The Farm At Maple Hollow - 33. Chapter 33

Rosco was pissed to use a human word. Ears pinned back, the anger he felt as his fillies were being pushed around. That she was in trouble wasn’t in doubt. The other two humans had hurt the older man who was now lying on the ground not moving. The boy who smelled bad, had the her on the ground and was struggling with her clothes. He knew she was in trouble; he could hear her cries despite the hand muffling her mouth.

It took some effort but he was able to fully turn around in the small wooden framed stall. The fat human was bothering the mother of his foal, she was clearly in distress at all the commotion, and was soon to give birth, he could smell the changes and he had an inordinate need to protect his herd. Eyes wide, nostrils flaring, there was only so much space to move in his cramped stall.

Like many barns and buildings built so many years ago, they were sturdily constructed. Wooden posts and beams were so much thicker then, in part because of the intensive labor to create such items. Like all supports, the construction of the stalls in the bottom part of the grandstand stables, was designed to support the massive weight of the structure above considering when fully occupied, the stresses that would be placed on the framing. The planking that formed the sides of the stalls was of similarly constructed. Thick, roughhewn lumber, at least a couple inches thick, was installed to withstand years of hard use and the test of time.

Rosco began kicking at the sides of his massively framed stall, further down Rufus and the rest knew there was trouble and that Maria was about to give birth to the newest family member. To a horse they all showed signs of distress. The angry voice, the neighs of pain from Maria added to the unease. The stench of the boy who smelled bad, was mixed with the rotten odor of his heat. While Rosco’s stall was cramped at least Maria had room to lay down, her water had broken, his foal was coming, something the fat human failed to understand. The skinny human was in heat as well, he could smell his desire and it angered him, that these humans would challenge him.

His need was to protect his herd and using his powerful rear legs he was able to find a way to kick at the door of his stall. It buckled, the sound of wood beginning to splinter. It wasn’t giving in easily but he was determined. The skinny human was now holding the human girl’s hands and the boy who smelled bad was ripping her coverings away. His stink became stronger as his lower clothing was pulled down his legs.

Another savage kick nearly opened the stall door, there was little time to waste, another kick and he could get through and to the boy who smelled bad. With his last, best effort, the door gave way to his onslaught. Struggling to turn again he was at last going through the door just as the human girls’ two companions showed up.

As he went for the boy who smelled bad, he saw the taller companion, take down the fat human with a stick to his leg. The shorter companion stuffed the skinny human into the stall with Rufus, making sure the door was locked. As he came through the broken door, he ignored the splintered wood that dug at his sides and as he reached the boy who smelled bad, he leaned down, grabbing a mouthful of his pants, sending him flying across the stables with a flick of head. Standing between the human girl and Maria, he and her companions would challenge anyone who intended his herd harm.

~~~

Both Sam and Pietro felt as their legs were moving in slow motion though they were running as fast as their legs could carry them. As they got closer to the stables, the indistinct noises were becoming clearer. Just before they got to where they needed to be, Sam held out his arm and stopped them. Drawing ragged breaths, he knew they needed a plan and some sort of back-up. Grabbing the broken off handle of a shovel, Pietro tossed Sam an old haying fork.

By the sounds coming out of that section of the stables, they knew there was trouble ahead, they barely heard Mary’s muffled cries for help along with the sounds of Maria going into labor. Worst of all was the sound of Bobby, that son-of-a-bitch forcing himself on Mary and Rosco’s frantic neighs of distress as he was kicking against the sides of his stall.

~~~

When she finished changing into her shorts and tee shirt, Mr. Janssen called her over to Maria’s stall. Her water had broken and she had lain down as the birthing process was beginning. Grabbing a water pail and clean towel, Mary went to fill it so she could provide some comfort to Maria by gently damping her head as the foal was birthed. Instinctively she was aware that something wasn’t right, she could smell something noxious and out of place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Janssen assaulted by the fat kid called Flubber. As she tried to react, a pair of hands grabbed her, at once slapping her across the face and pushing her down to the hay covered floor.

By the time she was able to comprehend her situation, she realized Bobby Jeanettes was on top of her, struggling with her clothing. It only took a moment for her tee shirt to rip apart exposing her chest. Crying out, she was slapped again, this time much harder, seeing stars form behind her eyelids. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and as she went to cry out again, a hand covered her mouth. The smell of her assailant’s bad breath drew closer as she heard the angry words, not to cry out unless she wanted more of the same.

She heard Bobby Jeanettes tell Toad to grab her hands, to hold them above her head. Looking up as her arms were yanked up forcefully, she couldn’t help but notice Toad had his pants undone and pulled down along with his underpants, his erection bobbing up and down far too close to her face, his stench overwhelming.

~~~

There wasn’t anything Bobby Jeanettes wasn’t angry with. His mother would later tell friends that he was a difficult baby. He didn’t like to be held any longer than it took to nurse or be changed. The last of her three children, she had some idea when it came to mothering and Bobby had left her perplexed. He never wanted to cuddle, or be loved as a normal baby would. As he grew older, he was a solitary child, keeping his own company. Never seeking friends as he started his early school years, keeping his own company.

The oddity in all of this, was that he was a gifted student. As he entered high school, he tested out near the top of his class. It was well known that Bobby had a propensity for trouble, always near as it broke out, never enough evidence as to pin it on him. At some point near the end of his sophomore year, he acquired his posse. Toad and Flubber were on the barely able to graduate track. Like Bobby, the two of them were the school miscreants, seldom, if ever, caught for major infractions, the list of minor transgressions was longer than your arm.

Students jokingly referred to them as the king and queen of the detention hall. While unfounded and unsubstantiated, it was whispered cautiously that they had once be caught pleasuring each other. The problem was that the rumor was true, it was Bobby Jeanettes who had caught them in the act, so to speak. Bobby had an outlet for the hormones surging throughout his body as puberty took hold. While he wasn’t gay, it was easy to justify using Toad and Flubber as an outlet, as the needs of his body demanded.

While not exactly a social pariah, Bobby had difficulty relating the fairer sex. Good girls avoided him like the plague, those who were known to be easy, rarely enjoyed his attentions a second time. Part of Bobby’s sexual make-up was the need to be dominant and as the mood would strike him, inflicting pain, both the verbal along with the physical, was just part of what made him tic.

The problem tonight was that he was in need, angry they had been tossed out of the fairgrounds, he had consumed far too much on a nearly empty stomach. He was angry at the folks who laughed at him as he was led from the grandstand. He caught the look of distain and it fueled his anger, somehow, someone was going to pay for the way he felt tonight. Reaching his vehicle, he pulled a pint of cherry brandy from out behind the seat. His escorts, if that was what you’d call them, had turned to go back, believing that he and his companions were leaving the fairgrounds.

The brandy was gone far too quickly, the beers had run out some time ago and the cooler was empty except for the half-melted ice sloshing around. All the stores that sold or would sell more alcohol to him had long since been closed, including his father’s store. Smiling inwardly to himself, he knew where in the bowels of the grandstand, the cases of beer for sale were kept.

It was when they went back for more after their second run that they came across the girl and the old man putting the horses away for the night. Most of what happened remained a blur to him. Swiftly the old man was laying on the floor and with a rapidity that belied his condition, he was had the girl under him. He could recall tearing her tee shirt open while Toad held her arms. He remembered hitting her a couple of time to stop her screaming, the ugly threats he uttered to her. How easily her shorts and underpants were pulled down to her ankles and how quickly he was on his knees and between her legs as she lay helpless.

It took but a moment to pull his clothing down, one hand clumsily fumbling, seeking the opening he needed. With his other hand, guiding his erection he was primed, leaning forward at the point of entry was the last thing he remembered, before he was flying.

~~~

As they came around the corner Pietro spotted Flubber goading Maria and laughing his head off. Lining up, squaring himself off as if he were standing at home plate, Pietro hit a home run right through Flubber’s left knee just as Rosco burst through his broken stall door. At the same time Sam, grabbing a half-naked Toad by the scruff of his neck, he chock-a-blocked him into the stall with an angry Rufus. He wouldn’t be going anywhere with Rufus standing guard.

Both Sam and Pietro saw Bobby Jeanettes go flying across the hall, landing awkwardly and down for the count. Both boys were tending to Mary and Mr. Janssen when the cavalry arrived.

~~~

Chief Woods, a veteran of many years on the police force, had seen much of what life had to offer, the good, the bad, and the ugly. This evening was right up there. He stood there watching as the last ambulance hauled that fat bastard away. A hard man to anger, his blood was coursing just below the boiling point. Mr. Janssen would most likely go to Worcester Memorial for observation, but his signs and prognosis was favorable.

The rescue squad had checked out young Mary, while her regular clothes were in tatters, her friends were able to help her dress back into her riding gear. After a quick once over, she was cleared and released. Immediately, she was over doing what she could to help with the delivery of the new foal. She was lucky, another couple of minutes and it would have been a charge of rape instead of attempted rape.

Bobby Jeanettes wouldn’t be able to count on dear old dad to get him out of this scrape, there wasn’t any money that was going to smooth this incident over. His two friends were also going to go away for a spell, a good long time if he had anything to do with it. There would be a list of charges on the arraignment sheet that would be the delight of any district attorney.

No, while it was something terrible, some good had come out of it he supposed. The town would be rid of some noxious garbage and some folks could be proud of the way they stood up. Hefting once again, the broken-off hickory shovel handle, he could see in his mind’s eye how young Pietro must have stood, when he stepped into the imaginary batter’s box. He had underestimated young Sam Tompkins.

He knew that anger and adrenalin made for unpredictable results, but to have heaved that sorry excuse into that stall with the other horse, simply made him smile. When they were finally able to get into the stall, they found the kid cowering in the corner, pants, and underwear still around his knees. He had to be terrified as the horse had him cornered, it took some effort to get him to clean himself up after voiding his bowels.

What truly amazed him, was that big son-of-a-bitch Rosco. He spent considerable time in the processing of the crime scene, examining the stall. He had been around barns and farms all his life and had never seen the extent of damage as he had tonight. It wasn’t simply the stall door that had been kicked open, supporting, structural beams had been damaged or knocked out of place. When he went up to the next level to further assess the damage there was a noticeable dip in the floor.

He was going to have to take a ride up to Maple Hollow in the morning, he needed to have a word with Ethan, there’d be no charges, it wouldn’t be spoken of, or go in any report. As far as he was concerned, when the horse sent Bobby Jeanettes flying, that’s when he broke his jaw. Thank god Arik was there and got between the two, he probably saved Bobby Jeanettes life, that kid had some balls.

No, what he needed right now was another cigarette. There was at least another cup of his wife’s coffee in the battered thermos he kept in the front seat of his cruiser. Taking a deep drag of the freshly lit cigarette, inhaling the welcoming smoke deep into his lungs, he pondered as to how to begin the report he would eventually have to file. Grimacing as he exhaled and taking a slug of the bitter, black coffee, he’d have to do some containment he thought, but it was manageable. The reports would have to wait till the morning after he had a chance to revisit and get everyone on the same page. He would leave the trip to Maple Hollow early, after speaking with Ethan, he would have a quiet word with Earl, and see if they couldn’t take the boat with a jug of hard cider and do some fishing, he had a hankering for some fresh bass.