Business Manager in a Barn
„Come on girl, steady. Steady. Stea- Fuck!” The screeching clink of broken metal was still ringing through the air when Ben ran over. “Oh come on, this can’t be. Fucking shitty old motherfucking...” every word was accompanied by a kick against the old wagon. The last one accompanied by a scream birthed by frustration and pain. “Fuck I broke my foot!” Howling, he sank to the ground, peeled his boot off and winced some more as he examined it. His toe was sensitive to pressure and made him curse even more creatively.
A pair of large nostrils appeared in his field of vision, curiously sniffing his toes. They were cream colored and sprinkled by a few dark brown spots. “Oh hey girl. Sorry did I upset you? Nothing wrong, just me being frustrated, you know?”
Sunflower Buttermellow or “Fluffy” as he had named her as a kid, was a soft, good natured Percheron mare with the heart and soul of a teddy bear. When she noticed that nothing seemed to be wrong with Ben, she proceeded to examine him, sniffing his red hair in great lungfuls of air. It felt almost as if she was using a blow dryer and the tickling sensation made him chuckle. “I’m okay girl”, he murmured again and reached up to pet her dark brown face with the cream colored muzzle. His fingers formed into claws and started to scratch her gently. She moaned and pressed her head against his hand and snorted loudly when he reached her ears, then drew away and shook her head like a wet dog.
“I’m okay”, he repeated as he watched Fluffy search his bag for carrots. His gaze wandered to the large construction of worm laden wood and old rusty metal that his grandfather had called a “wagon”. It didn’t even deserve the term if you were stumbling home at three in the morning, almost too drunk to know your own name, incapable of speaking and hallucinating that a bunch of dinosaurs was after you. Not even then did this fucking… He sighed and slammed his head back against the wood. He never should have come here. What was he, a farmer? Hah, not in ten lifetimes.
He was a fucking business manager. Had been for over ten years and he was bloody good at his job. Didn’t his boss tell him just last month that he was the best man in the house? The go-to-guy if you needed a business deal? The big one, the guy that looks dashing on the front cover of a magazine in a shoulder hugging Armani suit with a charming smile, a Lange & Söhne Saxonia watch on his wrist, drawing in deals by the dozen? That was him! Not this fucking… Ah it was a mess!
HE was a mess! Had been for two weeks now. Almost reached the top of his career and then, boom. Gone. Because of… reasons. Anyway, what did it matter to dwell in the past now. He was here on his grandfather’s old farm. There were animals, namely horses to care for and he was going to do it. He just needed to figure out how. Groaning, he buried his head in his hands, listening to the crunching noises of Fluffy who seemingly had found the pocket with carrots. She probably was eating the bag as well but what the heck. It was made from natural fibers anyway, would come out again, given enough time.
His foot was still throbbing, even when he didn’t try to move it. Probably worth another doctor’s appointment. At least he now knew how they went.
…
The toe was broken, no questions asked. Well, his doctor in the city probably would not have asked questions about it, but the countryside doc did. A lot. It was like he never stopped talking and would probably follow Ben out of his consultation room, to the bus stop, into the bus and home just to continue talking.
Drawing his head between his shoulders like a turtle, he tried to deal with his questions with body language. First with subtle one. Then not so subtle. Then he simply turned and yelled in the man’s face. And apologized afterward.
The man took the blast with the air of a mountain in the face of a raging tornado, raised an eyebrow and simply scribbled some more on the receipt. Then he sent Ben home by way of telling him to sit down and wait for his assistant who was about to drive into that direction anyway.
“No need to take the bus, we take care of each other here on the countryside”, he explained, winked good-naturedly and patted him on the back when Ben limped out on his crutches. “And you, young man, need a break. Your blood pressure is through the roof, your cholesterol a nightmare, your heart sounds like an old steam engine, your digestive system is wrecked and I am betting that I will find more if I keep searching in more intrusive places.”
“Even more so than you did? What could be more intrusive than searching through my shit?”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, his eyes wandered over Ben in a downward direction, centering at his crotch.
“Fine! Yeah, yeah, I am a wreck, heard it. Been there, done that, didn’t bother to buy a T-shirt”, Ben growled.
“Wrong. That T-Shirt you bought is your body. And you’ve got a hell of a mess there, son. Have you even seen something remotely resembling a break in the last ten years?”
“Thanks, Doc”, grumbled Ben as he continued to limp to the chair. It was a slow process and if there was one thing he hated, it was slowness.
Contradicting his expectations, the doctor did not follow him into the waiting room and simply leaned in the door. There he stood, folding his hands and managing to look like a reproachful father or a teacher or a priest or any kind of male authority figure.
“I think I have my answer in your silence. Never mind. You will not be able to do much with that broken toe of yours. But if you need something to do, why don’t you spend a visit to the Black Stallion farm? Well actually it is a breeding center nowadays but never mind. They have experiences on their farm, maybe that will help you. You could get some experienced help, maybe learn a few tricks or two.”
“Mmh”, Ben grunted and tried to look uninterested.
“I mean, you have those horses, right? You need to learn how to deal with them if you want to pull through with the farm.”
“Mmh”.
“And I heard that the daughter of the house is single these days. Ah. I see that this got your attention.” Chuckling to himself, the doctor vanished back through the door, mumbling something about ‘young people’.
It did catch Ben’s attention. It was a reaction that he had taken pains to create over years. A man in his position was supposed to look up when a female sex bomb walked past. He was supposed to whistle, to wink. To be seen with hot girls and models on each arm, spending his time in night clubs and drinking his lights out till two and crush into bed to have steaming hot sex. Then get up at five, have one and a half hours of workout, shower and appear at six fifty-five on the doormat of the company to get things done.
It had been his life for the last five years. The thing with the models that is. The rest about the parties, the workout and the work itself had been his life for ten years and the work itself for fifteen. Straight out of school into the business. Working his way up the career ladder simply by being able to juggle and crunch numbers. And maybe his good looks and occasional flirt with a few female employees.
No one expected him to be fantasizing about men when he slept with women. And that was good the way it was.
…
