The Bull from NE5

Josie nervously rewove her left pigtail into a tighter braid. Her dad used to say they’d made her look young, but a tight braid could also mean business. Truth was she wore braids because they stayed put. She didn’t think much about how they looked.

And why should she? The man from NE5 was coming to look at Rochester, not her. And if all went well she would breathe again properly for the first time in a year.

Josie took a shaky breath. She hated parting with him, though. He’d been her family these last few years alone. But what use did she have for a bull, with no females around? He’d be better off helping the greater good.

If that’s what you could call NE5.

They said they were trying to help end the world’s supply issues. Specifically, meat. Truth of the matter was, most of the world was already used to living without meat. It was the 1% who had gotten used to an unlimited amount that lamented the shortage.

But she couldn’t complain too much, because their offer had been the first hope she’d had in years. It was a strange thing for the profession of a farmer to be so inconsequential in a world whose biggest need was food.

At any rate, at least she’d still have Edward. Dad always hated the idea of her there alone.

Finally, Josie saw movement at the end of the lane. A polished black car turned the corner onto her property and began the long drive her way. Nerves mounted within her as she watched it approach. It looked so unnatural gliding between the pine trees that lined her path; had it been the right choice to invite them here?

Josie took a few steps off her porch as the car stopped by her house. After several minutes, a tall, young man stepped out of the back seat. He sported a black suit, sunglasses, and sandy hair, slicked back. When he spotted Josie, a strange smile broke across his face.

“Josie Hannover?” the man said striding toward her brachishly.

“That’s the name,” Josie said accepting his hand in greeting.

“Wow,” he said, taking his shades off and looking at her, “stunning.”

“I’m sorry?” Josie asked, taken aback.

“Your farm,” he finished, looking around, “it’s a shame they’ll all be gone within a year, isn’t it?”

Josie didn’t know what to say to this brash statement, or its undertones, so she chose to ignore it.

“I suppose you’d like to see the bull?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said smiling again. There was something about the arrangement of his teeth--perfect rows of white exposed by an uncharacteristically wide grin--that reminded her of a shark. Not that she’d ever seen a shark in person. Then again, one doesn’t need to have met a shark to know their danger.

Josie looked to her barn and then back to the car, uneasily. Something felt wrong here. How was he expecting to transport the bull back?

“Maybe your driver would like to join, then I can get us all a cold drink after.”

The man’s smile remained as he answered: “He’s fine where he is.”

Josie wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans and nodded. Then she turned and gestured that he follow her.

The two walked toward the barn in silence, but the man’s gait was brusque and high energy and threw her off. She wasn’t sure what she expected from NE5, but this wasn’t it. Perhaps if he’d been bored or withdrawn she wouldn’t have cared. But this man had the expected authority associated with his company, combined with the charisma of a frat boy. And for some reason that made her uneasy.

Fighting the shake of her hands, Josie opened the door to barn and led him directly to an enclosure on the right.

“Here he is,” she said gesturing to Rochester. The bull puffed and jerked his head, his large horns swaying from side to side in aggravation. He wasn’t used to company.

“How many years do you think he has left,” the man asked, looking the bull over.

“Well, I’m sure you know the reproductive life-span better than I. I’ve had Rochester for four, but we never had the chance to mate him. At the very least you’ll have another couple years.”

She knew she should’ve been pitching Rochester stronger, but now that it came to it, she felt conflicted. Why had it come to this? Her father’s final bequeathment sold to a corporation like NE5…

“You’re a little young to be running this place by yourself, aren’t you sweetheart?” the man said.

Once again, Josie was surprised by his condescension.

“That’s a little non-sequitur, don’t you think?” she tossed back.

“What?” he asked giving her a blank stare.

“What does that have to do with the bull?” she clarified.

The man shrugged, his eyes trained on her far too directly.

“Just seems strange you’d be up here alone,” he said, smile returning, “especially these days. Don’t you…worry about your safety?”

Josie felt her pulse quicken and she fought to swallow. Something was very wrong here.

“Who said I was alone?” she said causally, moving to the other side of the barn and feeding some fresh hay to Edward.

“What about this one?” the man said, noticing the second cow for the first time.

“Oh, Edward’s a steer.”

“So?” the man said, approaching them both and examining the steer. He bore over them both, barely giving Josie a chance to slide out from underneath.

“NE5 wanted fertile male cows. I responded to that request because, well I need the money. But Edward is a steer, and not for sale.”

The man turned and looked at her for a long moment, and then smiled again, that mocking, shark-like grin beneath bright blue eyes.

“Edward is a strange name for a cow.”

“Jane Eyre,” Josie said cooly, simply for the sake of taking the steps away and changing the conversation. She didn’t really want to explain that she was an avid reader and Jane Eyre happened to be her favorite. She doubted he’d get the reference anyways. Expensive suit or not, she’d met this man before, a dozen times over.

“Well,” he said walking toward her again, “we have…other needs. Part of my job is to report if I see anything of value. I can make a report and you’re sure to hear from us again. Or I can just take them off your hands now, for a price you’re happy with. NE5 spares no expense to deliver meat to its customers.”

“I appreciate the offer,” she said backing up as he continued to advance, “but I depend on him a lot.”

“Look, Josie, I’m trying to help you here,” he said slowly, that smile hovering steady, “you do realize, NE5 could just come and take them both right? They can take anything they want…”

Josie felt sick. It was clear now this was a mistake, but there didn’t seem to be a way out. Both metaphorically, and literally, he had her cornered. She tried to think as the man bore over her and lifted one of her braids to his nose. She resisted the urge to knee him between the legs--she wasn’t dumb; that would only lead to an assault charge from a powerful corporation. Nor could she shout for help; who would come?

Before she knew what she was doing, she was laughing. Not coyly or demurely, but a full-on snort, as though his advances were the funniest thing she’d seen all day. She moved away from him quickly, taking advantage of his surprise, and went straight to Rochester.

“What’s so funny,” he said, his tone becoming dangerously offended.

“Mr. NE5,” she said, doing her best to adopt a snide tone, “do you know the difference between a bull and a steer? I mean, besides the obvious?”

The man said nothing as he stared with suspicious eyes.

“I didn’t think so,” she said, “a steer is raised either for beef or the workforce. The act of castrating a male bovine makes them docile. Easy to train, and control.”

Josie slipped into Rochester’s enclosure, keeping a wide berth. He seemed unsettled and in a mood, which she was counting on. Her father had taught her how to manage him, but she could tell by the way the man went rigid, that his hands-on experience with bulls was limited to appraisal.

“A bull, however, never becomes tame. They can still be moved to extreme violence, at any given time. The only way to get a bull to do what you want, is to be the stronger bull.”

Josie slowly began to untether her bull from his post, her movements slow and calm, watching as the man’s eyes darted to the exit. He could make it, if he ran, but it seemed his pride--or maybe fear--kept him frozen. Which was good because Josie wasn’t finished talking.

“You walk onto my property with your judgements and threaten me? I know exactly what NE5 can and cannot demand of me. You have no rights here unless I give them.”

The man put his hands up and he laughed nervously.

“Hey, let’s not get carried away, I meant nothing by any of it. I’m paid to get the company what they want, by any means necessary.”

“So, it seems,” she said, “well you can now report that you’ve lost both animals. If they want to send someone to negotiate properly, they can. But my prices have sky-rocketed because of your indiscretion. You’ll be lucky to afford me.”

“I’m taking the bull,” he spat, “and you’ll be lucky to be paid at all.”

“Yeah? He’s all yours,” Josie said. In one swift moment she opened the gate and prodded Rochester forward with a loud noise and swift smack. The bull wasted no time bucking in fury and charging forward.

The man from NE5 let out a shriek of terror, frantically throwing himself out of the way. The escape was narrow, and the bull rounded back quickly. And that surely would’ve been the end of Mr. NE5.

But Josie had no desire to see the man dead. She moved to the wall and pulled the lever that opened the back doors. They drew Rochester’s attention with their loud mechanical gears, and soon enough, a large spacious field came into view. The bull took the bait and ran out into the open air.

There were several moments of silence as Josie let the man shake in the mud. Eventually he stood, his slick hair mussed with hay, his black suit smeared with mud, his eyes full of shame and avoiding her own.

He knew he owed her his life, that was clear. But no words were exchanged as he brushed his clothes and slowly turned leave. Josie followed him to the edge of the barn, watching as he ducked into the driver’s seat with nary a glance back, and began to drive away.

In shock, Josie fought to breath. Then her phone rang.

“Josie, here,” she answered robotically.

“Hello Josie, this is George from NE5. I just wanted to let you know we aren’t able to make it today. When’s a good time to reschedule?”

Josie’s heart stopped and she ran out to watch the black car turn off her property, realizing in that moment that the man had never said he was from NE5. That he’d intentionally left out his name. That he’d never even had a driver. She’d assumed it all.

Part of her was so disturbed she could barely breath. The other part, so relieved she wanted to sob.

But the real NE5 were still on the phone.

“I’m sorry,” Josie finally responded, watching Rochester buck openly in his field, “I’m not interested in selling.” Then she hung up before they could protest.

Her father hadn’t wanted her to be alone on the farm. And he’d made sure she wasn’t.