Big City Meat

Becca trudged through the mud at her parent’s farm, hauling an enormous amount of pig feces in a rusty wagon. Every step made a stomach-churning squish that left her sucking her feet up from the ground. She nearly lost her rubber boots in the moist mud more than once.

It was actively raining that morning, and Becca constantly regretted her decision to visit her parents that winter. It may have been snowing in the mountains where she was working part-time as a ski lift attendant and studying at university, but that weather seemed much more appealing than this rainy winter weather on the farm where she grew up. When she was younger, she couldn’t wait until the day came that she could apply for university out of state, escaping this dreadful farm.

The blame couldn’t be put on her parents; however, both were oddly cheery for living such a dreadful existence. Becca couldn’t imagine how they could find joy in cleaning up after their farm animals. Every day was dirty, stinky and gruelling work. The animals didn’t even seem to care about the amount of work that went into their maintenance.

Looking big old Wilbur in the eyes, Becca knew he was just living his best life, rolling around in the mud and eating all day. But for the humans, it couldn’t possibly be worse.

Ronald, Becca’s boyfriend from school, joined her on this “holiday” to the farm. Unlike Becca, he seemed to be having a wonderful time in nature. He came from a wealthy family, where they ate things like pigeon for dinner after shooting one at the range. How romantic.

After her morning chores were done, Becca trudged into the kitchen for a glass of water. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in hand and reading a fantasy novel.

“Good Morning, dumpling. How was it out there today?” she asked, not removing her eyes from the pages of her book. Becca was sure that her mother knew full well the miserable weather forecast this morning, but she was wrapped up in her fantasy novel with a smile on her face.

“God, I wish I had the upbringing Ronald had.” Becca thought to herself. She rolled her eyes internally, ignoring her mother’s cheery disposition, and went upstairs to take a long shower.

After her shower, Becca went up to her childhood bedroom to take a breather. Finally, some peace. Suddenly, she heard the call of an owl. Becca rushed to the window to see if the owl was outside.

Peering through the rain and the windowpanes, she got a hazy glimpse of the owl. It struck her how the owl was able to sit on a branch, so majestically, tolerating the pelting raindrops as if they were just a sprinkle of water. Then, finally, the owl swivelled his head to look at her, and she was dazzled by his stunning yellow eyes staring back at her.

Barn owls had become a rarer sight over the years. The mice were being eaten by the cats her parents had adopted. So every sighting of one was a bit of a surprise, a joyous surprise.

Becca was always fascinated by owls. They always seemed so wise, as though they knew so much of the world, travelled so far, and yet were content with settling at a family farm for long periods. She felt she could relate with the owls, wanting to move from place to place, but she couldn’t connect with settling at a barn. What a bad idea, to choose to live at a farm. Why not stay abroad and explore the world? She decided to get out of there as soon as she could.

“Knock knock,” Ronald peered through the slightly open the door to her bedroom, his red hair the first sight she saw as he grinned at her flirtatiously.

What a sight, a relieving sight, her loving and perfect boyfriend.

Becca glanced back out the window to see that the owl had flown away for now.

Ronald walked into her room and sat beside her on her bed. Taking one of her cold hands in his.

“How were the chores this morning?” he asked.

“Horrible. I hated doing chores when I was growing up, and I hate doing them now. I know it helps my parents out, but I regret coming here. We should have stayed back at school. I’m sorry you came all this way only to do farm work. It’s so embarrassing.” Becca couldn’t think of a date worse than a farm date, but she hoped Ronald thought better of her since he saw her at school, her natural environment.

“Please don’t worry about it, babe. I’m actually having fun. Being here kind of connects me with my roots. You know, I spent summers on my grandparent’s farm; I wasn’t always living in New York being spoiled. I learned a lot from my grandparents.” Ronald reassured her.

Becca was reminded just then about Ronald’s childhood. He didn’t often talk about it. “True, I sometimes forget that you actually spent quite a bit of time on a farm. I just get so embarrassed when people discover where I actually grew up. And my parents are just so annoying, they are always happy and seem to think everything is funny. I don’t understand them.”

“Why don’t we go and have some lunch? I can make waffles if you want? We have all of the ingredients for the best ones.” Ronald grinned, knowing his suggestion would please Becca.

“With whipped cream?” Suddenly Becca found a reason to be a little bit happier.

“You shouldn’t even be making waffles without whipped cream. That would be a crime,” Ronald laughed.

The two went down to the kitchen for lunch. Becca was glad to see that her mother had left to read in a different area of the house. She wasn’t sure if she could stand her happy energy any longer for the day.

Ronald went ahead and prepped the waffles. He was an excellent cook, and Becca felt lucky to have her own personal chef. It seemed as though Ronald knew how to cook almost anything to perfection. He had also volunteered to make dinner that evening. Her parents were very grateful to have him over, and Becca was glad to have him with her to remind her of happier times at school.

After lunch, Ronald and Becca went for a walk. The rain had cleared, and a nearby meadow was relatively dry. Hand in hand, they giggled about their classmates back at school, and Becca shared some of her childhood memories with him.

While on their walk, Becca heard the owl again and saw him soaring through the sky. It was almost as though he was a sign for something. Maybe he was there to remind her to spread her wings and get the heck out of her family’s farm. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel connected to his free spirit, flying in the air, without a care in the world. What she would give to be an owl.

Ronald saw Becca looking at the owl and smiled. He pulled her along, and they kept walking through the meadow.

Later in the afternoon, Ronald took his car into town to visit the farmer’s market for a few more ingredients for dinner. Becca would have joined him, but she promised her mother to help in the nursery. Apparently, a lot of the saplings needed some extra care.

Becca peered into the windows of the greenhouse to see her mother, in her floral dress and comically large straw hat, happily watering some small pots filled with soil. She turned as Becca came into the greenhouse.

“Ah, Becca, thank you for coming to help me. Moving these little girls from pot to pot is a two-person operation sometimes.” Becca’s mother gestured to the little pots that she was watering.

“Yup, no problem mom. Just show me what to do.” Becca was in a bit of a better mood since the rain had gone, so she helped her mother out with transferring the little saplings.

While transferring, one of the saplings accidentally fell out of Becca’s hands and onto the ground.

“Oh no, Becca, the poor little thing.” Her mother rushed over to see if the sapling was salvageable, but it seemed pretty destroyed to Becca.

“Sorry, mom, I didn’t mean to drop it.” Becca was saddened by the death of the little tree.

“That’s okay, dear. I know you don’t have much practice with these things. It was an accident. Maybe when you finish school and come back to the farm, we can spend some more time gardening together.

Becca was surprised. Did her mother really think that she would move back to the farm after she graduated college? She must have been delusional. “Mom… there’s no way that I’m moving back here after school is over. I’m probably going to move to New York with Ronald and his family.”

Becca’s mother didn’t look up from the soil that she was cleaning off the ground, “I know, dear, but it would be great if you did. Your father and I are getting older. It would be such a joy to have you back home where you belong. We love having you here.”

Instantly, Becca felt anger bubbling up inside of her. An annoyance for her mother’s ignorance and anger because she disregarded Becca’s dreams.

“MOM, I’ve told you more than once now that I don’t want to live on the farm. I hate living on the farm. I want to live anywhere else, but the farm and I want to spend my life with Ronald. He understands me, the real me, and he is so much more sophisticated than this gross little farm,” Becca said through her clenched teeth. Her mom looked back at her with saddened eyes. Becca almost felt sad and guilty for what she said, but she felt strong in saying how she felt.

Becca walked out of the greenhouse to avoid her mother’s disappointment without another word.

The sun had started to set, it was the blue hour, and the farm was beginning to darken into night. While storming back to the house and to the comfort of her bedroom, Becca heard the call of the owl again. The second time in one day.

She looked up to the sky and to the branches of the nearby trees to see him perched there, staring back at her. There seemed to be some sort of understanding in his eyes. She felt comforted by his gaze. How could it be that an owl could understand her better than her own parents? She’d only known this owl for some hours, but he felt like her long-time friend. Becca wanted to transport herself into the body of this owl and just fly away.

Rushing into her bedroom, Becca closed the door behind her and flopped onto her bed. She placed her noise-cancelling headphones onto her ears, turned up her favourite motivational music and drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, it was dark outside, and she heard music playing on a record player downstairs. She groggily got herself out of bed and walked over to the staircase that led into the kitchen.

Looking into the kitchen, Becca saw Ronald happily cooking and chatting with her mother. Her father was away on business for a couple of nights, so it made her happy to see her mother having a good time with Ronald. They seemed to get along very well, laughing about their silly memories.

Ronald glanced up from the cutting board to see Becca sauntering into the kitchen.

“Hey, babe. Dinner is almost ready. You’re just in time. I didn’t want to wake you up from your nap.” Ronald continued cutting as he acknowledged her.

Becca’s mother looked at her with a smile, as if she was a little wounded by Becca’s words, but with the same expression of most mothers, unconditional love. Becca quickly looked away from her mother’s face.

Stammering a bit, Becca told them, “I think I’ll go and set the table for dinner.”

Taking her time, Becca slowly set the table with plates, cutlery and napkins. Then, she sat at her usual spot at the table while Ronald and her mother continued to chat together.

She couldn’t wait the few days left at the farm. Her new plan was to leave tomorrow night with Ronald to go back to school early. There she could have some of his famous homemade pizza with the fanciest mozzarella and basil. Her stomach grumbled a bit at the thought.

Ronald breezed into the dining room with the smell of roasted vegetables wafting straight into Becca's face. She grinned, hungry for dinner.

“Dinner is served,” he mused as he swept in to give Becca a kiss on the cheek and gracefully set the table with the dishes he prepared.

Becca was so hungry, only having had waffles that day, she was excited about dinner.

Her mother sat down at her spot, and Ronald sat beside Becca. Becca’s mother motioned for them to all hold hands for grace.

Becca forgot that this was mandatory at dinner time, and she dreaded the idea of having to say grace when she was so hungry. So she reluctantly placed one hand in Ronald’s and the other she put in her mother’s hand.

Becca’s mother grinned and began her speech, “Dear Jesus, our saviour. Bless this meal that we have before us, and bless our conversation. Thank you for providing us with the fruits of your great holiness. We are not worthy of your kindness. Please guide us into the coming days and years as Becca leaves our ramshackle family home for the good graces of her wealthy future. Bless her union with Ronald as she lives her dream in the big city, eating the fanciest foods her heart desires. May she always remember her home and where her heart is. Amen.”

Becca sat, mouth shut, but eyes glued to her mother in an expression that no doubt read, “What the hell, mom?!” she glanced over at Ronald, who seemed impressed with her mom’s speech. She hated that they got along so well. He was supposed to be better than this farm, but he kept acting like it was such a great place to be.

Letting go of their hands, Becca moved to start putting food on her plate, filling it up with the vegetables, potatoes and chicken that Ronald had made.

Silently, they all started eating. Becca could tell that those two were quiet because of her awkward energy.

She started cutting into the chicken and took a bite. It seemed a bit chewier than she was used to, a bit leaner, maybe. It wasn’t bad, though, just maybe not one of Ronald’s best creations.

Suddenly, Becca crunched something in the chicken. It was a larger bone. Ronald and her mother heard the crunch and looked up at her.

Removing the bone from her mouth, Becca tried not to look a little disturbed. Instead, she continued with another bite.

“Wow, Ronald, the chicken is quite delicious. Did you buy it fresh today from the market?” Becca’s mother asked.

Ronald beamed, “Actually, no, I found it on the farm today. So I got to practice my shooting skills.”

Both Becca and her mother looked at Ronald, wide-eyed. They didn’t have chickens on their farm, and even if they did, it wouldn’t make sense to shoot a chicken for dinner.

Becca’s mother was the first to ask, “Oh really? What type of bird do we have the pleasure of eating?” she took another fork full of meat as Ronald answered.

“I’ll give you a hint. It makes the sound ‘hoo,’” Ronald replied with such pride.

Becca nearly choked on the meat in her mouth. But instead, she grabbed a napkin and spit it out immediately. What did he just say? It couldn’t possibly be…

Becca’s mother took another bite of the owl meat and murmured, “Well, it seems even the rich boy has a bit of farm in him after all. I wonder if this is normal in New York?”