Lambing

New satirical adventure serial begins here – eight chapters, one a month. A small neo-evangelical town prepares for the annual ‘lambing season’ – where of-age boys have command over their female peers for a night. But one girl decides to fight back…

ONE: TIME FOR THE SEASON

What a grand day to be alive! It was a bright, fresh morning, the kind that inspired you to leap out of bed with spring and wide smile. But Alex didn’t feel much like springing or smiling. She lay still and nonplussed, pondering what lay ahead. Tonight she was to become a woman, but Alex didn’t want to be the woman they wanted.

She sighed and threw off the covers, the day was still a day. Then came the morning clockwork drill – prayer, shower, teeth brushed, hair combed – practiced daily for as long as her sixteen years remembered. Clean body, clean mind, time to leave worries behind. So many mantras drilled into her.

A feast was laid out on the breakfast table. Eggs, bacon, toast, waffles. This would normally be a weekend treat but today was a special day.

Pop was reading the morning edition of the Greengate Daily – the headline was LAMBS GET READY over a cartoon of dogs riding sheep. Alex noted the usual brown smear of poop tainting the corner of the front page. Mom was ladling even more pancakes onto a plate. Alex wondered how much she was really expected to eat.

“Ah, there’s our little princess.” Pop put the paper down beaming. The corner brushed a triangle of buttered toast.

“Not so little much longer.” Mom placed the pancakes on the breakfast table and bustled her into a chair. “I’ve made you something of everything, to keep your strength up for your special day.”

Al, her twin brother, was chowing down on a full plate and didn’t look up. It was his big night too, lambing turned boys to men as was Greengate tradition. She looked across at him, the star jock of the town, only an hour between them, but so much more since. No flicker.

“I’ll just have some juice,” she said. “Don’t want to get fat.” Shy smile, the demure act, practised so well it was default. The Greengate look.

“Ahhhhh, butterflies.” Ma and Pa spoke in synch, coy glance between them. McPuke.

There was a hoot from outside, roar of an engine, metal bass thudding through speakers. Jackson Litt was here, black flatbed truck shining on their drive, filled with the star players of the Greengate High football team. Go Cherries! And none more starriest than her brother. Al looked up. “That’s my ride.” He rose with a lazy stretch, picked up his bag and reached for a slice of toast. He halted and withdrew his hand, then finally glanced at her. “You coming with the boys?” He knew the answer and was moving away before she spoke.

Alex shook her head. “Not today. I’ll walk with the girls.” They each had their own crew, as it should be.  He nodded back, then straight out the door, sheepish with good reason.

“Bye son, don’t do anything we didn’t do.”

There were jeers from inside Jackson’s truck as Al ran over. “No sister dude?” “Not until tonight anyhow.” “Shotgun that.” “Bro gets first dibs, haw haw.” He threw his bag in the back and leapt aboard. The truck jerked away with a roar and cheers.

Yeah, Alex was damn sure they were gonna try their hardest to see her later. Unless she had something to say about it.