Page 31 of Fibre and Ink

We were both silent for a moment, remembering where board games had led us.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “But I need someone else for those.”

Aster nodded. “The drag shows are the main thing I miss from Sacramento, that and my friends.”

“Anything else?” I wanted the easy conversation to continue, the tension was all but gone even with the mention of board games. Aster sighed. “Movie theaters. I miss going to see a movie on the big screen.”

“We have Hartsville.”

“Yeah, but that’s a drive, it’s not the same.”

“I guess not.” I flipped the grilled cheeses on my cast iron pan and pressed them down with the spatula. “Seeing all the new releases must have been nice.”

“And art house stuff, foreign films, you know. Weird shit.”

“I haven’t seen too many movies like that.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ve stuck mostly to classics of Hollywood.”

“Well, you’re missing out.”

I smiled at Aster and served up his grilled cheese. “I’m beginning to think that staying on the farm here has meant I’ve missed out on a lot of stuff.”

“Maybe,” Aster said slowly. “But maybe I’ve missed out on stuff too, not staying around, not putting down roots.”

“So, what exactly is the plan?” Aster had put on workboots and was following me into the pasture.

“I’ll head over to where they’ve left all their planning stuff, and you open the gate here. The herd will follow me and cause havoc.”

"Wouldn't it be easier to pull them up ourselves?” Aster pulled his borrowed cowboy hat further down on his forehead.

“I believe it’s called plausible deniability.” I grinned at Aster. “Sometimes alpaca escape the field, and there’s nothing I can do about that but get them back, right?”

Aster laughed, a wild gale of music.

I hated how much I loved that sound.

I wanted to hear Aster’s laugh every day for the rest of my life.

Focus, Mickey.

I climbed over the fence and examined the stakes and markers the workers had left in the ground. Pulling them up would be easier, but I didn’t want to leave evidence of human tampering.

By the time the alpaca had wandered through here, they couldn’t even track me by my boot prints.

Aster opened the gate, and held out carrot sticks to attract the herd. It worked like a charm. Soon Aster was leading the alpacas out like he was the pied piper.

I called to the herd as well. “Daisy! Aladdin! C’mere Mulan! Stitch!” The alpacas looked between the carrot sticks in Aster’s hand and me and moved quicker.

It worked like a charm, the alpacas crowded around me, and then mingled around the area, kicking over wooden stakes and stomping all over the spraypainted markings on the ground.

“This was a genius idea, Mick.” Aster nodded, chuckling as another stake went down.

“Thanks,” I said. “The tricky bit will be getting them back into the field. Sometimes I wish I could let them wander free and trust them to return to me in the evening, but much as I love them, they’re not quite smart enough to be trusted. Plus, there’s bears and things in the woods.”

Aster dug in his pocket for more carrot sticks. I loved that he’d thought of that, and that he knew not to stand directly behind the alpacas. It was a lesson we all learned early when caring for hoofed mammals. Standing directly behind one was the best way to get kicked.

“I don’t know if I’ve got enough to get them all back.” Aster started backing up the track to the open gate. “C’mere guys, Huey, Dewey and Louis!”

I chuckled. “You lead them, I’ll bring up the rear. Together we can sheepdog them, I reckon.”