Winds of Life by Patricia McClure

Author:Patricia McClure
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wayzgoose Press

Paul entered the church late. Jacob noticed he sat as far from the community as one possibly could in an octagonal room. After Mass, Paul stood in the atrium glaring and trying to be intimidating.

“Cut it out,” Jacob said.

“Get away, you killer,” Paul hissed.

“I was not holding the ax,” Jacob snarled back.

Paul glared at Ambrose. “You didn’t stop him.”

Father Joannicus and Ms. Carr entered the atrium.

“Father Jonah, they lied. They kill things--the chickens and my kittens. I saw them killing everything in the barn,” Paul yelled, running over to them.

Joannicus raised his eyebrows at Jacob and Ambrose.

“What? Are you crazy? Why did you let him witness that?” Barb said, shaking her head.

“Wasn’t intentional. It’s a farm. We eat meat. The kid needed to learn,” Ambrose said, crossing his arm.

“We eat the animals,” Paul said. Horror filled his face. “We eat kittens.”

“No, of course not. But the animals at the farm serve a function. They’re not pets,” Joannicus said, moving toward the door.

Paul crossed his arms, reminding Jacob of Ambrose.

“My kittens were serving a function. They were playing with me.”

Ambrose followed Joannicus out of the church.

Jacob was sure he liked what he heard. Ambrose spared the lives of kittens. Paul was changing his confreres. The order of life was changing all because of a child.

Barb and Jacob followed the pair, and Paul raced after them through the garden.

Ambrose stopped and turned. Everyone froze in place. “Listen up, Little One, the farm animals are not companions. You can’t have them as pets. That is final,” Ambrose said, raising his voice.

Paul crossed his arms. “Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, and Ralph?”

“I spared Ralph and friends,” Ambrose said. “But they are working cats. They’ll not be pet-ified,” Ambrose said as Paul stood toe to toe with the large man.

“I want them all,” Paul said.

“No, too many cats.”

Joannicus looked at the ground, avoiding conversation.

“You killed my kittens. You murderers,” Paul shrieked, his face turning purple.

Jacob’s heart ached for Paul as they entered the hallway outside the refectory.

“Couldn’t you find homes or fix them?” Barb sputtered, taking up Paul’s cause.

“Look, lady, you take care of your vermin your way, with your laws and rules,” Ambrose said, stopping again and glaring at her. “I do it my way.”

“You killed them,” Paul said, anger dripping from every word.

Ambrose’s face turned red, and his voice took on a menacing growl.

“It’s the reality of farm life. Farm animals are not pets. Farm animals work or are food. We cannot have hundreds of cats running around. Pets are a nuisance.”

“I’m a nuisance. You say that every day. You gonna kill me?” Paul shouted as tears ran down his face.

As shocking as these words were, this logic didn’t surprise Jacob. It seemed sane from the perspective of an almost six-year-old.

“That is utter nonsense,” Ambrose retorted. “You’re a boy, not a kitten.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like you. I’m never going to speak to you again. Never.”

Paul ran away from them. Jacob’s appetite drained. Ms. Carr was stunned. They needed help.

“Fat chance that will last,” Ambrose mumbled, running his rough hand over his face.

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