Harris and me : a summer remembered Read Online Free

the side of the barn were wooden pigpens, which seemed to be full of living boulders—enormous pigs that could have walked through

    the flimsy boards whenever they wished, or so it looked—and I was just going to ask Harris what kept them in when he stopped dead.
    "Oh no . . ."
    I had been following him closely and bumped into him when he stopped. He was scanning the yard and the area around the chickens, looking toward the top of the granary roof, which was to our right, and peering into and under the machinery.
    "What's the matter?" I asked.
    "I don't see him."
    By this time I had figured Harris was pretty much invulnerable; it didn't seem that anything could harm him. But he was clearly concerned and I felt his uncertainty infect me. The hair went up on my neck. "Don't see who?"
    "Ernie. I don't see Ernie. It ain't good when you can't see him."
    "Who"—I looked quickly around—"is Ernie?"
    But Harris wasn't listening. He kept scanning the yard and started walking toward the barn, walking so fast I almost had to jog to catch up to him.
    "It's bad, me forgetting. It's 'cause you're here, of course, and you had to walk up old Vivian's butt and get a little kick and make me forget to watch . . . LOOKOUT!"
    He had turned and was looking over my shoulder to my rear and his eyes grew wide. I half whirled,

    had a fleeting image of wings—huge wings, the wings of death—coming at my face and then Harris grabbed my hair and threw me down on my face out of the way.
    "You feathered pile of . . ."
    Harris was on his back, then on his hands and knees, and then on his back, rolling over and over, beating at what looked like a giant ball of dust and feathers and wings. This broiling mass of dust and profanity moved in the direction of the granary, bounced against the wall. I saw an arm shoot out of the middle and grab a piece of board and start beating the feathers until the dust settled and Harris was on his knees, holding the board with both hands, pounding on what seemed to be a tired feather duster on the ground.
    "Damn you, Ernie. I'll teach you to jump me that way . . ."
    I had risen to my feet gingerly—half expecting some form of attack from a new direction (it hadn't been a good morning so far)—and moved to see what Harris was beating on.
    My movement distracted Harris momentarily and as he looked up there was a scurry of more dirt and feathers and his enemy disappeared in a hole under the granary floor. But not before I could get a look at it.
    "A chicken?" I asked. "That was a chicken?"

    Harris stood, threw the board aside, and brushed the dirt from his pants. "Hell, no—it's a rooster. Ernie. If you hadn't made me look up I would have killed him, too. He's been working on me for years. I just hate it when I can't see him."
    I leaned down and peered under the granary, saw one yellow eye glaring back at me out of the darkness.
    "He's got to jump me by surprise. In a fair fight I can whip him, but when you can't see him . . . that's the only way he can get me."
    Now that the dust had settled I saw that Harris was scratched and torn in several places on his chest and one cheek. "You're bleeding."
    He wiped the blood off. "It's his spurs. He gets to raking with them and it cuts some. I'd like to kill the old thing but Pa, he likes Ernie. Says he's good to keep the hawks and owls away."
    I could believe that. I didn't know anything about hawks and owls but I sure wasn't going to tangle with him.
    Harris was halfway to the barn and I hurried to catch up—not wishing to be left too close to the hole under the granary floor.
    "We got to separate," he said. "And we're late."
    "Why separate? Is there something else going to come after us?" I looked back, to the sides, half ready to duck.

    "No. Not us, dummy. The milk. I thought I'd give you a chance to learn about the farm and the best way to start is separating." Harris paused to cough and spit and look away—a sure sign, I would find, that he was lying through his teeth.