Antithesis (Prose story)

Driving away from the meeting, a mixture of irritation and frustration raced each other in an unpleasant shiver up and down Andrew’s spine.  His mind was abuzz with the million things he should have said.  He knew he had done well.  He knew he had them nosing at the bait, but was it enough?  Farqueson was a dinosaur, though Andrew had dealt with his kind before, and he was quietly confident he could handle him.  But Soderman….. well, he was inscrutable.  With guys like him, it was always a game of chance.  Had he missed something crucial?  Maybe he could have done it differently.

His lawyer’s mind reviewed the ebbs and flows of the meeting, examining key points, holding them up for scrutiny the way he would a vital piece of evidence in court.  Could it be the complex fee structure that’s goosing them?  But then, in such a labyrinthine, multi level case as this, were there other options?  Frowning slightly, he cast about in his mind for some way to lower the primary fees – just enough to show goodwill, while not appearing to lose face.

The regular blips of the streetlights gave way suddenly to the encompassing darkness of the countryside, as if to mirror his darkening mood.  He checked his watch.  The numbers glowed an eerie green, throwing a momentary ghostly pallor on his face.  Eleven past ten.  Twenty minutes or so to make it to the pub for a quick relaxer before going home.  He gunned the engine of the Audi Sports, enjoying the thrill of raw power at his fingertips.  As the car took the twists and turns of the country road with smooth efficiency, Andrew’s mind focused in again on his prospective clients.  Ah yes.  They’d be a huge catch for the firm, highlighting his own rising star, and he wanted them badly.  His next move would be vital.  He would just have to…

“Bloody hell!” He stamped on the brakes, bracing himself rigidly behind the wheel.  The sleek black Audi slewed to a screeching halt in a cloud of burning rubber and dust.  The powerful engine coughed and sputtered out.  Andrew’s hammering heart felt as though it occupied the entire region between his Adam’s apple and his navel.

Ahead, illuminated in the bright wash of his headlights, a large cow stood motionless in the middle of the road.  Shakily, Andrew pushed a stray lock of hair off his brow.  All was silent, except for the ticking of the cooling engine, and the muted roar of rapidly pumping blood in his head.

From its position in the road, the cow watched impassively with weirdly spectral eyes, shining in the headlights. Shock quickly gave way to anger.  Sweat trickled down Andrew’s back, soaking his expensive Armani shirt.  Godamnit!  He slapped his hand on the horn.  The resulting blast rent the quiet country air, making him jump.  The cow’s fur-fringed ears swung ponderously forward, and it lifted its head slightly, but did not seem in the least inclined to move.

Man and beast regarded one another, unaware of the striking antithesis between them.  One, impeccably clad in top of the range designer wear, smelling of nothing but the best in soap and aftershave, and sitting behind the wheel of one of the most sought-after executive cars on the road.  The other, tousled, shaggy in winter coat with clumps of putrid mud hanging from fetlocks and tail, and four mud-caked feet planted squarely on the bitumen.  The man, pale, sweaty and breathing in shallow, ragged breaths.  The beast, passive, calm, contemplative; its rounded udder rocking gently in time with its steady respiration.

Andrew reached forward and turned off the ignition.  “ Jesus,” he muttered.
As suddenly as his anger had welled up, it subsided, leaving him drained, unable to think straight.  His hand hovered over the horn again, then dropped into his lap.  He looked more closely at the cow.  Was there something wrong with it, he wondered, or were they always this stupid?  Opening the door a little, he stuck his head out and shouted, “ MOVE!”  feeling immediately that he was about to hear a roar of laughter from some unseen audience.  Only silence greeted him.  The cow continued to block the road.

Telling himself he would regret it, he emerged gingerly from the car, watchful for any sudden movement from the cow.  He had no idea what he was going to do, but nonetheless his feet propelled him slowly forward.  The cow seemed frighteningly large, and a warm, grassy, barnyard smell assailed his nostrils. 

A dollop of slimy mud oozed down the animal’s left foreleg.  Andrew watched its progress with disgusted fascination, grimacing as it finally plopped onto the asphalt.  He gestured vaguely at the gooey lump on the road.

“ Doesn’t that bother you?”  he asked the cow.  A low, rumbling belch issued forth in response, and the grassy smell became momentarily overpowering as the gases from its four stomachs dissipated around him.

“ You know, you really should take a little pride in yourself.  I mean….well, look at you.  And Jeez – your breath could use a little freshening up...”  Smiling at his own wit, Andrew yelped and hurriedly retreated when without warning, the cow began to move.  As if in slow motion, it turned away from him and lumbered stiffly towards a muddy gateway.  Andrew’s eyes were drawn to its slightly raised tail, and saw to his astonishment two small, perfectly formed hooves were beginning to appear.  The cow lowered its head, arched its back and gave vent to a loud bellow.  The small hooves peeped out a little further.

“ …Oh my God,”  breathed Andrew in wonder, unable to resist following at a respectful distance.

Upon reaching the recessed gateway, the cow dropped onto her knees with some apparent difficulty, and settled herself in the mud.  She bellowed several times, her whole body straining with the effort, and bit by bit, the calf inched its way into the world.  First its long, shiny legs appeared, then its rounded black nose, all covered in a viscous mixture of blood and fluids, then the rest of its head. At this point, the cow seemed to rest.

Carefully, Andrew crept nearer.  He was both fascinated and repulsed by what he was witnessing, but, like a child, he stood round-eyed and open mouthed.  His polished Gucci shoes were sinking in slime; a fact which, ordinarily, would have sent him into a rage ~ but he was so transfixed by the unfolding event in front of him, he remained oblivious. It did not even occur to him how utterly absurd he must look standing there.

The whites of the cow’s eyes seemed very bright in the lights from the car, and she shifted uncomfortably in the mud.  A thought made its way into Andrew’s head:  maybe the calf was stuck.  As if in agreement, the cow gave another bellow, straining hard.  The calf’s body did not seem to be coming.  Its head lay inert upon its outstretched legs.  Without a second thought, all fear forgotten, Andrew leaned forward, grasped the lower end of the legs, and gingerly tugged, not wanting to hurt either the calf or its mother.  His hands slipped off, covered in gory birth fluids.  He tried again, but found he could not get a proper grip.  He straightened up, absently wiping his hands on the front of his shirt.  His fingers found his tie, and he looked thoughtfully at it for a second or two before taking it off and carefully wrapping it around the calf’s small fetlocks.  He glanced up at the cow, who was watching him trustingly.  He was deeply moved by her implicit faith.

He began to pull on his tie, gradually putting more pressure on it.  The mud was well past his ankles now, but he didn’t care.  He had to use practically all his strength to illicit even the smallest amount of progress, even with the cow straining, but he was rewarded by a glimpse of the shoulders.  He paused, wiping the sweat from his eyes, smearing blood and mud over his face.

“ Come on, old girl,” he murmured.  “You can do it.”  He again began to pull, bracing himself against the cow’s bony haunches.  Seconds stretched into minutes, and he pulled with all his might, hardly able to draw breath, until with a wet plop and an agonized bawl from the cow, the calf slithered out into the mud.  Andrew fell backward, feeling the soothing effect of the mud seeping in around his collar, cooling his sweat soaked body.  He lay there for a minute, panting hard, but feeling better than he ever had in his life.  He gave a shout of laughter and struggled up.

The scene that greeted him brought a lump to his throat.  The cow had moved around so she could see her calf, and she was tenderly licking it clean.  The calf was trying to lift its head, which wobbled and wavered about.  Its huge limpid eyes bespoke its innocence, and its small, upturned nose twitched at each new breath.

As he watched, the calf unfurled its long, gangly legs and began to make feeble attempts to get to its feet.  Andrew moved closer and worked his hands under its warm little body.  Steam still rose from its flanks, and he could feel its fragile ribs as he gently lifted it.

“ Up you get, little feller,” he said softly.  The minute he withdrew his hands it flopped into an ungainly heap.  It took several attempts for the calf to remain standing, but at length it managed a few faltering steps around its mother.  The cow heaved herself up.  Andrew, too, got to his feet, becoming aware for the first time of the state he was in.  He unlatched the gate, and gently persuaded the cow to lead her calf into the safety of the field beyond, and once they were in, he closed it soundlessly.

They disappeared into the darkness without a backward glance.

Andrew stood listening, surrounded by silence.  Something flitted overhead, but was gone before he saw what it was.  He felt very small; humbled beyond measure, and it was some time before he was able to turn away.