The few remaining russet colored leaves blew in the gentle breeze. Mule galloped down a long dirt road with the precious cargo strapped to his back. He ran by a mailbox full of rusty holes and an equally bent out of shape sign declaring this was “Copperhead Rd”. Up ahead the farmhouse greeted them with a big stone chimney and boarded upper windows.
Mule left the road for the dead lawn. There the rotten fibers of a hammock were roped around a big oak tree and porch as it swung. The decking on this side was bent, stripped of paint, and rotting like the jack o'lantern that grinned at them. It had a big hole in it with boards half nailed in a renovation never completed. The siding shingles were stained from decades of weathering and the curtains were drawn tightly hiding the guts of the home from peeping donkeys.
An acorn fell off the single oak tree out front smacking the sleeping cowboy in the face. He remained out cold, laying tied on his animals back while the beast put its snout to the ground and started sucking up acorns, eating the juicy insides, and spitting out the spent shells.
The breeze blew in the fresh smell of apples, buttered crust, and cinnamon. Mule licked his lips, and started around to the other side of the dwelling towards the smell of fresh pie. Out front the paint was still chipped away and the wood well worn. There was some green grass overgrowing, and an orchid of apple trees full of ripening fruit.
Nearby a well with a hand pump sat next to a rock wall. A deserted rocking chair on the porch, and a small table full of ice tea. The apple pie steamed from the open kitchen window where it sounded like dishes were being scrubbed vigorously. This place was definitely inhabited. Mule started backing away from the pastry he had intended to eat. Jed groaned out in pain while he was covered in sweat, trapped deep in the depths of another nightmare.
“Who’s out there?” a woman's voice called from inside.
Mule turned to run, but the door suddenly swung open, and a shotgun was loudly pumped in warning.
“Now what do we have here?” a young woman demanded, aiming at them.
She wore worn jeans, her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, freckles all over, and looked mean despite being only 21. Mule gulped, but decided to play dumb about his true power level. He walked forward with his best begging face. He nuzzled at her rolled up sleeves unafraid of the loaded action.
“Oh boy it looks like a couple lost puppies. Well sorry times are tight andI can’t afford to feed another invalid, no work no houses now shoo get out of here you wild things,” she yelled, trying to spook them.
Mule continued practicing his sad boy routine.
“You dumb beast. Ugh pulling at my heartstrings just like pa used to play his fiddle at the square dances in the corn field parties close to town. Anyways we could use a mule for farm work, and I suppose we can fix that cowboy as compensation.. At least he ain't hurtin nobody in that condition,” she sighed.
She set her gun against the house and fished the gun from Jed’s belt. Next she took the lasso, and tied it to the front porch, and around Mule’s neck. He didn’t resist. Jed was thrown over her muscled shoulder and hauled inside.
“You wait here and I'll get you something to eat, after I take care of the sick men.”
Jed was dragged through the big kitchen where a pot of water boiled. The wallpaper was yellowing and old fashioned, so was the furniture in the den. She kicked open the next door with her dirty farming boots. Inside there were two single beds, it was dark, and smelled like death. One of the beds was occupied by an old man who lay still under thick covers wheezing occasionally. Jed was tossed into the other one in a similar state of poor affairs.
“Now papa I know you always warned me about helping strangers, but I don’t have it in me to turn this one away when he looks like he's probably going to die anyway, and in the meantime I intend to borrow his animal to make our payments on time again,” she said, taking her fathers withered hand revealing crystal scales.
The old man's eyes were cloudy when he opened them. He weakly nodded in acknowledgement, it wasn’t clear if he was really all there. She rolled back his covers revealing more mutations. He grasped her hand and tried to cough, but it barely sounded more than a wisp.
“Oh papa you gotta eat,” she said, picking up a plate on the bedside table.
She picked up a spoon, and forced him to eat his mashed up vegetables. Jed continued sweating in the next bed while breaking into a cold sweat. The woman took the plate, and went back to the kitchen. She scooped squash, potato, and onions out of the boiling kettle, and brought the leftovers outside.
Mule was drooling as he stared down the fresh pie in the window. He wished for nothing else other than to rube his entire face in it and lick up every last drop.
“Well here you are a beast,” Bessie interrupted, sliding assorted vegetables towards Mule.
He stuck his nose up at the blended roots.
“Yuck brussel sprouts,”
She laughed “You would rather have that pie huh, well sorry when I’m done tending to your friend, and you help me out with my chores around the farm I’ll feed you some for dessert as a reward alright,”
She strode across the yard to the well. The cast iron pump squealed while fresh water shot into a bucket. She took the five gallon back towards the house, stopping to pick up the plate of vegetables licked clean.
Inside she poured a silver bowl half full filling the rest with the hot water, then filled a rubber hot water bottle. Next she got a fresh linen and threw it into the bowl. The hot rag was ringed like a chicken’s neck and placed over unconscious Jed’s forehead. The bottle behind his neck as he was nursed back to health by the farmer's daughter. He was moving in his sleep trying to fight back against something invisible in his nightmares by suddenly grabbing at her.
“SLAP!”
Jed was slapped at full force with calloused hands back into a peaceful slumber. Bessie hummed, cleaning his freezer burnt hands, and wrapped over them with roach honey coated bandages.
“Now to find what you've got strapped to your animal. What kind of man are you, mister? I must find out in case you are no good,” she said, walking away to outside.
“Alright mule my name is Bessy, now I'm gonna untie you and your cargo there, and leave it on the porch while we work to do,” she said, reaching for the tie.
Mule resisted untying the keg of jungle juice due to its rarity, and illegal status. They probably still had a couple days to deliver it on time, but he couldn't really remember. It was important that Jed was there to collect the money so he didn't have to show himself, and could remain incognito.
“Listen you there ain’t nobody stealing anything in these parts, but we will lock it inside the house okay,” she assured Mule, and disarmed him further by scratching underneath both his ears.
The keg was rolled inside, and locked in a closet. Mule watched her every move through the screen door. Bessy returned outside, and untied Mule.They walked off the porch, and into the dooryard with her guiding him past a chicken coop filled with squawking hens. A cow pasture was filled with piles of hay, but no no animals ahead. They took another path lined with wood chippings. Past a pile of split wood, and an ax stuck in a stump a fence was lined with the hearty stocks of root vegetables growing underneath them. An old fashioned mini plow sat covered in cobwebs, and dust.
“Maybe you folks can help us finish gettin ready for the winter season, I suppose that’s my angle for taking you in,” said Bessy, tying Mule to the plow.
Bessie gripped the handlebars while Mule began to work. They tilled away with the tool as the donkey slowly pulled. The softened soil revealed plenty of hearty potatoes scattered throughout the loose dirt.
“Well that’s one row we got done, hopefully I can get at least a dozen more out of you Mule, but for now stay put” said Bessie, grabbing a five gallon bucket hanging from a fence post.
She worked the ground over shaking out vegetables and throwing them in the container. When it was full she dumped it off onto a well worn trailer, and hung the bucket back. Mule swatted away flies with his tail whilst he watched. He was rearing to get back into the thick of it by the time she returned. The faster they went the faster he could get the apple pie he wanted so bad. The road had been rough when it came to getting a home cooked meal.
“Ok buddy just one more row to clear,” said Bessie, patting Mules back, and making sure his condition was good.
The first sun was setting while they still worked away on the fields.
“ Phew,'' she exclaimed, resting against the handlebars of the plow. ”You know After mama died giving birth to what was supposed to be my brother that left me and papa alone, the drought hit us hard when I was just a little girl. we were gonna lose everything so papa had to go work in the mines, We had to sell our horses, and cattle, but he saved us from ruin by working hard as a man ever could, now it's my job to keep everything going because he sacrificed his health to save the farm, anyway thank you for helping,”.
She unhooked Mule, and led him past the full trailer of roots.
“I hope your friend is a quarter as hard a worker as you because when he wakes up he’s going to unload these into the root cellar to pay for his room and board,” she finished.
They walked back on the path towards the big farmhouse. Jed surprised them by rocking the chair limply on the porch. His beard was disheveled and his neck looked caked in blood. His clothes were tattered, eyes wild and his face looked haggard, and burned. He stared far out into space while they approached.
“You look even worse than I remember you this morning, but I suppose you're awake, mister,” said Bessie.
“Aye, I wondered where Mule went, Good he found you or you found us miss because I was a goner for sure, my name Jed,” he said, extending a bandaged hand to shake.
“I am Bessie, nice to meet you, might I ask what kind of work you do?” she inquired.
“I am a retired soldier turned trucker who used to be carrying a big rig loaded for a very special wedding. Unfortunately we were attacked by a gang of evil witches who pirated our cargo. I’m glad Mule didn’t abandon me because I would have never fought my way out alone, but I still feel like I’m trapped in an unreal dream,” said Jed.
“No matter if you need to eat your supper so you can recover, your animal is doing enough for now to account for the both of you to stay at the moment,” she said, holding out a hand.
“Nice to meet you. Hopefully we won’t stay any longer than necessary, tomorrow morning we ought to be on the road again,” said Jed, shaking her hand.
“I’ll get you some of papa’s clothes to change into so you look presentable for suppa,” she said.
The dinner was served on a table dressed with a simple cloth. The food was honey ham, yam, mashed potatoes with butter and steamed dandelions. Jed ate on either end of the table while Mule had a bowl underneath. There was an old mining helmet hung proudly on the wall next to pictures of a far younger Pa clearing land. Mule devoured his dinner in seconds and was already licking at the big slice of apple pie that was his payment. Bessie had dinner with her father in his room.
