power farm

The TV people were in the duck pond.

StoryKettle » Power » power farm

Copyright © 2014, Michael M Wayman

I've had enough! I've got enough! I want out. I've got this dream about buyin' some land. I'm gonna give up the power and the monster shows. And then I'll settle down on this quiet little farm. And forget about everything.

I did it. I moved to a quiet country, learned the language and bought the farm. I married a local girl – she don't know about my past – I ain't going to tell her. We've got a small herd of cows, an orchard and a field where we grow all sorts of stuff. It's hard work, but we like it. I especially like the lack of monsters.

We're part of a community of about 25 farms, half the people live in the village – yes, there is a church and a pub. Every morning there's a farmers' market, the big town is only ten kilometres away. We sell fresh milk and cream and whatever is in season, rhubarb, cherries, leeks, cabbage, apples and potatoes. We usually sell out by midday.

I had been thinking about making cheese from the milk, but it takes too long; I'm going to buy ice cream making equipment – imagine cherry ice cream made from fresh milk and fruit.

“What's that?” She pointed to the horizon, I looked, it was big, green and round, it was a monster, “I don't know.” I lied. Was it looking for me? I didn't know.

About a week later, it was a Thursday, the monster visited the farmer's market, it was big, green and round. What did it want? And who was really angry?

I came here to get away from monsters. The anger grew bigger inside me, not that I wanted to hit the monster, far too dangerous. The power inside me grew and grew – it must feed on my anger. I stared at the monster, my face the colour of the beetroots we were selling.

The monster disappeared with a whoosh into the heavens. I drank a five litre jug of milk, I had to, the power forced me. But only my wife noticed; I had to tell her the truth, my years with monsters, my life as a celebrity in another land, Jim Power the Exterminator of Monsters, my desire for a quiet life. She understood.

The next day the farmers' market was full of people, everyone wanted to see a monster. I worked at home and my wife sold everything in the first hour, but no monsters.

The next day, a Saturday, we were late for the market, one of the cows had a big gash on her foreleg that needed binding to stop her chewing it. There was no room for a stall, we sold everything from the back of our pickup truck. I've never seen so many people in the village.

All eyes were on a very large and, in my experience, a very nasty, white monster with red splodges. It was eating a red car, not that it had teeth, it had no heads, the car was slowly disappearing into the monster.

One man, who could have been the car owner, took out a gun and fired at the monster repeatedly. The monster ignored the bullets. The man ran at the monster, hit it and disappeared into the monster never to be seen again.

This is dangerous I told myself, I felt the power rising up in me. The full theatrics of course, the sun sunk, I've never seen a green sunset before, the sky darkened, thunder and lightning, some people took off all their clothes and sang, some took off their shoes and danced, some ate their dogs and bicycle gloves, it rained acorns.

The monster compressed itself to the size of a tennis ball and took off, somebody switched the sun back on, the ground was covered in marigolds and I ate all of the unsold beetroot.

That evening there was a special community meeting. It took place in the great barn as usual, jugs of beer were passed around, everybody had a chance to speak her or his mind. Some were frightened, the monsters were dangerous. Some were happy, the monsters bring more town people to the market and we make more money. Some wanted more money, by bringing in the people from the TV, the appalling media people.

I stood and said that I had come to the community for a quiet and honest life. My wife and I had worked hard and life was good to us. But the TV people would ruin it, they want to control everything, you lose your life. I said that I would leave the community if the TV people came. Some thought that I attracted the monsters, some thought that I exterminated the monsters, some wanted the money.

The next day the TV people came to the village, they filmed everything, but no monsters. Early the next morning they came to our farm, they filmed us milking the cows, picking cherries and gathering cabbages. We were ready to go to market, but no, the TV people wanted more pickies.

I lost my temper and the power rose up in me. One by one the TV people jumped head-first into the dung heap. I pointed out the hose and the water tap to them and I left for the market.

It was crowded and there was a monster, a really huge, nasty, white one, but with orange splodges. It was eating two cars, it must have been hungry. After an hour the awful and now disgusting TV people arrived and filmed the monster. I told them to stroke it, but they were not that stupid.

A thick fog poured into the market place, the green area between the buildings in the village, most people panicked, I just waited. The fog cleared, the TV people were in the duck pond, the monster was gone, as were the two cars and I ate, or tried to eat, a large slab of home-made toffee from the next stall.

What could I say? Nothing, my mouth was full of toffee, it was stuck to my teeth, my mouth was wedged open, most uncomfortable. We drove home and I wrote a letter to my wife:

Dearest Wife,

you have told me that you have not travelled, you have told me that you want to travel, you have told me that you want to see the world. We have had three good years together here in this farm in this community. It has been hard work, but it has been good for us. But the end has come, the TV people have ruined everything.

Come with me and see the world. We can sell the farm and go to Oslo, Havana and Cape Town. I will have to sell myself as the Exterminator of Monsters, but all over the world.

Come with me and see the world, your loving husband, Jim.

The next day my wife drove me to a dentist in the big town and I had the toffee surgically removed from my mouth.