either attaching the milking apparatus or taking it off a cow. He was amazed at how Fiona moved about like she'd been doing the task a good part of her life, and Michael was amazed at his friend's untapped skill. He noticed that Fiona found a pair of rubber boots to wear and her wedge sandals hung by the straps from a coat hook on the wall near the barn door. Sam also wore a pair of boots, and his shoes sat on a bench. Sam saw Michael watching him and Fiona with fascination.
"Hey Mikey, are all the cows in from the field?"
"No, there are still about ten of them that won't move."
He straightened and looked over the back of a brown spotted cow. "They're not getting up? That's bad, Mike."
"They're not going to explode, are they," Michael asked with his face registering alarm.
"No. They'll just stop producing milk, if they haven't already." He came out into the aisle and approached his friend as he wiped his hands on a towel. "It's been ages since I've done this, but I can tell you I know when a herd's not producing. Fi and I have discovered that half these cows have already dried up. The ones that are still out there are probably in pain if they've got mastitis, and that's why they're not getting to their feet."
"What?" Michael's head was spinning. He was so far out of his element, he didn't know what to think anymore.
Sam flapped a hand. "Never mind. Just see what you can do about those cows in the field. Keep them separate from the others somehow. I might have to call a vet in tomorrow morning to look at them if they don't produce anything tonight, or they seem to be hurting."
"This is serious, then."
"Yeah, Mike." Sam nodded with a grave expression on his face. "Something like this could put a major economic crimp in the dairy farm. Enough to make some people decide to sell."
Sam's words plagued Michael as he returned to the field, renewed in his determination to get the cows inside. He put a lead on each one, pulled until the animals stood, and steered them into stalls at one end of the barn away from the cows that were already milked. When the last one came in, he asked Sam what he could do to help. Sam directed him to the feed stores and asked him to feed the cows. By the time he finished, only a few cows waited to be milked.
"I don't know how your aunt and uncle did all this," Michael said as he leaned against the barn wall and rested. He felt like he could drop at any second, but then he looked at Sam and Fiona. Sometime during their labors they slipped out of their jackets and Sam took off his Hawaiian shirt and worked in an undershirt. Fiona wore a tank top. It was cool in the barn but with the energy the two expended, they weren't feeling it.
"I've got no idea. If Matthew was here..." Sam shook his head. "Not even he and Elise could do this alone. I wish we knew where everybody went!"
"Don't worry about it, Sam. We'll figure that out tomorrow," Michael assured him. "Is there anything I can do?"
"We'll be done here in about a half hour or so. Why don't you go into the house and find something for dinner?"
Michael glanced at his watch. It was almost nine in the evening and no one had eaten lunch. "When do we have to do this again?"
"Oh, about five in the morning, and around four in the afternoon."
"Twice a day? Sam, we'll never have any time to go out looking for a way to neutralize this farm corporation!"
Sam rested a forearm on the backside of a black and white Holstein. "Don't you think I know that? After tomorrow morning's milking, I'm going into town to see if I can find some help. You and Fi work on the corporation thing." He turned back to monitor the milking of the cow.
Fiona gave Michael a sympathetic look, and as he passed her, she spoke softly for his ears only. "Don't mind him, Michael. He's tired." Her hand touched his arm. "Imagine how you'd feel if you came home to find this mess waiting and no one around to take care of it."
Michael nodded in understanding. "It's a good thing he knew what to do." He left the barn and went to the house. Sam had it unlocked so he was able to go inside.
By the time the two trudged into the kitchen, Michael had a simple meal of sliced turkey and a salad waiting. Sam had to force himself to eat something; he would have preferred to just go to bed. The three ate in silence, and after cleaning up, Sam went upstairs where there were four bedrooms. Two of them would have been occupied if his relatives had been there. The third room was once his, so he chose it, dropped onto the bed fully clothed, and fell asleep immediately. It had been a long time since he worked so hard.
Fiona kept Michael company while he put away the leftovers and cleaned up the kitchen. When he finished, he hung the wet towel over the oven door handle, turned, and found her with her head resting on her arms, fast asleep. He smiled and carried her upstairs to the other spare room. He undressed her and put her under the covers. In the morning after the milking, if anyone was still up for it, they could move their things into the house. Before he settled in, Michael checked the doors to be sure they were locked and turned off the lights. He went upstairs and climbed in beside Fiona, curled her into himself, and fell asleep. He wasn't sure what to expect from such an old home with such ancient furnishings, but it sure wasn't a comfortable mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud after all the work they'd done.
"Mike." A voice rasped near his ear. "Mike, come on, wake up!"
Michael rolled to his back and opened his eyes slowly. "Sam, it's still dark."
"I know, but we've gotta get up and milk those cows!" He jostled his friend's arm. "I've got some strong coffee brewing, so up and at 'em! Come on, Fi! You've got this down, I need you." Sam turned away and Michael soon heard his feet pounding down the stairs, followed closely by the back door slamming.
"Ohhhhh," he moaned. He prided himself on staying in shape, but Michael felt like he used muscles that hadn't gotten a workout in some time before yesterday. "Fi, come on, wake up."
"More milking," she muttered. "I don't know how these people can do it every day, twice a day."
"Dedication. And we dedicated ourselves to helping Sam's family, so the way to do that right now is to get up and work." He dragged himself into a sitting position. Fiona slowly joined him.
By the time they arrived in the barn, Sam had five cows on machines and he sat on a short stool working on a sixth manually. His cheek planted in the cow's side, he glanced at them and grinned. "Check this out, guys. I've still got it!" The milk streamed in a quick rhythmic hiss of liquid against the metal pail that matched the beat of the machines. "Mike, have you ever done anything like this before?"
"I milked some goats when I was at the farm in Europe," Michael answered, not sure that qualified him.
"Well then, go get yourself a cow and give it a shot. I don't think it's much different, just takes more hand strength." Sam finished with the cow and pulled away the bucket and stool. "Fi, can you watch the cows on the machines?"
"Sure."
The three created a system between machine and manual milking, at least for a little while. Michael and Sam's hands, unused to doing that kind of labor, grew tired and cramped, so they took brief breaks. It warmed up in the barn again as they worked, although their actions weren't as frantic as the night before. They'd all become experts at herding and milking in less than twenty four hours.
Michael turned the last cow out to the pasture and returned to the barn to find Sam and Fiona cleaning out the machine parts and buckets. Fiona blew a strand of sweat-stained hair away from her face and said to him, "When I got together with you, Michael, I never fully appreciated what the life of a spy would all entail. This was definitely not in my expectations!"
He laughed and placed a hand around her waist to give her a squeeze. "This is a new one on me too." He watched Sam hang up the last bucket. "Did you help with this when you were a kid?"
"Yeah, every morning before I went to school and when I came home, except for when I had football practice." He worked his shoulders to get out the kinks, and he glanced at his watch and noted the time. "It's almost eight. I think we finished up a lot faster this time, but I don't hold out much hope that we'll be able to kick it up any more. We need more bodies if we're gonna run this place for the time being."
"Let's get cleaned up, go into town for breakfast, and see what we can scrounge up for help," Fiona suggested.
"Great idea, Fi." Michael led the way to the house. "Who gets first dibs on the shower?"
"I vote for Sam. He's, well... peeew!" She fell into step with Michael and Sam and gave him a teasing smile.
He glanced at her with a scowl on his face. "You should talk, sister. You don't exactly smell like a field of sweet peas."
The group resolved the bathing issue and changed into clean clothes. Sam broke in the pot of coffee and stood with his backside against the counter sipping on his cup when Fiona and Michael came downstairs. Sam wore jeans and an old flannel shirt that hung open to reveal a gray shirt with GHS emblazoned on it. He met Michael's eyes and smiled.
"Can you believe it? I've got a whole bunch of shirts hanging in my closet that I haven't worn in years, and they don't fit too bad. The tees are a little tight, but they're wearable."
"That's great. We're going to need some more... casual things... if we intend to do any more farming."
"Well, if we have any success in town finding help, there'll be no need." Sam pushed away from the counter and left room for Michael and Fiona to grab some coffee. "I'm thinking maybe we can get some kids out here, like high school age, and..." He was interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. Instinctively, Sam set his cup on the table and reached for his gun that he kept at his back in his waistband.
A gasp came out of the woman who stood in the door, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. She stared at Sam. Sam's eyes locked onto her, and a smile stretched across his face. He put the gun away and in a few strides he crossed the room to enfold her in his arms.
She threw her arms around his shoulders. "Sammy, you came! I knew you would!" Tears leaked from her eyes as she half cried, half laughed in joy at the sight of him. She pulled away far enough to get a good eyeful. "You look terrific!"
"So do you, Lise," he responded using the nickname he'd given her so many years ago. That brought on a new set of tears and she burrowed into him as he kissed her cheek.
"Welcome home, Sammy. I just wish it could have been under better circumstances."
