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When Ben looked back on it, he could only blame the alcohol. Well, the alcohol and his own sometimes whimsical imagination. Who wouldn’t have wanted a cozy fall getaway? He should have been suspicious when Qui had plied him with fine wine and roasted vegetable lasagna followed by an apple tart and aged bourbon. Qui was a kind man, but not that kind.
Ben had been sitting on the couch, warm and dazed and pleasantly full, Anakin’s head resting in his lap. The object of his affection was lightly snoring. God knew Anakin didn’t hold his alcohol as well as Ben did. Anyway, that was when Qui popped the question. Not that question, no, he was already married to Anakin, and Qui was a little too something for Ben’s taste.
“Now, my dear boy, Anakin’s already agreed, but he told me I needed your approval,” Qui asked, intriguingly.
“Mhmmm,” Ben murmured, curious as to what would require his assent.
“I own a little hobby farm, inherited it from one of my friends.”
Ben nodded. He knew nothing of this farm but had learned to not be surprised about anything Qui had to offer. Ben also knew of Qui’s friends and their get-togethers. He remembered back to the ill-forsaken camping trip where he’d danced, high as a kite, around a campfire. At least he hadn’t been naked; it had been very cold and that did nothing for certain parts of the anatomy.
“I need the two of you to keep an eye on things for a few days, feed the animals and the like, nothing onerous. It’s a couple hours south of the city. It’s a nice place, with a fireplace. There’s an apple orchard nearby.”
“Will this be like the camping?” Ben asked. He could feel his voice growing higher with worry.
“Nothing like that. You’ll be staying indoors, in the farmhouse. I do admit that there’s no Wi-Fi, but it has the other normal amenities.”
It didn’t sound so bad and could turn into a romantic fall adventure. Ben was still a little leery. “I don’t know anything about animals, other than cats,” and ponies. He had a secret fear of them after a childhood incident with an especially vicious ‘Patches’.
Qui gave him a warm, welcoming smile. “Don’t worry about that. Anakin does, and I’ll leave instructions.”
The mini vacation would also give him some uninterrupted writing time, without the distractions of email and the like. He imagined sitting by the fireplace with Anakin, drinking apple cider after apple picking on a crisp fall day. Ben conveniently ignored the fact that he hated dirt and mud and being cold and wet, as well as anything that interfered with his usual routine. Looking back on it later, he blamed the alcohol.
Anakin and Ben left for the farm on a Friday in the late afternoon, the weekend after Halloween. As they drove, the city gave way to rolling hills and oak forests interrupted by rivers, both big and small. It had rained recently, and the waters were high. The sun set on the fields as they drove, and the wind whipped the jeep around the road as it howled mournfully. Ben couldn’t wait to cozy up next to the fire.
When they arrived, it was well past dark. The farm was off a long driveway, a stark white, two story house illuminated by a single light post. They parked by the house, and in the distance, Ben could see the dark shapes of a barn and several outbuildings.
“Well, we’re here,” Anakin said as he yawned and stretched, getting out of the Jeep. They’d been quiet on the way up, each lost in their own thoughts, worn by the week’s work.
“Thank god. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Ben said. Anakin grinned at him in response.
Anakin had been working the night shift lately and they’d been like ships passing in the night. They used to be better at coordinated things so that they had a little time together on these odd weeks, though perhaps they’d fallen into complacency. Ben had missed him so much that his bones ached. Less poetically, he was a little bit, if he was forced to admit it, horny.
They carried their bags up the rickety front stairs, and Anakin fumbled around with the keys while Ben stood there and shivered. The wind was rattling dried leaves around the almost frozen ground, making an eerie sound. Ben just wanted to get inside and have his way with Anakin.
The door finally opened, and they stumbled inside the dark house, throwing their bags on the ground and shutting the door behind them. The house was not much warmer than outside, but at least it wasn’t windy.
“We’ll have to get it heated up… and find the light,” Anakin said, peering around.
Ben felt impatient and itchy. He just wanted Anakin to himself. “I’ll make you warm,” Ben said as he pulled Anakin against him and drew him into a passionate embrace.
Anakin made a funny little squeak but didn’t fight him. Ben ran his hands along Anakin’s back, then snuck them under his belt and over his delicious ass as Anakin wiggled against him. He ran one finger down between…
“Whoa there tiger, maybe we should get the lights on first?” Anakin said, backing away.
“We don’t need lights for what I have in mind.”
“I know, but in about ten minutes we’re going to be cold and uncomfortable. We need to know where things are. Plus I want to clean up a bit- I feel kind of grimy.”
“Fine. I relent- for now,” he said, giving Anakin a mock pout.
Anakin reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey baby, you can delay gratification for a little bit.”
“I hate it when you’re the wise one,” Ben said, sighing.
Anakin grinned in the near dark. “I know.”
Anakin turned the flashlight on his phone and started looking around for a light switch and found one, but unfortunately, things were not illuminated. “Hmm, I better go look for the fuse box.”
Ben stood there, sighing. All his amorous intentions draining out as the cold, damp air started to settle in his bones. The wind continued to howl mournfully. He felt like the unwitting victim in a murder house. He seemed to be standing in the kitchen, dark shadows of doorways leading off into the unknown. A small, frightened part of him wished he’d gone with Anakin.
Accepting of his fate, he wandered over to the adjacent sitting room, plopped down on what appeared to be a couch, and awaited death, or at least the return of Anakin. Thankfully, he was greeted by the latter.
“Um, Ben, I kind of have bad news.”
What other news was there in these situations? “Yes, dear?”
“None of the fuses were blown. I think the wind blew down a power line or something.”
“Well, it should come on soon enough, right? I’m sure someone is working on it.”
“I don’t know, baby. We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere.”
“Well, we’ll just find something to do in the dark…” Maybe Ben’s libido would make a comeback. He thought about how Anakin’s warm, soft skin felt under his hands. Yeah, it probably would.
“The furnace won’t work without power. It’s going to be a cold night.”
Ben had turned his flashlight on by now and looked about the room. “There is that fireplace, and some logs by it.” Ben wasn’t going to pretend that he had any idea how to start a fire. Anakin was handy; hopefully he did.
Anakin approached the fireplace and opened the grate, placing some sticks in a pile. Ben watched in rapt fascination. Sometimes he felt like the most useless human imaginable, but at least he was rather clever, and he seemed to make Anakin happy. Anakin reached up to fuss with the flue or some such thing, and a Ben heard a curious whooshing noise. He jumped back as a huge pile of ash blew into Anakin’s face as it landed in a massive heap at the base of the fireplace.
“So much for a fire,” Anakin said, rocking back on his heels.
“We could find somewhere to stay for the night?”
“Babe, there’s nothing nearby. It’s not like we can drive to the Hilton down the road.”
Ben bit back a snide remark then wiped at Anakin’s sooty face with his sleeve. “Must I remind you that this was not my idea?”
“No.” Anakin appeared contrite, at least that’s what his expression looked like in the dim light, that or gas. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired and if I wasn’t dirty before, I sure am now. Let’s just go to bed, pile up under blankets, and figure it out in the morning.”
Ben sighed and scrubbed at his stubble, resigned to his fate. They were both too tired to drive back and the animals needed them. There was a whole list of chores that Qui had sent them with. They couldn’t let the chickens or goats or barn cats starve. “All right, my sweet. I think I have some wet wipes for your face.”
They trotted up the narrow stairs to the upper level and found the bedroom they were to use, the one to the left. There was a bathroom across the hall, but it didn’t do them much good without power. Ben cleaned Anakin up as best as he could, feeling like a mother with a sticky toddler. Ben put on his sweats and noted that Anakin wasn’t wearing anything but boxers. Must have forgotten pajamas, though come to think of it, he never wore them, much to Ben’s delight.
They dove under the blankets. The air in the room was drafty and reminiscent of an unopened, underground tomb. It thankfully didn’t smell like one, just like dust and pine sol.
Ben manhandled Anakin into his arms and pulled him into Ben’s favorite position- Anakin as the little spoon. Anakin snorted. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”
Ben had to prove himself useful in some way. “Certainly not. You don’t have pajamas. I am your sole source of warmth.”
“Yeah you and the 5 blankets.”
“I am much warmer than a blanket.”
“I guess. I’ll keep you for now,” Anakin said, fondness warming his voice. Ben settled his arms around Anakin’s waist and closed his eyes.
Anakin wiggled, then settled against him. Before long his breathing slowed and then Ben drifted off as well. Thought the air was frigid and damp, it was pleasantly warm under the covers. By the time there was a hint of light in the sky, they were awoken by a most jarring noise, Anakin’s phone. Ben groaned and buried his head under the pillow, willing it to stop but also dreading the expected conversation.
“What?” Anakin grumbled. “I really can’t. I’m out of town.”
“A couple of hours.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Just four hours? Fuck! I hate all of you, and the people that crashed their cars,” Anakin replied, the warmth in his voice belying the angry statement.
This would have been an odd one-sided conversation, but Ben was used to it. The hospital Anakin worked at was always short nurses, it seemed. Maybe if he closed his eyes it would be just a bad dream…
Anakin shook him gently. “I gotta go in- just for a little while. Will you be ok?”
Ben sat up and scratched his belly thoughtfully. “Yes, Anakin, I’ll make a brave attempt to avoid any catastrophes for a few hours. Just leave the list of chores for me.”
Anakin grinned and ruffled his hair. “Just do whatever you can manage. I’ll help with the rest when I get back.”
“Is the power still out?”
Anakin walked over to the light switch by the door and flicked it up without any resulting light. “Yup,” he said, grimacing. He began to pull on some clothes from his bag. “If they’re making me come in, they’re going to have to deal with my lack of shower.” There was still a bit of ash in his hair.
Ben roused himself a few minutes after Anakin left. He went down to the kitchen, frowned about the lack of tea, and studied the list of chores. The first two seemed easy, put out some feed for the barn cats and chickens. He pulled on his jacket and headed outside.
The cats were in, well, the barn, so he’d head there first. Walking into the dim space, he spotted a few stalls, one which held a shaggy Shetland pony, which whinnied softly at him. He stepped back in terror, backing up against the wall of the barn. Ponies were terrifying. The resulting noise roused a veritable herd of cats, which emerged like the rising tide from the bales of hay.
Large, small, brown, orange, tabby, and calico, they began swarming his legs and mewing frantically, which didn’t help his nerves. He staggered towards where the feed bins were, trying not to step on a cat. As he approached the bin, the crying began again in earnest, reaching a vigorous crescendo. He was afraid that if he didn’t feed them in the next 30 seconds, they would likely eat him. With shaking hands, Ben opened the bin and scattered the food across the gravel floor, as was described in the instructions. In the minds of the cats, he quickly became irrelevant.
He fed the chickens, which was less terrifying and walked back towards the house to recuperate. On his way in, he looked out towards the fields, some of which were fenced in. He didn’t see any creatures in any of them. The latch on the closest pen was open and swinging in the breeze. For that matter, so was the kitchen door. He must not have shut it firmly enough. It wasn’t like there was any heat to let out, so it was no matter.
He walked back into the kitchen, wondering if he could still light the gas stove without power just so he could have tea. The scene in the kitchen was both perplexing and unusual. Inside the poorly lit space were several small goats. Who knew there were goats of that size? They would have almost been cute if they weren’t up on the counters and tables, little tails wagging. One was eating a roll of paper towels in gleeful bliss.
Ben tried to shoo them out the door, but they just chased him around the table, occasionally jumping into the air like it was the best game ever. He tried to catch one, but they were canny and had sharp, little hooves. Bruised, under-caffeinated and grouchy, he sat down on one of the kitchen chairs sighed, attempting to make another plan to de-goat the kitchen.
During this period of restless contemplation, he heard a loud knock at the door. Ben wondered who in hell would be out here. Maybe it was one of Qui-Gon’s friends and more importantly, maybe they could help with the goat infestation.
The personage at the door was a short, irate appearing woman of late middle age, hair still in curlers. She wasted no time getting to the point. “Get your ass out here and remove your cow.”
“Excuse me?”
She poked him in the shoulder. “Your cow.”
She looked Ben up and down with an unapproving glare, not that she was one to judge. He chose this moment to remember that he was wearing pajama pants and a chalet style sweater, accompanied by a winter hat with a pompom on it.
“What cow?” He’d missed his morning tea.
“You’re not one of the usual parade of freaks I see staying here, but I’ll say it slowly for you. Please remove your cow from my property. Now.”
Ben shook his head, trying to clear it. “I’m sorry ma’am, but where is this cow?”
“In my field. Across the road.” She prodded him again in fury. “You need to get that godforsaken animal out of my fields. This summer it ate all of my cabbages. All of them. My prize-winning cabbages.”
“Of course. At your service,” Ben said, bowing slightly for unknown reasons. The woman was unnerving him, and he strangely felt like he’d fallen into the Hobbit.
“Get a move on. Across the road,” she said, storming off.
Ben had no idea how to lead a cow. He walked back to the goat kitchen and opened the warm refrigerator. There were sadly no cabbages, but there were some slightly dodgy looking apples. He put his coat on again and placed a few apples into his pockets. In the barn, there were a few halters and leads, one was labeled “Reginald” and the other was “Daisy”. He assumed Daisy was the cow.
With trepidation, he crossed the highway. A small, red farmhouse sat nestled in a copse of trees, and beyond that was an empty field containing a solitary cow. He picked his way through the mud and muck, quietly approaching Daisy.
She was the prettiest cow he’d ever seen. He’d never imagined a cow could be so lovely and endearing. Fawn-colored and soft, she seemed small for a cow and her eyes were a liquid, chocolate brown with the longest lashes he’d ever seen. She blinked at him enticingly.
“Daisy? Is that your name?”
She tilted her head, quizzically. Ben slowly approached her and patted her soft neck. Though small for a cow, she was still much larger than him. He tried not to show fear. He held out the halter, and she didn’t shy away, demurely allowing him to place it on her neck. He gave her one of the apples, which she accepted delicately.
“Come now Daisy, be a good girl. Let’s go back to the barn.” He sighed. Never did he imagine that he’d be talking to cows. Daisy didn’t reply.
He gently tugged at Daisy, and she took a step forward, then a few more. He walked forward more aggressively, trying to pull her along. This wasn’t too bad, at least, not at first. She complied for a little while, clearly humoring him. He continued to lead her out of the field, until Daisy stopped abruptly in the muddiest part of the pasture.
His feet, clad rather inappropriately in his Ferragamo boots, decided they could not fight against the will of an 800 lb. creature, especially not in deep mud. He fell back, sitting backside down into the cold muck, still holding the lead. He desperately didn’t want to lose her. That woman was terrifying.
Daisy, sensing an opportunity, started to canter forward, dragging him along. He rolled forward, now face down in the mud which was frigid and smelt of rotting earth. He craved death. Daisy stopped her tirade, and turned to look at him, face as sweet as a cow’s could be. He pulled himself up and tried to regroup, well, regroup as much as he could now that he was coated in mud.
Fortunately for Ben, Daisy wasn’t entirely evil and eventually, she gave in, bribed by the remaining apples and a slow gait. He managed, but by the grace of some harvest god, to get her into one of the pens and shut the latch.
Ben slumped onto the steps leading up to the kitchen door and nearly sobbed when he remembered that the power was still out and there was nothing but frigid water from the well to wash with. He stumbled inside and found some old, voluminous barn coat and threw it over his muddy clothes, no longer caring. In the kitchen, still occupied by goats, he found a bottle of bourbon. This may have been worse than the camping.
Anakin drove back in that afternoon, glad to finally be off. He pulled up to the house and went in the back door. The kitchen was a disaster, overrun with miniature goats. “Ben?” Anakin called out, a little worried. There was no reply.
Anakin searched through the house but couldn’t find him. They only brought the one car, so he couldn’t have gotten too far. He walked out to the barn and wandered into an alarming scene.
Ben was sprawled amidst the hay bales, covered in a giant, canvas coat and heaped with cats. His face and hair were coated in dried mud. In his one hand that was free of cats, he held a mostly empty bottle of liquor.
Anakin couldn’t think of anything to say. “Um, Ben?”
“Anakin. Daisy, Daisy she led me astray,” he said, taking a swig out of the bottle. “She’s a hussy, the bloody cow.” His normally faint accent was quite pronounced.
Anakin was even more confused. Was he talking about a woman? What in the hell had happened? Even in his drunken state, Ben must have recognized his confusion. “The cow. The blast damned Jersey cow.”
At this moment, Anakin looked up and saw the light come on above them, illuminating Ben’s muddy, tired face. “Baby, I have to ask. Why are there goats in the house?”
They both decided they were never helping Qui-Gon again, at least not for the next few weeks.