The Audacity of Goats

by J. F. Riordan

  Fiona trailed behind, noting the path through the crusty spring snow. The boy had come here frequently through the winter, and probably even earlier today. The path led to the remains of a cabin. The roof was gone, and there wasn’t much left of the walls, but there was some shelter from what was still there. It didn’t look terribly safe to Fiona, but, gamely, she followed him in.

  Immediately, Fiona was struck by a familiar smell. Ben was kneeling, bending over a filthy animal that had been covered with a red parka.

  The animal’s coat was matted with mud and burs. He lay in a pile of leaves and pine branches that had been hacked, rather than cut, from nearby trees. There was an old metal bucket with water, now frozen solid, and a blue plastic bowl with food, but both looked untouched. The red down parka, now quite dirty, was placed over his chest. The animal’s yellow eyes were clouded, and his leg was splinted and bandaged, but it was at a frightening angle, and he must be in tremendous pain. He followed her movements with his eyes.

  Fiona gasped, and knelt down next to Ben. “Robert!” she said. She reached her hand out to touch his nose, but he did not respond.

  Fiona looked down at the injured animal and then at Ben. “Where did you find him?”

  “He was in the lake. He almost drowned, but I heard him screaming, and I dragged him out.”

  “You dragged him out?” Fiona was amazed. “When was this?” she asked urgently. “When did this happen?”

  Ben looked down. “Yesterday. After the snow.”

  “But why didn’t you tell someone? Why didn’t you get some help?”

  Ben began to cry. “I thought they would shoot him. I thought they would make me kill him.”

  Fiona was silent for a moment. “What made you change your mind? What made you come to find me?”

  “He isn’t getting better. I think his leg really hurts. I couldn’t fix it.”

  Fiona nodded and put her hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  Ben looked at the ground.

  “I thought he was a deer and I was going to save him. I thought he had a broken leg. But then I saw him, and he liked me.” Much of this story made no sense to Fiona, but she was silent, letting him get it out.

  Ben was grief-stricken, and the tears poured down his face as he spilled out his confession. “He came and went wherever he wanted. But he always came back.”

  He looked up at Fiona. Ben didn’t know how to explain what it had meant to have this secret, something that was entirely his own. He didn’t know how to express the happiness it had given him. He couldn’t explain even to himself how bad it felt now to realize he had done wrong. His heart felt split in his chest. It hurt desperately. The world was a different place.

  “I first saw him in the fall. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

  Fiona looked into his troubled face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ben.”

  Her answer didn’t seem to comfort him. Now that he had begun, he couldn’t stop telling his story. All the emotion of the long-kept secret poured out of him.

  “I wasn’t supposed to do it. I wasn’t supposed to go into the lake alone. Not on the ice.” He shuffled aimlessly at the dry leaves on the ground. “My mom and dad told me never to.” Ben looked pleadingly into Fiona’s face, then dropped his gaze again to the leaves.

  Fiona took a breath and nodded.

  “Well, we have to tell someone now. He is very sick.” She looked at the stricken boy. “It’s all right, Ben. You did a good thing in bringing me here.”

  Ben nodded, still staring at the ground. “I think his leg really hurts him,” he said, softly, urgently.

  Fiona patted him on the shoulder as she reached into her pocket for her cell phone. She hoped to God there would be a signal here, on the northern edge of the Island. As the ringing started, she knelt down and stroked Robert’s dirty flank.

  “Do you think he can walk on three legs?” she asked Ben over her shoulder, as she waited for the phone to be answered.

  Ben shook his head slowly. “No. He’s been lying here since yesterday. He won’t get up.”

  Fiona nodded without speaking, and at this moment she heard a breathless voice answering the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Jim? It’s Fiona. Where are you? I need your help.”

  It took only a moment for Jim to figure out approximately where they were and agree to come. Fiona hung up and tucked the phone back into her pocket. She put both hands on the ragged, smelly snout and forehead, as the yellow eyes closed in acquiescence. Fiona sat in the filthy leaves, and stared down at the animal’s face.

  “It’s okay, Robert,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.” Two drops of water splashed onto his cheek, and as she reached to brush them away, Fiona realized that they were her tears. “This is a fine thing,” she thought. “Why am I’m always crying over Robert?”

  Elisabeth and Roger and the others arrived at five-forty-five to find the house open, but no Fiona.

  Elisabeth, who knew Fiona well, was unfazed. “She probably went for a walk to calm down. Let’s just settle in and wait for her to get back.”

  She showed the guests to their rooms, and went to the kitchen where she knew she would find a bottle of wine to open.

  It was nearly half an hour before Fiona and Ben heard the sound of an engine, and Jim’s voice calling through the woods. It was getting dark.

  “We’re over here!” they both shouted in unison, and through a series of these communications, Jim was soon with them, driving along a parallel trail further back in the woods, in an official State All Terrain Vehicle. Jim wasted no time in entering the cabin, and he, too, knelt in the mud to peer at the injured animal. Fiona felt as if they were in some odd version of a nativity scene.

  “He does not look good,” said Jim after a moment, with a professional’s understatement.

  “What do you think we can do?” asked Fiona, casting a quick look over at Ben’s face.

  “Not sure. He’s got an infection, or pneumonia, maybe, or both. And if he won’t walk with that leg… .” Jim frowned.

  “He’s in pain,” Fiona said.

  “You can tell that by looking at him,” said Ben. “You can tell he doesn’t feel right.”

  Jim nodded.

  “Will he be okay?” asked Ben, voicing the question Fiona had avoided for fear of upsetting him.

  Jim took a deep breath. He was an honest man, and did not believe in sugarcoating the truth, even for children. “He might not. If it’s a bacterial infection it might have gotten too much hold of his system; he may not be able to fight it.” Jim stood up briskly. “We don’t have a lot of time to stand around. Let’s get him out of here while we can still see.” He looked at the serious boy standing beside him. “Ben, go get the backpack on my seat. We’ll have to make a sling to lift him.”

  Jim and Fiona were silent looking down at the sick animal. There was no vet on the Island. The closest was Dr. Amy Wilson in Sister Bay, a ferry ride with another ten-mile drive. And there were no more ferries tonight.

  Jim broke the silence. “This is not going to be easy,” he said quietly. “But if you want me to, I can shoot him.”

  Fiona swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, Jim. I understand. But I want to try. I want to try to save him.”

  Jim looked down at her face and felt the surge of emotions he had been working so hard to repress these past months. He would do almost anything for her, but he would not allow an animal to suffer needlessly.

  “This isn’t about you,” he said, at last. “You have to do what’s right for the animal.”

  Fiona lifted her head and looked at him. She was serious and dry-eyed. “I promise you, Jim, this is not about me. But I believe—and I think you do, too—that animals have souls. We shouldn’t waste a life.”

  Jim held her glance for a moment and nodded.

  “All right. I’m in. Let’s see if we can get him through the night.”

  Ben returned, and together the three of them gently rolled the a
nimal in the blanket that Jim had unpacked, and wrapped him securely. Jim made sure that he was tied into the blanket so he couldn’t wriggle loose and hurt himself further. Robert was too sick to resist. He simply lay wherever they placed him and closed his eyes.

  Jim turned his attention to how to arrange transport. He pulled two life jackets from the storage compartment and arranged them into a bed across the back of the vehicle, using duct tape and bungee cords.

  “Never go anywhere without duct tape, Ben,” he said smiling for the first time. “You never know when it’s going to come in handy.”

  Fiona smiled a little, too.

  “My dad says that all the time,” said Ben. “He keeps rolls of it in the pilot house.”

  “I’m going to see if I can get a little closer so we don’t have to carry him so far.”

  Fiona and Ben stood back as he maneuvered the ATV into place.

  “Okay,” said Jim at last. “You’re both going to have to help lift him. We’ll put him sideways along the back, like this. See?” Fiona and Ben nodded.

  “Now, he’s going to be heavy. You two stand on that side, and I’ll take this one. Are you ready? On three. One, two, three, lift!”

  Robert was remarkably light, and they managed to get him gently onto the life jackets. Jim began to tie Robert into position so he couldn’t fall.

  “Okay, you two, better start running.” Jim climbed onto the ATV and looked back at Fiona. “Where do you want to take him?”

  “Call Nancy. Take him there. She has livestock. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

  He lifted his hand in farewell, but he didn’t look back as he drove away, much more slowly and carefully than when he had arrived.

  “Okay, Ben,” said Fiona. “You heard the man. Let’s go.” And together they headed back down the path where they had come, Ben tearing off ahead, and Fiona jogging doggedly behind, trying to keep from stumbling in the dark.

  The mood in the room was somber and tense as the town clerk began to tally the votes. Since there was only one precinct and fewer than 450 votes cast, this would not be a lengthy process.

  Terry looked at Elisabeth. “Where is Fiona?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered back. “I’ve called her cell phone half a dozen times and she’s not answering.”

  “This is a little strange.”

  “I know,” said Elisabeth. “I’m getting worried.”

  When Fiona finally reached Nancy’s, Ben and Jim had already arrived. The ATV was parked in front of the barn, so she went directly there.

  The barn smelled of healthy animals and hay. The door was open to the last stall, and Nancy, Jim, and Ben were there, with Robert on a bed of straw, still wrapped in the blanket.

  “I keep antibiotics on hand, because you never know,” said Nancy without greeting. “We already gave him a shot, so if infection is his problem, it should start working pretty quickly.”

  “What about his leg?” asked Fiona.

  “Broken,” said Nancy matter-of-factly. “I’ll take a look at it when we’ve got him more settled, but antibiotics should work on that, too, in case it’s infected.”

  “Is it serious?” asked Ben.

  “Could be. Hard to say. I’m not a vet.” Nancy looked at Ben for the first time.

  “You say you found him?” Her blue eyes searched his face.

  Fiona jumped in quickly. “Ben came to get me so we could decide what to do.” She turned and smiled encouragingly at the boy, breaking uncharacteristically into ungrammatical speech. “He did good. Which reminds me, Ben. Your mom’s going to be worried.”

  “That’s okay. I already called her before you came. She’s coming to pick me up.” He looked up at Fiona. “Can I stay?”

  Fiona looked at him, with the look of mild apology and doubt that adults give children about other people’s rules. “That’s up to your mom. It’s okay with me.”

  Nancy was made of sterner stuff. “We’ll be here all night, and you have to go to school in the morning. Go home with your mother.” She saw his crestfallen face and took pity on him. “You stop by around three-thirty tomorrow afternoon,” she said in a kinder voice. “We should have news for you by then.” She turned and looked at Fiona.

  “And shouldn’t you be at the hall?”

  “Oh my God!” cried Fiona. “The election!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  With all eyes on her, the town clerk continued the process of counting out loud. The assistant sat nearby keeping the tally.

  “DesRosiers. DesRosiers. Campbell. Campbell. Campbell. DesRosiers. Campbell. DesRosiers. DesRosiers. DesRosiers. Campbell. Campbell. DesRosiers… .”

  Pali sighed and looked at his watch. Less than an hour—if they were lucky—and the Island’s future would be determined.

  At this moment, Fiona burst into the room, bringing with her the smell of barn. Her boots and jeans muddy, her hair was wind-blown. All eyes but those of the two clerks turned to her. Pali couldn’t help noticing that her wild appearance did not harm her looks. Stella’s eyes narrowed into thin slits and she sniffed pointedly.

  “Where have you been?” hissed Elisabeth. “I’ve been calling you all night. And by the way, you stink.”

  “Sorry. Long story. My phone battery died. What’s happening?” Terry leaned over. “Final count nearly finished.”

  Fiona merely nodded and said nothing. She was wrung of emotion. Silently she sat next to Pali on one of the folding metal chairs arranged along the wall, her mind and heart elsewhere. The others, having been there now for hours, were restless and fidgety.

  The clerk and her assistant began whispering together and comparing their tallies. The rest of the room drew a collective breath and waited to hear their announcement. Everyone, that is, except Stella.

  “What are you whispering about?” she demanded. “This is public business. You have to tell us what is going on.”

  The clerk ignored her, and continued her conversation with the assistant. After a moment she turned to the rest of the room. “We have reviewed the tallies,” she announced with great dignity, “and believe we have a discrepancy. We will count again.”

  Jake groaned loudly, expressing the feelings of them all. Stella made a stage-whispered remark about incompetence.

  And the counting began again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Campbell, Campbell, DesRosiers, Campbell, Campbell, Campbell DesRosiers, DesRosiers…” The droning of the voices had a soporific effect, and Fiona found herself beginning to doze. Each time her head fell she was jerked awake, and embarrassed to think that someone might have seen. She looked furtively around the room, and saw that Jake, too, was falling asleep. Stella, wide awake, glared from across the room, her lips in a sneer that reminded Fiona of the impounded car. This thought, at least, she found cheering.

  The clerk looked up at last from the numbers and turned to her assistant who was finishing his separate tally at the same time. They exchanged glances and then the clerk turned resignedly to her waiting audience.

  “It’s a tie,” she said.

  “That can’t be right,” said Stella immediately. “Count them again.”

  The clerk took a deep breath and stood. She was not a particularly brave woman, but she knew her job.

  “We already have two counts,” she said, with quiet authority. “We will need to count again, but not tonight. Tomorrow we will have a recount.”

  The room was silent. Even Stella said nothing.

  Under all watchful eyes, the ballots were locked in the vault, and both the clerk and her deputy placed their seals on the door. This might be a small municipality, but its principals took their duties seriously.

  After the seals were signed, the clerk turned to address the little group. Although she had never faced this situation before, formality, she knew, was the only way to keep order in this kind of circumstance. Even Stella, with her face of cold fury, was forced to b
ow to protocol. Here, in this room, and for this moment, the clerk ruled.

  “We will meet here again tomorrow morning at nine a.m., at which point we will consult town ordinance on how to proceed. Good night, everyone.”

  The clerk said this firmly, dismissing the candidates and observers. It had been a long night, and she wanted to go home.

  Respectfully silent as they left the room, everyone began talking once they hit the parking lot. Fiona’s group stood around her to hear her story. Pali waited to listen, but afterward would not stay longer. He was anxious to get home and see Ben.

  As they were walking toward the cars Fiona whispered to Elisabeth.

  “Do I really stink?”

  Elisabeth gave her a long-suffering glance. “You take a shower. I’ll fix the drinks.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry to abandon you, but I want to get back to the barn. I’ll come with you, though, to get my car.”

  “Do you want company?”

  Fiona hesitated a moment. “No. But thanks. You go play hostess for me. You’re better at it than I am, anyway.”

  As she entered the barn, Fiona found Jim still there with Nancy. Their patient lay motionless on a pile of straw. In his misery he looked like a warrior returning from the field. He had a red bandage around the splint on his leg, and a cone on his head to keep him from chewing off the bandage. He was still dirty and matted, since Nancy had deemed it unwise to add to his current distress with a bath. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow.

  “What’s your news?” asked Nancy, her voice unusually low.

  “It’s a tie.”

  Nancy nodded, frowning. She was not an outwardly expressive person.

  Jim studied Fiona’s face. “You okay?”

  Fiona smiled weakly. “I’m okay. It never occurred to me that election night events would leave me indifferent to the outcome.”

  Jim said nothing, but went to get her a wooden stool. She sat gratefully.