The Academy (The Academy Saga, Book 1) by CJ Daly

The Academy (The Academy Saga, Book 1) by CJ Daly

Author:CJ Daly [Daly, CJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-19T16:00:00+00:00


23

AN IDIOT’S IDIOMS

While I was out in the pasture waiting on the pump to fill the cow tank, I had a long time to cool down and really think things through. A big part of the reason I was going nowhere but backwards was on account of my temper. Like Cadet Davenport—it was still getting the best of me. I’d been using vinegar when I shoulda been using honey, or what Mama referred to as “my feminine charms.” I just hated to stoop to that level; it reminded me of Ashley-Leigh and made me feel phony as those chicken cutlets she insisted we stuff into our training-bars in sixth-grade.

Mama used to say people were born with a strong sense of right and wrong. That you could teach ethical behavior but mostly it was an innate thing people either had or didn’t have. She’d usually pull this little pearl of wisdom out when explaining why I either shouldn’t be upset with Daddy or Ashley-Leigh.

I think in retrospect, she was also describing me—I really couldn’t abide by any wrongdoing. It just went against the grain for me. Like when I was twelve and turned those high school boys in for playing baseball with a hapless frog they found on the field, or when Ronnie and his buddies put gum in that mentally handicapped boy’s hair. I’d spent my whole lunch working it out with some ice.

And the plain truth was: I’d taken enough crap from Daddy in my short lifetime to fertilize every field within a twenty-mile radius. Being the constant recipient of wrongdoing had taken a toll on my affections for my father, and seeing it dished out to my undeserving little brother made it even worse.

The broken pump finally trickled enough water into the tank to sustain the cattle for the next couple of days. I set my chemistry notes aside (that I wasn’t studying anyway). It’s like my brain only had room for a finite amount of problems, and my quota was already filled. Falling out of the truck on heavy legs, I climbed up the railroad cross-tie—that doubled as a ladder—to shut off the switch. The only illumination on this dark night was from the sorry beam of light shining from the one working headlight. So I was standing on a precarious pole, with stakes driven into the side, in virtual darkness, while Daddy was kicked back at home “minding the boys.”

Where was the justice?

A bubble of curse words reserved for boys’ locker rooms erupted from my mouth because the last stake in the pole had just fallen out of the worn divot, causing me to lose both my footing and my temper. I fell the last few feet, landing roughly in cow-trampled muck. Then took an indulgent moment to holler and kick it around until Blue came trotting over warily to make sure I was still in one piece. I accepted his slobbery kisses, feeling plain grateful to him on this lonely night.

“Come on, boy.” I chauffeured the door open for him.



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