Organized for Scheduled Sabotage

by Ritter Ames

  “No, Josh, I mean on the writing side. I need to look more like an author for my publisher.”

  “Oh, I get it. Wrong profession.” He motioned her closer. “We’ll take turns here at the door if you don’t mind.”

  She hurried over to stand beside him. “Are we carrying them in? Or do we need to lead the goats?”

  “They’re midgets, so carrying is easy.”

  “Can we do anything?” Kate asked. A chorus of bleats erupted from the camper.

  Liz nodded. “If you’ll both stand near the gate. That way as we bring them in, you can open the gate for us then close it quickly. Keep them in and the dogs out, and help us head them off if they make a run for it.”

  As the camper door opened, the two animal rescuers quickly blocked the space. A second later they each turned with their arms filled with two little goats about the size of a lap dog. The animals were all similarly marked, with fur shaded from white to gray and with brown and black spots. Josh bumped the door shut again, and the rescuers carried the small family into the penned area. Meg quickly closed and latched the gate behind them, then she and Kate followed as the four goats were set down to get acquainted with their new temporary home.

  “They are so cute,” Meg cooed. “I wonder what the animal restrictions are for goats in our cul-de-sac.”

  Kate laughed. “Oh, gosh, I can hear Valerie James complaining already.”

  “That alone makes the idea worth pursuing,” Meg said. She bent down and rubbed a finger along the closest goat’s nose. “Do they get bigger than this?”

  “No, these four are probably full grown,” Josh replied. “But I don’t know about city living. They were rescued from a farm when their owner passed away and no one could take them. Not really acclimated for town.”

  “She was only kidding about adopting one.” Kate waved a hand. “Right, Meg?”

  “Maybe...”

  Kate put her hands on her hips. “Trust me, she was only kidding. There’s no maybe about it.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Meg rubbed a finger along the bridge of the goat’s nose. “Katie, you have to feel this fur.”

  “No, I don’t think I do.” Kate snapped the rubber band around her left wrist, and Meg gave her a sheepish look. They’d talked about this on the way over, about Kate’s worries her slight OCD tendencies would be noticed if she had to be around a lot of animals. This conversation was not going the way she wanted, and she could tell from Liz’s quizzical expression that their client was trying to understand the unsaid message. She gave up and started to explain, but Meg jumped in quicker.

  “Sorry, Katie, you’re right. Gil would kill me if I brought something else home.” Meg turned to Liz. “I’ve already let my boys have a couple of dogs and cats and a bearded dragon. When they try to add a snake or anything new to our menagerie my husband tries to put his foot down on any more animals. If I came in with a goat it’d likely be his limit.” She laughed and the others joined her, but Kate’s chuckles were more relief at her friend’s save than about the humor of the situation.

  Josh headed back across the pen. “I have a bag of feed in the cab of the truck. I’ll put it in the barn for you.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” Liz said.

  “Oh.” He stopped and turned. “Noticed Bren’s truck parked along the road a couple of miles from here, ahead of the turnoff to the main road. She’s not causing trouble again, is she?”

  Liz sighed. “She tried a little while ago. I’d hoped she’d left for town. Was she in the truck?”

  “No, it was parked half off the road.” Josh shook his head. “Wish she’d let everyone alone and quit causing problems. If she worked half as hard at her job as she does picking fights she’d be fine. Instead, Chet’s already talking about letting her go at the store.”

  “She’ll probably blame me for that too,” Liz said.

  “Can’t blame anyone but herself.” Josh scratched the back of his neck, then reached up to reset the cap, raising the brim slightly. “I’ll check out the truck when I drive back by. She may have broken down or needs gas. Thanks again, Liz, we really appreciate you taking the goats.”

  “No trouble at all.”

  He walked to his truck and pulled out a brand new sack of feed from the floorboard of the cab. “I’ll leave this inside the big door.”

  “Terrific. Thanks, Josh.”

  The area around the gate and up to the barn door was trampled down from footsteps, but the rest of the pen promised lots of foliage for the goats to eat. But when the animals bypassed the clover for the weeds, Kate asked why.

  “That’s the nature of goats,” Liz said, grabbing a hose to fill a couple of plastic water containers with sides low enough for the tiny animals. “Everyone always think goats want grass, and they will eat grass, but these cute little varmints love chowing down on weeds.”

  Josh walked back to join them. He scribbled a note on a pad, then ripped off the paper and handed it to Liz. “That’s the daughter of the man who owned the goats. She said if any questions come up to feel free to call her. She was by her dad’s enough that she knows what he fed them and a little about their individual personalities.”

  “Thanks.” Liz slipped the note into a pocket. “You never know when something like this will come in handy.

  “Well, nice meeting you, ladies,” Josh said to Kate and Meg, touching his cap brim in a kind of mini salute. He got back into his truck and pulled away. As the women waved, the dogs barked and chased the vehicle halfway down the drive.

  Kate and Meg followed while Liz talked to them and the goats as the group moved through the pen. Then she turned off the faucet and waved everyone back into the barn, just as the alarm clock began clanging. “See, that’s why I love my un-techy alarm,” Liz said, raising her voice as they retraced their steps to the office/tack room.

  The front door of the barn was visible as Liz moved in to turn off the alarm. Kate pointed to the bag of food at the outer door. “Do you want help moving the bag? It’s new bag and looks pretty heavy.”

  “Fifty pounds is nothing when you run a rescue.” Liz grinned, waving out the office doorway toward the feed. “I’ll move it later. I already have a partial bag I can use in the feed room. I’ll work from that first.”

  Kate followed the short narrow walkway to the office, Meg behind her, and the top half of the right wall open to the run of pens buffering the tack rooms on the other side. Unique configurations of boards divided the halls, the rooms, the corrals. Dark spaces running toward the doorway opened to light.

  Inside the office designated space, the room had a homey feel. Well used and filled with eclectic detritus. Kate took in her second impressions of the space, looking deeper for the job ahead while mentally cataloging: wooden boxes, a rustic table, faded cotton curtains on the windows, sunny streaks lightening the weathered floorboards. Dust motes rode the air currents, catching the sunlight momentarily to dance. Bridles and leads hanging from long used hooks lined up along wall studs. And on a shelf near the door, Mason jars filled with odd bits squatted along the surface, each housing different colored tags, separate metal collections, bundles of twine and nails and screws, all peppering the long length that ended at the corner. An antique ox harness hung on the far wall, high up and almost to the ceiling. On the floor stood an old flatiron. Kate bent down and caught the wooden handle.

  “Now it’s a doorstop, right?” She hefted the heavy household implement that probably hadn’t been new since early in the previous century. “I cannot imagine how much work it took past generations to just keep a family looking clothed and tidy.” She returned the item to the floor. “Not to mention the muscles they needed. Those things are heavy.”

  “Yes, I’m not about to iron with it,” Liz said. “Though my great-grandmother certainly did, and maybe even my grandmother.”

  “Anything else in here that are family heirlooms?” Meg asked. “Those are the kinds of things we probably need to make sure get front and center attention.
” Then the redhead laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m sounding more like an interior designer than the sidekick to an organizer.”

  “Don’t apologize, Meg, you’re right,” Kate said, then turned toward Liz. “Connections of any kind, and especially historical ones, intrigue the public. But from a personal angle, I’m probably like most people out there in that I don’t have the luxury of a tremendous amount of family items left to me that I can still use today. Our mobile society reduces the ability for such luxuries. Your readers would like to know about anything well-loved and well-used, like the flatiron, as well as any other like-items you use regularly.”

  “Plus, mixing in the family-handed-down things will match up with what we’ve been talking about for recycle/upcycle decorating and use,” Meg said. “Like that letter opener.” She pointed to a wickedly sharp silver deco-inspired opener on the table-cum-desk. The metal gleamed in the sunlight. “Things you likely use every day.”

  Liz picked up the silver opener with her right hand and ran her left index finger along the edge running on the top of the blade. “This was my great-grandfather’s. He used it in a mercantile shop he ran in town. You’ll have your choice of old-but-still-in-use around here for sure.” She laughed and returned the letter knife to the desk. “This whole place is a mix of mostly old with some new. That same great-grandfather built this barn, and my great aunt lived on this land her whole life. Never married. When she died, she left the place to me, since my husband and I were newly married, and she wanted to help us get started. And because I’d spent so much time here helping her with animals as I grew up. Mom and Dad raised us in town, and when I was a teen I loved escaping to stay out here for days on end.”

  “So, your house was her house too?” Kate asked.

  “Just a small part of what the house is now. The original was tiny, and we’ve added on all the bedrooms and baths. The structure she lived in was just the square footage of our kitchen and family room, with a miniscule bathroom tacked onto the side. But her house had really good bones, so we kept the original walls and simply added family and personal space for more people.”

  The calf bawled from the back of the barn.

  “Yes, I’m coming,” Liz called out the door, before turning back to the women. “I need to start another round of care. A calf, dogs, a pig, and a colt. If you want to look around, feel free. I’ll be happy to answer any questions. It’s kind of hard while I’m with the animal, but I’ll just be a short while. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

  “I think we have plenty to do while you’re busy,” Kate said, pulling out a tape measure and notepad while she watched Meg take pictures with her phone. Taking a deep breath of the wood and earthy smell of the barn made Kate smile. “Smells so calm and relaxing. They need to bottle that scent.”

  “Just be glad there’s no fresh manure smell nearby.” Liz grinned, and waved as she fast-walked out the door.

  Along with the large window in the front wall, the room was a mix of weathered walls and age-darkened brown studs. The wooden floor creaked in several spots and had a few stains. Kate wondered about using a rug to hide the small handicaps. A cubby stood against the side wall, no door, and held items that included ice skates, snow shoes, and an axe with half of the red paint on the handle worn down.

  “Any ideas about first steps?” Meg asked when they were alone in the office.

  “I think we probably need to start today with measurements, then work up the survey of questions tonight. We’re starting to better understand the different purposes between Liz and her publisher, but we still need to look for wiggle room. I’m not sure we can make everyone completely happy, but getting some parameters to start will help us develop a game plan.”

  “I like your idea about recycling containers for storage.”

  “Yes, Liz seemed to like it as well. It will help keep a rustic simplicity I think we can sell to the publisher, too,” Kate said, pointing the end of the metal tape measure toward Meg. “Grab the end for a second, please, and we can get the larger room dimensions.”

  There were pockets in the space that held great promise already. What appeared to be an empty feed bin could be cleaned out, shined up, and used for files during the photo sessions. Maybe even continue the job once the calendar shoot was completed. A little paint or stain on the board floors promised possibilities, and Kate remembered her mother-in-law, Jane, had a braided rug in the room Keith grew up in that would be interesting in the space.

  “Earth to Katie.”

  “Huh?”

  Meg laughed. “I’ve been talking several minutes, and you didn’t hear a word I said.”

  “I was thinking. Sorry.” Kate waved a hand at the bins. “I’m seeing storage over there, and maybe chalk paint on the wall to give a made-to-order note space. Then if we move her kitchen schedule over there.” She pointed to the far wall.

  “Trying to get the bulk of her business in here, in a same-but-different format?”

  “Exactly. I want to go on her ideas, so the photos are as truthful as possible. Just tweaked to a slightly improved location and prettied up for the camera.” Kate stopped to make several notes on her pad. “I think we need to construct a kind of survey to send to Liz.”

  “Good idea. Our questions will help us better define what she already does and how we can plan to highlight it.”

  “And if she’s anything like I am, having a set of questions will trigger her thinking of more info we haven’t even asked yet.” Kate finished writing down the last task and slipped the pad and pen into the pocket of her khakis.

  Meg walked to the window wall and activated the drop-down table Liz used as a desk. “This is a really handy idea. I’m surprised my mother doesn’t use something like this for her potting shed. There’s more available space than the table Mom has wedged in there.”

  “Doesn’t she usually have pots and things sitting out in preparation for something?”

  “Yes.” Meg sighed. “She’d probably have it up all the time anyway, so it wouldn’t really make any difference.”

  “Worth mentioning to her, though.”

  Liz returned to the room carrying three water bottles. “Got these out of the barn fridge. Thought I’d offer another of the vast array of our rural refreshments.”

  They laughed. Kate and Meg each grabbed a bottle.

  “Are you finishing the doctoring? Or taking a short break?” Meg asked.

  “All done for a few hours. Now the poor things rest with the medicine helping their pain.” Liz said. “Anything else I can help explain?”

  “We were just talking about working up a survey,” Kate said, waving a hand between herself and Meg. “To let us clarify what we’re thinking, and maybe jog your mind toward things you need to let us know about. We have some ideas going already, and if you have some time to answer a few open-ended questions it could lead to new ways to make this all work out best for all parties.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Liz said. “I always think better when I’m writing than when I’m trying to think and talk. Send me the survey when you’re finished, and I’ll get on it as soon as I can. I do some of my best work about four a.m. after I’ve tended to sick animals.”

  Frantic honking and a shout from outside pulled their attention to the window. Josh was back, exiting from the driver’s side of his truck as he called out to them.

  Liz raised the window pane. “What?”

  “Horses are out! Fence broken,” Josh said. Then added the chilling word. “Sabotage.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  SANITY MANAGEMENT 101 FOR BUSINESS PEOPLE AND FAMILY MANAGERS – from an upcoming calendar by Liz Tillman

  Whether you’re talking family or factory, every organization needs a manager to make sure everything stays on-track. From staff meetings to track meets, make sure every deadline or event is marked clearly on a wall calendar or white board that is visible to everyone at some time during the day. Adding a place for checkmarks, so the appropriate people can mark when tasks
are completed helps everyone else in the family or on the team know the status with one glance. While this may not work for large groups, it will for smaller related groups segmented within the larger whole.

  Online alerts can work, but there must be a system in place so everyone is looking at the most recent roster of completed tasks at any one time, so previous posts won’t cause misunderstandings.

  LIZ GRABBED A COUPLE of harnesses and scooped up lassoes from pegs on the wall. Kate and Meg got rid of their pads and measuring tape and ran outside with Liz to meet up with Josh.

  “They’re gone,” he said. “I spent some time looking to see if I could track which way they went before coming back, and I scanned the pasture really slow as I returned in my truck. Not a sign of any of them. I counted five when I first drove in today.”

  “Yes, we’re up to five.” Liz frowned and sighed. In her left hand, she held the harnesses, and she’d slung several lassoes up her other arm like purse handles. Josh took the ropes and ran the loops up his arm to rest on his left shoulder. Liz walked to the fence and made a one-eighty sweep with her gaze, then she sighed again. “Let’s go and assess the damage.

  The group jogged back to the road, cautious of the way the gravel shifted under their feet. Both dogs ran alongside. The shade trees bordering the driveway kept most of the sun’s direct heat away from them. Kate heard the buzz of insects to one side, and decided it was probably bees when she thought she smelled honeysuckle. But she didn’t take time to look.

  When they reached where the drive connected with the main road, it was easy to accept what Josh feared. As the shade broke, they could see the matted area where a vehicle had been parked. A few feet away, two fence slats lay abandoned in the pasture after giving access to the horses’ escape.

  They arrived at the open section, and Meg spoke up, “The fence wasn’t like this when we drove by earlier.”

  “It wasn’t when I first brought the goats up either,” Josh said. He pointed toward the opening in the fence. “Knocked out the top couple of boards and spooked the horses enough to make them jump the lower rails and run away while we were all busy unloading the goats and didn’t notice.