Feast or Famine

Maybelline strut down the center aisle, unaffected by the various calls of the onlookers. She had done this before and her mission was of no less import than any other time. The air grew in fresh fragrance as the light drew nearer with every purposeful step. The commotion behind her continued and seemed to swell as the distance to her goal shrank away. The next few steps were always the most fearful and yet exciting as she was about to be overcome by the sheer brightness of the light. Her desire for what came after drove her forward unfalteringly. Bursting through the stale darkness and emerging gloriously into the brilliant atmosphere proved to much to contain,  and Maybelline allowed her electric joy to shoot from her limbs as she took two playful hops. Turning about, she stared into the darkness she had just escaped and let out a bleat to allow her comrades the hope that it was indeed a beautiful day outside. A second bleat was offered as thanks to the good Farmer Brown for relieving the building pressure in her udder with his skillful hands. Having offered her encouragement and gratitude, it was time to go and rediscover the delights of this world, mainly in finding that elusive patch of clover.

Farmer Brown straightened his back as he stood, watching the first of his milking goats leave the barn after its milking. He pondered what a strange creature such as this would be thinking about as it started its day, but shaking his head he put his mind back to the task at hand. These goats needed milking, and the sooner that was over the better. Not that he disliked his goats, they provided him and Mrs. Brown with a daily supply of milk and cheese, and a small income to supplement the farm in between harvests. No, it wasn’t a disgust that hurried Farmer Brown’s hands, but the fact that he was needing to get his wheat off to the terminal today as well. There had been signs that the market for wheat was going to dry up, and his wheat was part of a crop share program he devised of to get some investments into his struggling farm. He hoped everything went well and that all his machinery held up through the day. Finishing his second goat he said to himself, “If things keep going this smoothly I’ll be back before sundown!”

Maybelline was having a wonderful day, she had found that patch of clover and even some daisies! She had a nice drink of fresh water at the lazy creek running through the paddock, and then a good long nap in the sun. She couldn’t help but notice that Farmer Brown was making many trips in and out of the yard today. She wondered why he was now so indecisive, when he was normally a “two hands on the plow with a steady gaze forward” kind of man. She did not concern herself for long with these thoughts, however, for he had always cared for her and the other animals with the utmost attention. Just as she was dismissing any concerns for Farmer Brown, and settling in for another nap, she noticed that there was a gate open that was normally closed tightly. Being a curious goat, Maybelline believed it to be her duty to investigate this matter thoroughly at once.

The stress of the day was dissipating off of Farmer Brown’s shoulders on the final drive home. Everything had gone off without a hitch; the tally of bushels of wheat was written down in the terminal manager’s small black notebook, and there was still daylight left for Farmer Brown to enjoy on his porch. The hot autumn air whistled by and the drone of his old International three tonne grain truck brought him a sense of peace and calm. He looked down at the envelope containing the cheque from the terminal and smiled. It wasn’t the highest price he had gotten for grain, but twenty thousand dollars would make everyone who'd put their trust in him happy. Farmer Brown was imagining what everyone’s faces would look like when he informed them of the good profit they had all made by trusting in his judgment, when he turned the corner for his lane and saw his herd of goats in Mrs. Brown’s vegetable garden. The stress of owning a mixed farm fell squarely on his shoulders again. Cursing that he must not have latched the gate properly when he left them this morning, he rattled up beside them and slammed on the brakes. Flying out of his truck, flailing and hollering, he began herding them back to their paddock. Looking around, he assessed they couldn’t have been out that long, since the damage was minimal. Maybe Mrs. Brown wouldn’t have his hide for this.

Maybelline heard the truck come to a stop on the other side of the shed, and the incoherent bellowing from Farmer Brown. She had believed that there would be tastier produce on this side, but she was beginning to realize she was mistaken. Having Farmer Brown return at this moment was the perfect opportunity for her to return to the others and not lose any face for her poor judgment. Despite her desire to maintain her good social status in the herd, she had lingered a little too long. The herd and Farmer Brown were already nearing the gate. Faced with a new opportunity, Maybelline had a decision to make; run after her fellows and hope to not be forgotten, or explore the contents of the garden unhindered by others. There was also a third option, she noticed, which proved most alluring--the parked grain truck had a door open, and there was a sweet smell coming from inside the cab, as if there was a bag of wheat just waiting to share its contents with her.

Closing the gate, Farmer Brown let out a sigh. It just figured that when one thinks all is taken care of, some unforeseen calamity would arise. Walking back to his truck, Farmer Brown again took in the state of the garden. Seeing the shorn carrots and flattened lettuce made him look down and shake his head. He would need a couple of drinks now. There was still light enough to have some relaxation on his porch in the low hanging sunlight. However, just before he jumped in his truck, he looked up and saw one more goat, standing on the seat, with the remains of his twenty thousand dollar cheque in her mouth. He froze, unable to process fully what was happening. How would he explain to the share holders what had happened? An idea came to him. It was the only way that it might work out for him. So, steeling his will, Farmer Brown set about what had to be done.

It was a week later and Farmer Brown was entertaining his share holders over supper. The wheat market had dried up and if he had waited, he would not have gotten half of what it was selling for a week ago. The share holders chattered excitedly as word had gotten around that Farmer Brown had done very well with selling his wheat when he did. Farmer Brown, on the other hand, sat quietly throughout the meal, only answering questions with the minimum response required. Some thought it odd, while others chalked it up to his quiet nature. As the meal finished, Farmer Brown cleared his throat and stood, gaining the undivided attention of everyone in the room. He began by telling them the various problems he had through the year and how after addressing each one head on he was able to coax out an even healthier crop. Then he told them of his love of farming and of the opportunities to face challenges creatively. It was in the next few lines of his speech that left the share holders feeling sick to their stomachs and questioning his sanity, for Farmer Brown retold the tale of his goat eating their money. However, Farmer Brown’s vindication was not in his mere honesty, but the last lines of his speech, “Don’t worry, you shall still receive your share of the profits, in fact, you already have!” The share holders looked at each other, some full of hope, and others with nervousness. Farmer Brown continued, “For the meal you have eaten this evening, was indeed a twenty thousand dollar goat!”