- Sheeps Is Stupid Critters -
Jack had finally found something besides non-stop talking to occupy his time, and I was glad of the respite my ears got. And besides, Jack's new hobby was certainly entertaining enough: scaring the sheep. Jack never seemed to tire of sneaking up behind the poor, stupid creatures, and shouting at the top of his lungs; the sheep would become paralyzed and tip over to the side, laying there unmoving, while Jack himself collapsed to the ground in fits of laughter. I spent much of my time watching this free entertainment, shaking my head and laughing.
"Come on, Ennis!" Jack called one day, wiping tears from his eyes as he dragged himself up from the ground. The sheep he'd just frightened near to death was trying to do the same thing, though with much less grace. Not that Jack was particularly graceful; he just happened to be more graceful than one half-dead (and probably deaf now) sheep. "You gotta try this!"
"I think I'll pass," I called back.
"Ennis," he whined. "You ain't no fun."
"I sure am havin' fun watchin' you make a fool a yourself. I'm just waitin' for the time you get it in your head to try and scare the horses."
"That's for next week," he called, and I had to laugh. He walked up the hill to sit down beside me. He looked at me out of the corners of his eyes. "You gotta try it, just once," he cajoled.
"I ain't gonna do it, Jack."
"Do it once, an' I swear I won't bother ya 'bout it no more."
"An' that promise would last, what, ten minutes?"
"I reckon more like five. But it's great fun, Ennis. Ya ain't lived till you've scared a sheep."
"I know plenty of people livin' who ain't ever scared sheep."
"Well, they ain't really livin'. They're just shells a what they woulda been if they'd ever scared some sheep."
"Jack, sometimes I think you're a idiot."
"Where I come from, friend, that's a right compliment. Most people say my kind's the scum a the earth, or somethin' like that. I'd much rather be an idiot than scum."
I chuckled, and shook my head at him.
He poked my arm. "So will you come scare a sheep now?"
"No."
He poked me again. "You know you want to." Poke.
"No, I don't." Poke. Poke. Poke. "I'm gonna break your finger."
"I got nine more." Poke. Poke.
"What if I break 'em all?"
Poke. "Still got toes." Poke. "Just one sheep." Poke. "One little one." Poke. "Ya don't even have to scream real loud." Poke. "Just give it a little sudden push." Poke. "That's all it takes, one little shove." Poke. Poke.
"Would'ja stop pokin' me?"
"Not till you come scare a sheep." Poke.
"I'm not gonna do it, Jack."
"You know you are, Ennis. You're gonna give in sometime." Poke. Poke.
"No, I'm not." At least I couldn't now, not with that challenge. But I could stand only a few minutes more of the poking and persuading, and then I reached out and grabbed his wrist in mid-poke, twisted his arm around, and applied enough pressure that he had to flop down on the ground to keep his shoulder from popping out. "You done now?" I asked calmly, making it very clear what answer I expected.
He glared up at me. "No." I put more pressure on his arm, and he arched his back, spitting out, "I'm done, I'm done, le'go a me!" Smiling, I released him; he sat back up, holding his wrist protectively against his chest and rubbing it gently with his other hand. "Fuckin' bastard," he said to me with a glare.
I shrugged. "I warned you to stop pokin' me. I coulda been a lot meaner."
He lost the pathetically pained look, and took on a pathetically hopeful expression. "Will ya come scare a sheep now?"
I gave a long-suffering sigh, rubbing my face with one hand. "Fine, but only if you'll stop botherin' me about it!"
"Deal!" he cried, jumping up and galloping down the hill towards the sheep. Shaking my head, I followed.
We crouched down near the sheep, and he peered around, finally pointing. "Goin' fer that one."
"Which one?"
"That one, right there."
"Right where?"
"Over there—real fat, kinda away from that other group…"
"Jack, you just described about fifty sheep."
"It's that one, right there…! 'Bout twenty feet in front a us."
"Okay." There were still five sheep it could possibly be, but I thought it best to just go along with Jack. It would be much less painful.
Satisfied that I knew which sheep he'd been pointing at, Jack gave me my instructions: "Gotta creep in real slow, quiet as ya can. If she starts to turn, you freeze, an' don't move till she turns back 'round. Soon's you get to her, give 'er a good shove an' a shout." He grinned. "I swear, Ennis, you're gonna have fun. Go on."
And so I went, creeping through the baaing sheep towards my quarry, who seemed unaware of my presence as she grazed. She lifted her head a few times to bleat at another sheep, and I froze each time, just like Jack had told me to, but she never once looked at me. I came up just behind her, paused, then shoved and shouted. The ewe stiffened up and toppled over to the side, and Jack whooped and collapsed with laughter. Shaking my head and smirking, I watched the ewe get up and flee in terror before I walked back to Jack. "Satisfied?" I asked.
"For now," he said as he wiped tears from his eyes. "But I'm gonna need your help with the horses."
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