Chapter 2
2 Cauldron's farm has
been the main source of employment, and the driving force behind the village's
economy for over a hundred years. Animaltaurs and humans work together picking
and cleaning fruits and vegetables, milking and butchering cows and other
livestock, and delivering goods to the general store and other villages. Those
who would visit the farm agree it was one of the biggest in the southern
location of Bantam. Not once in the farm's history have the owners segregate
the workers. They expect every animaltaur and human to work and eat together,
and to sleep in the same barn if things are extremely busy. The current owners
don't have a problem voicing their opinion on how the village treats humans. Things at the farm
have gone downhill for the last six years. With fewer produce to pick and
deliver means less money, which then affects the workers and with so many
animaltaurs and humans out of work adds to the economic problems for Cauldron.
The residents have seen storms surround the area, but very few hit the village.
The lack of jobs has forced several families to leave. The population went from
close to a thousand to around seven hundred fifty within a couple of years, and
everybody knows the number will continue to drop if things don't improve at the
farm. Martin lifts the last
bundle of hay into a cart, looks at the sun and guzzles some water. It's bound
to be another warm one, and it isn't even summer. The coyotetaur looks around.
He has yet to see his friend. It isn't like Trevor to be late and/or miss a day
of work unless he's sick, and the human looked fine last night. Martin follows
a small group of animaltaurs to the dairy farm, and unloads the bales of hay
for the remaining cows. Cauldron had close to eighty cows, but now there are
less than thirty. The coyotetaur looks
around. Just like with cows, the number of employees dropped like crazy. There
are only twenty animaltaurs working on the farm, which doesn't include the
farmers' family, and one human. All the other humans quit and/or were let go.
Martin knows why Mr. Watson and Mr. Grey haven't done the same to his friend:
he's a hard worker, and doesn't give them any lip whenever they have an extra
chore for him to do. All of the animaltaurs who still work on the farm has a
good amount of respect for Trevor, and some even taught him a couple of things. Willson, a light
brown foxtaur with big ears, taught Trevor how to throw knives, and bought him
a set of throwing knives for all his years of hard work. Terk, a liontaur with
a reddish-brown main, and Max, a tigertaur, are guilty of training his friend
how to take down and prevent an animaltaur from getting back to their feet. Mr.
Watson knows the hardship Trevor's parents are in, and has made a deal with
him. He receives sacks of food, bundles of firewood and other supplies instead
of dinars as payment. The animaltaurs who are left has yet to give his friend a
hard time for not being able to read. It's a shame the same can't be said
regarding humans. Martin ties a sack of
apples and places it in a cart. He looks at the sun. It's almost noon, and
Trevor has yet to arrive. He'd ask if he can go see what's wrong with his friend,
but doesn't want to burden the others with extra work. The coyotetaur helps a
wolftaur tie a sack of plums, and spots something kicking up dust. "Someone must've
overslept," Willson said. "Odd to see him run like he does without any human
foot protection." "Like I said, Trev's
an animaltaur in a human body," Martin said. "I'd wager he has a
excuse why he's late," Max said. "Sorry I'm late,"
Trevor accepts some water from a wolftaur and climbs into the cart. "It'll be fine this
once, but next you'll to bathe us all," Terk said jokingly. Martin studies his
friend's expression. "What's wrong, Trev? You usually crack jokes when we make
petty demands." "It's my dad," the
human closes his eyes, "he never returned yesterday." "Now don't jump to
any of those conclusions," a wolftaur said. "Perhaps he's staying out later?" "But he usually says
something if he does. He didn't in both cases," Trevor rearranges some of the
sacks. "How much work I have to make up for?" "No worries, kid,"
the tigertaur said. "Lateness happens, and you've got a excuse." "And here comes Mr.
Watson," the liontaur said. "Be honest is all we can say." "I know." "Fancy to see you've
finally joined them, Trevor," Mr. Watson said. "Anything I should know?" "Yes. My dad never returned,
sir," the human looks at his boss. "Mom thought of staying home, but can't." "I know. What's his
face has an iron fist," the wolftaur said. "When's your father supposed to
return?" "Yester afternoon,
sir." "Well, I'm sorry to
hear that. You know I'll help in any way I can." "Thank you.
Anything-" "Don't finish that
line," Mr. Watson raises his hand. "You do your fair share of work, and then
some, and you've done it for so long. It's only right I help out any way I can.
How's your mother?" "Silence, sir." The wolftaur nods.
"If she was home, I'd give you the day off to be there, but she's not, and
don't be scared to take some time off. You may need it." "I'll let you know,
sir." "I know you will.
You've never hid anything from me before," Mr. Watson said. "Go help in the
dairy farm. Willson? Take him." "Aye, sir," the
foxtaur stands by the cart. "On my back, you, and hang on." Martin chews his
tongue the longer Mr. Watson stands there. There's something else on the
wolftaur's mind. "Martin and you two,"
the caninetaur points to a cougartaur and dingotaur. "I'm afraid the farm won't
need your assistance anymore. I'm sorry things have to end like this, but until
we receive some rain, we don't have much of a crop. You three are free to stay
or go. Either way I'll pay you for the day." Martin places his
hands on the cart. He knew this day was bound to come, but the news still
stings. The coyotetaur watches the two animaltaurs leave, but decides to stay.
He looks at Mr. Watson. "Can I ask you a question,
sir?" "Does the question
involve Trevor?" Mr. Watson sees the caninetaur nod. "He's still needed, but
I'm unsure of how long. I didn't want to say what I had too in front of him,
and I'm aware he'll find out. I provide you'll encourage him to stay?" "I will, sir. At the
end of the day, however." "That's fine, and
thank you for staying." Martin nods and
twitches his ears. He can already imagine what his mom and dad will say when he
tells them the news. The coyotetaur takes a deep breath, drinks some water and
returns to work. Mr. Watson has done the right thing by allowing Trevor to
stay. His friend needs the job more than ever if his dad never returns. Martin
puts the last sack into the cart, and helps push it into the barn. Martin stays on the farm
until Trevor is done for the day, and tells him the bad news while walking him
home. The coyotetaur doesn't have to encourage his friend to continue to work
on the farm. Instead the human surprises him by asking if he still wants to go
hunting. Martin doubts his parents will have a problem with it, but it wouldn't
hurt to ask again. The coyotetaur studies the shack Terry lives in. The site
depresses him even more knowing there's a chance his friend and his mom may
lose it. He heads home. Trevor needs to be alone with his mom. Martin takes his
time. There's so much crap floating around in his mind he can't think straight.
The coyotetaur wants to help Trevor and his mom in some way, but can't think of
what. He knows for damn sure his parents and/or neighbors won't take them in as
servants. The caninetaur stops by the general good's store and buys a small
amount of school supplies. Being out of work won't stop him from teaching
Trevor how to read. Martin spots his house and takes a deep breath. Time to tell
his mom the bad news, providing his dad hasn't already. Martin finds his
parents in the dining room. "There's... something I need to tell you, ma." "I've already told
her," Zues said. "Neither of us are too happy with Watson's choice of keeping him but getting rid of you." "Please stop talking
like that, pa. You know he's my friend, and it upsets me whenever you say stuff
like that," Martin sits by the table. "And you know Trev's a hard worker." "I know he is, but
I'm sure there are better and more capable humans." "But there isn't, or
they would still be at the farm," Martin said. "Can we please talk about something
else?" "Very well. What's
your plans now and what's those for?" Martha points at the supplies. "These are for
Trevor, ma. I plan to tutor him, and as for my plans, I don't know other than
look for work." "If such a thing is
possible," Zues said. "I suggest you save your money. Who knows when things
will return to how things were." "Yes, pa." "Something else on
your mind, Martin?" Martha asks. "It involves Trev,
ma. He still wants to go on that hunting trip, and he asked me to come with.""You already know you may go, but
be sure to prevent him from taking everything you kill," Zues said.
"Understood?" "Yes, pa," Martin
looks at his dad. "Did Trevor tell you-" "What came of his
father? He has. Not much we can do for him or his mother. However, I told him I
expect him to come by tomorrow and bathe me." Martin takes a deep
breath. "Shouldn't he be with his ma?" "He has tonight, and
don't you dare start. If he wants to be with his mother then he wouldn't go on
this hunting trip," Zues said. "And don't expect us to give him any pity." "Having him here may
do him some good," Martha said. "Once he's done his thing, you can tutor him,
and that could help keep his mind off certain things." "Or until he returns
home, ma. I may wait on tutoring him. I'm still working on a couple of things." "Do what you must
do." Martin nods and
excuses himself. He places his things on a shelf and shuts his bedroom door.
Things between him and Trevor won't change, but his dad may make things a bit
more difficult at the farm. The coyotetaur lies on his mat and yawns. He'd ask
his parents not to treat his friend any differently, but knows he has a better chance
of telling a tree to move out of his way. Martin rolls onto his side, rests his
head on a pillow and stretches his legs. He can't wait to see Trevor tomorrow
afternoon.*** Trevor fills a couple
of buckets and studies the sign by the well. He has no idea what it says. The
human carries the water back to Zues' house and fills a wooden tub that's three
feet deep, five feet wide and seven feet long. One more trip should fill it up.
The young man pours the last of the water into the tub, and prepares the
towels. It takes between three to five towels to dry off an animaltaur, and the
exact number he needs depends on how much excess water they can shake off. The young man lays
out a brush and clippers. Martin's dad wants him to do more than bathe him and
tells him he should know what needs to be done by now without having to be
reminded. Trevor bites his tongue and nods. He knows Martin's parents don't
have a lot of love for his kind, and it shows with some of the things they say,
but they can also be nicer than others when they want to be. The young man
watches Zues step into the tub. He dampens the caninetaur's fur, scrubs it with
shampoo and rinses it off. Trevor rolls out a towel for Zues to lie on, and proceeds
to dry and brush his fur and trim his claws. Trevor makes sure
Martha and Martin doesn't need a bath, and uses the opportunity to wash his
face and arms. He drains the tub and remembers the sign. The young man explains
what he saw to Zues, and asks what it says. The coyotetaur says he has to see
it for himself and leaves. Trevor puts the shampoo, brush and clippers away,
and hangs the towels on the edge of the tub. One of the coyotetaurs will take
care of them once they're dry. Zues returns. "It appears they're
putting a restriction on water usage, starting tomorrow. We can still drink and
cook with it, but no more baths. I saw the sign yesterday, but didn't bother to
stop and read it. I wish I would've," the coyotetaur looks at Trevor. "I
should've had you save the water. Not your fault." "What else it say?"
Trevor asks. "The last thing it
said is they're unsure of how long the restrictions will last," Zues studies
the towels. "Knowing one thing, those towels should give your mother something
to do tomorrow. You're free to go." "Come on you, I'll
walk you home," Martin leads the human out of the yard. "How were things on the
farm?" "Eh, same as usual.
Mr. Grey told your dad not to hold Mr. Watson's choice against me." Martin looks over his
shoulder. "Did he?" "No, not really, but
I'm sure yesterday is a reason why he had me bathe him today." "Yeah, sounds like pa
all right. Listen, I'm sorry for what he said regarding your ma." "He said worse. The
best I can do is bite my tongue." "You shouldn't have
too, but it's probably for the best," Martin said. "How's your ma?" "She's the same as
yesterday," Trevor shakes his head. "She said she's going to ask for more
hours, but I don't expect it to do well." "Yeah. Mr. What's-His-Face
is rather tight. Say, when you want to head on this hunting trip?" "Eight days from now
sound fine?" "Hell yeah. What Mr.
Watson say?" "Not a lot, but he
did say we can use one of his old carts. Willson says he'll help fix it up. All
we need to do is bring them something." "That we can do,"
Martin scratches under his chin. "How long should this trip be?" "Three, maybe four
days. One day to travel, one or two days to hunt, and I may use that time to
gather some other things, and the fourth to return." "Sounds like a good
plan. Do you expect us to find a lot?" "If we head north.
That seems to be where it rains the most." "True. Damn shame the
rain doesn't head down here." "That would be nice." "Anything else on
your mind?" "One. I just hope we
don't tangle with whatever got my dad." "If I sense it, I'll
have you ride my back and run back into town. We'll ditch the cart if we have
to," Martin said. "Has anybody found your pa's stuff?" "No. If they did
they're most likely hiding it." "Hearing crap like
that really... I can't put it into words how mad that makes me," the coyotetaur
shakes his head and says loudly. "And some of my kind are too damn stubborn to
change." "I'm sure things will
change several years from now." "Providing Cauldron's
still around. Listen, Trev, I don't expect it to last long if things don't
improve at the farm." "I know. That's what
worries my mom. Where are we to go?" Trevor said. "Neither of us can read, and
she isn't much of a woodsman." "True, but both of
you are hard workers. I'm sure somebody at another village won't care about the
other thing. They may even help you." "We can only hope.
I'll see you tomorrow." "Yeah, later." Trevor closes the
door to his shack. He has an idea what Martin was about to hint at, and he
would've agreed a fortnight ago, but now he can't. He doubts his mom can take
care of herself, and the only people that helps them is Mr. Watson, and to a
lesser degree, Martin. Everybody else has their own problems and/or does their
best to pretend they don't exist. The young man sits on
the ground and looks around. In some ways they're better off than some of the their
neighbors, but in other ways they're not. For one his parents actually own
their home, but it isn't all that big. It only has one room. In the center of
their shack is a fire pit, and in a corner is a small cabinet that holds less
than a dozen dishes and little food. The only other furnishings they have are a
couple of mats. There are no decorations on the wall. His parents taught him
one very important thing at a young age, and that is to always be happy with
what he has. Trevor sits outside
on a log and makes arrowheads. So far he's made six arrows, and has plans to
make more before they go on their trip. He looks at the sky. It's late and his
mom has yet to return home. Tonight there's a strong chance he'll have to eat
by himself, and what he has isn't much: a couple of apples and some rabbit
meat. Trevor closes his eyes. He needs to go on his hunting trip, or they won't
make it to fall, and they can't rely on Mr. Watson giving them a sack of food.
Not with how bad things are at the farm. He thinks about what Martin hinted at
not too long ago. He hates the idea of leaving his mom, but he may have no
other choice.