Bull’s Might, Owl’s Wisdom

With the unmistakable crunch of tire-disturbed dirt coming from outside, John knew his time was up. John winced as he placed a final bandage on a cut above his eyebrow. The reflection in his bathroom mirror showed each painfully fresh bruise. His body ached. But, after an empowering deep breath, John walked out picking up his wooden baseball bat on his way.

John entered his ramshackle of a kitchen, taking note of his daughter, Dianna, wistfully looking out of a window toward the sunset…or the many police officers that just pulled up. She, with little expression, opened her mouth to speak, but John held up a finger to stop her. “If they want a fight, I will fight.”

“What more could you ask for?” Dianna asked.

On his way out, John felt a throb of pain in his head big enough to stop him at the door. He winced, pushed the assumed omen to the back of his mind, and opened the door.

As John walked along his front porch, he was met with the sight of three cop cars with one last car, unmarked, parked behind the line. In front of the cars, a man in a light brown sheriff’s uniform walked up the dirt road to John.

“John,” the sheriff said.

“Timmy,” John replied.

Tim scratched the back of his neck and huffed, “Once again, it’s sheriff.”

“Once again, get off my property, Timmy!” Even though his arms ached, John raised his bat.

Sheriff Tim backed up and held his palm up to the officers behind him. “Now, John, I could already arrest you for brawlin’ with a couple of my officers today, but I thought you’d be a touch more receptive to me."

John’s gripped tightened.

“C’mon, John, try a different way.” Sheriff Tim lowered his hand. “No one wants to fight like this.”

“Speak for yourself, Sheriff.” A graveled voice cut through from behind Tim. “Personally, I’d like to see what Johnny’s plan is, now that I’m here with more officers.”

The speaker was silhouetted by the sunset. All John could see was a shadowy figure walking toward him, but he could never forget the voice. Not only because they’d ‘talked’ earlier today, but because John had been friends with him since they were kids. “Paul Cathedrae.”

“Now, Mr. Cathedrae—” Sheriff Tim began.

Paul placed a meaty hand on Sheriff Tim’s shoulder, but his gaze never left John’s eyes. “I’ll take it from here, Sheriff. You just be ready to provide back up just in case.” With a smile, Paul creeped up to John.

When John deemed that Paul was too close, he raised his bat like a sword in front of him. “You’re not taking my farm, Paul.” The two mirrored each other’s step, keeping a tight circle formation. Each movement sent a flash of pain through John. “Yet, you keep showing up for this fight.”

“Johnny,” Paul proclaimed loudly, “Some old handshake agreement between our grandfathers means nothing if someone new wants to purchase this land.” He then got quiet, making sure only John could hear. “Plus, you had the audacity to hit me with a bat. So, now, I really just want to beat you into a pulp and take the farm.”

With a snarled smile from Paul, John flinched and stepped back.

“C’mon, John, let’s do this,” Paul said, “Hit me.”

John knew he couldn’t win, the injuries from the earlier fight took too much. If the officers joined in, he might not make it out alive. Paul was still fresh and now fueled by anger. But he had to fight for his home. So, with a flash of movement and a shock of pain, John swung at Paul.

He missed.

Paul took the opening to punch John in the ribs. John stumbled away, using the bat like a cane to keep him up on his feet. Paul rushed up close and John swung again.

He missed.

John felt Paul’s foot connect with his but couldn’t react in time. He tripped and rolled closer to the house, slowly recovering to a standing position. Due to the sun still setting, he had to hold his hand up to make out that Sheriff Tim was between them, yelling at Paul. John then realized he couldn’t hear the sheriff’s words bringing to his attention a harsh ringing in his ears.

John began gasping for air. He couldn’t hide his pain anymore. In a daze and unsure of what to do next, he looked up at the last light of the day and saw a small shadow flying towards the farmhouse. As it got closer and clearer, John recognized it as a barn owl. A tiny thing, it flew up and landed on John’s roof. For a quick second, he swore it looked down at him directly, then its gaze shifted.

John looked down to see Dianna standing in front of him. She walked up and sighed. “The way things are, this isn’t going to end well is it?”

John nodded and gave a weak smile. “I think it’s a bit too late to change tactics now.”

Dianna placed a calm hand over her father’s bat filled fist, “Dad, until it’s over, you can fight however you want. And by the looks of it, he’s still wants a fight.”

Paul was stomping his way toward them.

John held out a protective arm in front of Dianna and thought about the situation. He could feel something was off, he just had to think of it before…

Paul lunged at him. Thankfully, John was so on edge that he was able to dodge just in time. This also opened Paul up for John to get close and attack. But he didn’t take it. Instead, John moved Dianna closer to the officers.

Sheriff Tim guided Dianna into his car for protection.

“Is there a reason you won’t arrest him, Tim?” John asked.

“I would, but I can’t take him alone and he threatened to evict all my officers from their homes as well, so they drove off.”

John looked around to see the other officers’ cars driving off in the distance. Then he had a thought. “His family runs the place.” John slowly turned watching Paul rush toward him like a feral beast. Calmly and simply, John asked, “Paul, do you need the money?”

Paul stumbled to a stop in front of John and Tim. He let out a nervous chuckle, “Excuse me? I don’t know what you’ve heard but—”

“You’ve bragged about your family owning most of the buildings in this town since we were kids, yet now you need money.”

“Well, now that’s just not true,” Paul stammered.

“We all just assumed your family was the richest. But exactly how many handshake agreements did your grandfather make in this town?”

Paul looked hurt, his breathing loud and labored, until he took a deep breath and let his shoulders relax. “Basically, every deal he made was handshake only. For years My grandfather never told any of us that he wasn’t getting paid as much as he was for whatever reasons people could give. On top of that, he let our family live as though we were as wealthy as we thought. And with dad’s gambling problem, debts were and still are owed. I just found out and have now been tasked with fixing everything.”

John gave a satisfied sigh and placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Well, now that we know the problem, we can help you, right Tim.”

Tim smiled and nodded.

“And what do you know about debt collecting?” Paul asked.

“Very little,” John opened the car door and let Dianna out, “But if you need help fighting this, we can help you find a different way.”

Dianna nodded and led the men into the farmhouse.