The Cow-Pie Chronicles (6 page)

“Tommy's right. Chicago's not here and that's all that matters,” Tim said.

Roxy flipped her hair back. “It doesn't matter what Tommy says. Dad says times are changing and we have to keep up.”

“They're not changing for me,” Tim said, clenching his fist in a defiant pose.

“They are. You'll see,” Roxy said.

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Chapter 7

Because of his heavily bandaged foot, Tim got a break from doing his chores for a few days. But that left him with a lot more free time than he was used to, and he had fewer options for fun due to his injury.

After days of limping around the farm on his swollen foot, Tim worked out a plan to ride instead of hobble. He pulled a coil of rope out of the toolshed and carried it to the back of his dad's pickup. He tied one end to the back of the pickup and the other end to the handle of his little red wagon. He placed the wagon really close to the back of the pickup so his dad wouldn't see it. Mr. Slinger was usually in too big of a hurry to look around the back of the truck before driving away.

Tim knew Dad would be in a hurry that day since he had to get to the
back
forty
to relieve Mom of plowing duty on the tractor. If he didn't get there in time, she would get mad at him.

Once the wagon was hooked up, Tim jumped inside it and waited. He then heard his dad walk out of the house, climb into the pickup and fire up the engine. Tim gripped the sides of the wagon as his dad put the truck into gear, revved the engine and let out the clutch. The truck lurched forward, jerking the wagon so hard it flipped Tim right off the back.

Tim jumped up as quickly as he could with an injured foot, a little dazed but unhurt. And that's when he spotted his wagon flipping over and over behind the old pickup as Dad headed around the barn to the rutted dirt lane that led to the back forty.

No point running after him
, Tim thought. He couldn't anyway, because of his foot. Plus, Tim knew his dad drove like a mad man. Heartbroken that his great idea didn't work, Tim hobbled into the barn to find something else to do.

About 30 minutes later, the pickup reappeared, but with his mom driving it at a much tamer pace than his dad. She stopped in front of the house and went in to fix lunch. Tim made his way around to the back of the pickup and found the rope still attached to it. But there was nothing left on the other end but the handle from Tim's wagon.

Tim untied the rope and slowly made his way down the dirt lane that went back to the fields. He had only gone a few yards when he spotted one wagon wheel lying in the grass at the edge of the lane. A few yards farther, Tim found the other wheel with the axle still attached. Another few yards and Tim found what was left of the main part of the wagon—bent and twisted beyond recognition—lying in the weeds next to a fence post.

He picked up the wagon pieces, which were now all junk, and headed back to the barn. He was sad and kept his head down. When a farm kid broke something like a toy, it wasn't replaced. It was history.

Dana spotted Tim walking down the lane and met him as he entered the toolshed. She saw the destroyed wagon in his arms. “What happened to our wagon?”

“Dad ran over it with the truck.”

Dana scowled at her brother, upset at seeing one of their few nice playthings ruined. “Were you sitting in it?”

“No.”

“Too bad,” she said, flashing a devilish grin before leaving.

* * *

With great disappointment, Tim dropped the wagon pieces on a pile of other hunks of metal junk stacked in the back of the toolshed.

Tim then made his way to the barn, still dragging the piece of rope he had tied to the wagon. Stopping in the middle of the open section of the barn, he looked straight up at the main beam, which supported the barn's roof. The beam was a good 20 feet above Tim's head and right over the barn's concrete floor. So what was the first thought that came to him?
What a great place to put up a rope swing!

Tim headed back to the toolshed and dragged out the longest rope he could find. He then returned to the barn and thought out his next move.

The hay
harvest
had just taken place on the farm, so fresh hay bales were stacked high inside the barn, just within a few feet of the lower
rafter
beams
, which also held up the roof. Tim decided he could climb up the hay bales to the lower rafter beams, and then climb up to the main beam and tie on the rope.

After shifting the hay bales around to make his climbing a little bit easier, Tim made his way up to the very top bale, high above the barn's concrete floor. He then reached for the place where the lowest rafter joined one of the vertical support posts. Dana walked in right when Tim climbed up onto the support post.

“What're you doing way up there?” she asked.

“Putting up a rope swing.”

“I'm telling Mom!”

“No! Wait! I'll let you have the first ride when I'm done.”

Dana stared at Tim. He held his breath, worried she would bolt out of the barn and tell on him.

“Hurry up,” she said. Tim wasn't sure Dana agreed because she wanted to swing or because she wanted to see if he would fall and splatter himself all over the floor.

Tim continued climbing the vertical beam until he reached the main beam. Then he had to make a decision—how would he get the rope out far enough on the main beam to keep him and his sister from banging against the wall when they swung on it? There was only one option, and Tim knew what he had to do. He would have to crawl to the center of the main beam, 20 feet up in the air, with no safety net below.

Tim slowly crawled out onto the eight-inch by eight-inch beam, dragging just one end of the rope with him—the rope was too long and too heavy to carry the whole thing. When he was about five feet out on the beam, he looked below.
Boy, that's a long way down! Dana looks like an ant.
He wasn't afraid, but he was sure nervous.

When Tim decided he was far enough out, he carefully wrapped the end of the rope around the wood beam a couple of times before tying it off.

When he was done, he began to make his way back to the lower rafter. But trying to move backward along the beam was way harder than moving forward. Tim wasn't sure he was going to make it.

“What's taking so long?” Dana asked.

Tim looked down at her. She was sitting on the top step to the milking parlor, watching him intently, showing no concern for the danger he was in. “You wanna come up here and try it?” he asked his little sister.

“I'm not stupid—like you!”

“Shut up, Dee-Dee.”

“Poop Slinger!”

When Tim finally made it back to the safety of the hay bales, he grabbed the other end of the rope, which was coiled on bales, and tossed it down. The rope swung out and into position, and the end barely touched the floor.
Perfect!
Tim thought.
It's long enough to tie a knot to sit on!

Excited that his idea just might work, Tim hurried off the hay bales. Dana had already grabbed the rope and was swinging back and forth, but just a few feet.

“Here, let me help you.” Tim grabbed the end of the rope and pulled it back with his sister hanging onto it. He let it go and she swung out almost to the barn door. “Awesome!” he said.

Tim stopped her and tied a big knot in the end of the rope so they could take turns sitting on it. They spent the rest of the day and part of the evening happily swinging back and forth, in circles, even swinging together at the same time. They stayed so late that Mom and Dad went to the barn looking for them. Just as their parents walked in, Tim and Dana swung too wide and slammed into the side of the barn.

“Are you crazy?” Mom asked.

Dana and Tim jumped off the rope in a heartbeat, waiting for their dad to blow up. But he didn't. His eyes, as well as Mom's, followed the rope from the bottom up to where it was attached in the shadows of the main beam and rafters.

The kids' mom looked at their dad and said, “You could've killed yourself putting that up there for the kids! What were you thinking?”

Mr. Slinger stared at his wife, his mouth
agape
. He then turned his attention to Tim, who was standing as stiff as a statue, amazed at this turn of events. Tim was trying to decide if his mom would figure out who
really
put the rope up there or if Dana was going to tell on him—again.

But Devil Dana surprised him. “It's really fun, Dad! Thanks!” Dana said.

Mr. Slinger was speechless. It was the first and only time in his life Tim could remember his dad having nothing to say.

“You better take it down. It's too dangerous swinging in here,” Mrs. Slinger said to her husband.

He looked up at the highest point in the rafters where the rope was connected to the main beam. “I'll kill myself if I try to take it down,” he said.

His wife reached out, grabbed the rope and tugged on it.

“It's safe,” Tim said.

“Nothing on this farm is safe with you two around,” Mom said.

“Is it safer to live in town?” Dana asked.

“I don't know, but at least it will be a lot easier to keep an eye on you two,” Mom said.

Their parents walked out, leaving Tim and Dana standing silently next to the rope.

“What did Mom say?” Tim asked Dana.

“Something like ‘It'll be a lot easier to keep an eye on us,' I think,” Dana said.

“Why did she say ‘will be'?” Tim asked.

“I don't know. But it's time for supper,” Dana said, walking out of the barn.

Tim stayed in the barn for a few more minutes, standing next to the rope swing. A cow's
moo
echoed through the barn and a pigeon flew into the rafters to
roost
 
for the night. It was as if time were standing still. But something told him it was not.

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Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks, Tim's foot healed and was as good as new, although he still faked a limp as long as possible to keep from doing his chores.