Elf Puncher

by Simon Archer

  “Something’s not right,” I assessed, my eyes gazing over the scene.

  There was no reason she should be bleeding this much or that I couldn’t find the hooves right away. My brain buzzed through the possibilities until my body reacted appropriately. I stuck my hand back in and grunted in harmony with the cow.

  “What’s wrong, Rico?” Gerry asked from his place firmly by the stall door.

  “I think he’s backward,” I concluded.

  “Backwards?” Barth asked from the cow’s front. “Is that going to hurt her?”

  “It can,” I answered. “Especially if we don’t get it out of here soon.”

  As I said this, my hand collided with one of the few hard things inside the cow. I wrapped my fingers around it and felt the familiar shape of the hoof. Success. Now, I only had to find one more, which was… right… there!

  I gathered both hooves in one fist and brought them out with me. More blood and other goo exploded from her. Gerry jumped back, and Barth blanched at the sound.

  “Chains, Gerry,” I commanded, holding out one gooey hand and one clean one.

  Gerry draped one over each hand and then stepped back. I tied them around the calf’s hooves and steadied myself to pull. I got up into a crouch and held the chains firm.

  “Alright, Gretchen,” I muttered, “you’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

  I yanked back and was met with considerable resistance. Even after all my bodybuilding and extensive training, pulling a calf from its mother’s womb was one of the most tiring workouts I’d ever had.

  My father had me help him first when I was ten years old. It was a fascinating but utterly exhausting experience. Since then, I’d delivered more calves than I could remember. The whole procedure, backward or no, was second nature to me. It wasn’t a skill I could use anywhere else, but I definitely had extensive experience doing it.

  My hands burned against the chain as I pulled again. Normally, once you got the head out, the rest of the body slid out with just a couple of more yanks. However, when a calf decided to come into the world backward, it was a much more tedious and strenuous job.

  Gerry watched with wild and horrified eyes, like an accident he couldn’t look away from. Barth stayed at Gretchen’s head, muttering lullabies and compliments about how good she was doing. The cow only mooed her displeasure a couple of times.

  We remained in our positions while I strained to help birth the calf. However, the process was taking longer than normal. Ten minutes should have been the cap, but when we were rounding on twenty, my back started to wail in pain.

  “How’s it coming?” Gerry asked tentatively.

  “I can’t get his fucking hips!” I grunted with another two tugs.

  I was on my butt now, bracing my heels against two uneven floorboards. Unexpectedly, Gerry was behind me. He gripped the excess chains. I almost told him to stay where he was, but when the gnome gave a surprisingly strong tug, I decided to keep his extra umph.

  “Barth!” Gerry called out. “Get your prissy ass over here.”

  “Not a chance,” the elf replied without looking up.

  “Barth!” Gerry all but whined. “She’s in pain.”

  “You think I can’t see that?” he snapped back.

  “Well, come actually do something to help her,” Gerry argued. “We need you.”

  Barth stayed where he was for a minute more before venturing around to our side of things. His face remained a deathly white the entire time. He settled himself behind me but in front of Gerry. The elf grabbed the chain behind me, and I felt comforted by their solidarity.

  “Catch your breath,” I commanded, making sure to keep my voice even.

  Both of the creatures behind me inhaled then exhaled. Barth did it once more. I listened to the pair of them, timing out their breaths.

  “Now ready yourselves,” I added. After a pause… “Pull!”

  As one, the three of us yanked back. With the giant pull, the hips of the calf came free. I whooped in excitement.

  “That’s it! That’s it!” I hollered. “He’s almost here. Just the shoulders and the head. Ready? Pull!”

  Together, the gnome, the elf, the cow, and I finished the birth of a brand new calf. He fell out onto the ground, slipping around the hay. Gerry immediately scrambled up onto the side of the stall while Barth battled with himself on whether or not to run to the newly born animal.

  It lay still as a stick before us, and we waited with bated breaths.

  “Is it alive?” Gerry asked hesitantly.

  “Give him a minute,” I said as I held out a hand to block Barth.

  It took three whole deep breaths before the calf took its first. It stuck out its pink tongue and blinked a couple of times. I leaned down and cupped the water in my hands. I proceeded to drip it along the calf, cleaning him off from the placenta and other goop sticking to him. The material peeled away like spider webs, and we looked into one another’s eyes.

  “Welcome, little guy,” I said as I dribbled another bowl of water on him.

  “That was…” Gerry couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “So that was a first for both of you city males, huh?” I teased, looking up at the pair of them.

  Gerry merely nodded, whereas Barth gulped in reply.

  “You both did a good job,” I complimented as I shook off my hands from the excess liquid. “I’m impressed.”

  “I’m impressed,” Barth said, his mouth never fully closing from the shock. “You were so collected during that whole thing.”

  “Well, I’ve done it hundreds of times,” I said, shrugging off the comment.

  “No,” Barth said as he shook his head. “I don’t think you understand. That is what I have been looking for this whole time from you.”

  “You’re right,” I countered. “I don’t understand.”

  “Barth,” Gerry said gingerly. “You sure you understand what you’re saying?”

  “Yes!” Barth raised both hands in the air triumphantly. “You didn’t think about what you were doing the whole time, did you?”

  “No,” I replied, still not getting the reason behind the elf’s excitement.

  “Yet you did everything right,” Barth continued. “Even when things went wrong with the calf being backward, you jumped right in and knew what to do. You didn’t hesitate or lose your cool. That’s how it’s supposed to be in the ring.”

  I blinked curiously at Barth. “You’re serious?”

  “Dead serious,” Barth confirmed. “That is the level you’re trying to get to when fighting. Where it comes second nature to you. And now that I know you can do it, we’re going to get you to that level. Mark my words.”

  “Well,” Gerry said with a smug grin, “who knew birthing a cow could turn into a fighting lesson?”

  15

  Barth meant every word of his declaration that day Achter was born. Achter was the elven word for “backward” which Barth thought was appropriate for the little calf.

  The gnome and the elf, predictably, had taken a shine to the newborn. They checked on him every day and spent more time with him than me some days, which was saying something considering the pair of them were supposed to be training me. It was adorable sometimes, but more often than not, it was just straight-up annoying.

  Deity was glad to hear that both mother and child were doing fine. She visited them the next day and cooed over the sight of Achter sleeping against Gretchen’s belly. It warmed my heart to see her get down in the mud to check on the pair and feed them. She giggled at the roughness of Achter’s tongue when he licked her.

  As for me, however, I didn’t get as much time with the newborn. Barth upped my training schedule and even let me get back in the ring twice more. While he still beat me both times in the three-round matches, I improved with each fight. The first time he faced me as Bregdon the Harsh and the second time, he was Yvette the Widow Maker. One was a giant that required a lot of speed to dart around his massive body, and the other was
a reptilian which meant harder punches and faster attacks.

  Before that last fight, we worked out my “special move” with Gerry.

  “So, when you tip your nose with your glove like this,” Gerry demonstrated the move by lightly tapping his fist to his nose, “that gives you ten seconds to get in position, and I will cast the illusion.”

  “I still like the fire idea better,” I lamented over the vetoed move.

  “They can’t feel the heat of it,” Barth countered. “It won’t burn them or scare them away. People will see right through it instantly.”

  “Invisibility has all to do with sight,” Gerry continued, picking up with the elf left off. “If I can make them think you’re not there, then you can still attack. The illusion will end the minute you hit them, so this is a one time jab. Combos will be of no use here.”

  “Got it, got it,” I repeated to myself.

  “Now, show me the signal again,” Gerry requested sharply.

  I banged the side of my nose twice with my right glove. Mentally, I counted to ten, and while my image of me never changed, I trusted that Gerry had done the job when Barth blinked uncomfortably.

  “Damn, Gerry,” the elf said with a low whistle. “You’re good.”

  “Thanks, Barth,” the gnome said with a smile. “It’s nice to be appreciated once in a while.”

  “Don’t let it get to your head, alright?” Barth snorted.

  We practiced the illusion that third match, but at one point, I scratched my nose just because it itched. Gerry did his thing on accidental cue, and I was invisible to Barth but didn’t know it. Gerry shouted at me from the sidelines, dropping the entire arena illusion in his frustration.

  “At least itch your nose with your left hand!” the gnome yelled, while his face flared crimson. “For Walden’s sake!”

  We restarted the match, and I was proud to stay upright this time, though Barth did get more punches in on me. The movements were falling into place, carving themselves into my muscles. It wasn’t as natural as Barth wanted it to be, not yet, but the improvements were visible at least.

  The next day, Barth let me rest and recover. Fall slowly approached. The stalks grew up to my shoulders, and the leaves in some of the fruit trees began to turn. Deity filled the kitchen with cinnamon and apple scents as she experimented with new combinations and creations.

  This particular morning, however, she dashed off to the Blue Water Inn to prep for the lunch rush. She told me that a country marathon was scheduled to pass the inn, and she wanted to have enough food to feed the dropouts and the spectators.

  I planned to stay as far from that race as possible. I didn’t want to run into any of those halves, and Herc still hadn’t invited me to come back to his establishment. I figured it would do me good to enjoy the fields on this nice of a day since they were bound to turn cold soon.

  I whistled for Graham when I left the farmhouse. He bounded over from the barn and met me at my feet.

  “Want to go for a walk?” I lured him with a pigskin ball, and he leapt with excitement.

  I threw the ball as far as I could. While Graham dashed after it, I walked a couple of steps towards where I had thrown the ball. It shortened the distance between us with Graham not having to run as far, but it also allowed me to walk casually out into the fields.

  I stayed away from the wheat fields and the fruit trees, not wanting Graham to tramp through them, though he was normally very good at avoiding the crops. We ventured out to the edge of the property, where most of the sheep roamed. The land waved up and down with grassy hills. We had no clear path and no timeline. I enjoyed the trek with my dog, who hardly stopped chasing that damn ball.

  I found myself able to walk through this part of the farm without tiring easily. My stamina had improved as had my overall endurance. The hike with Graham wasn’t tedious, but it was still quite a lot of ground to cover. I took a selfish moment to congratulate myself on getting this far.

  However, a nagging thought pressed at the back of my mind every morning. Even Deity’s fruit scent couldn’t distract me from it. While I managed to squash it in order to get through the day, it resurfaced just then as I gazed out on my farm.

  Barth had promised me a chance to get in the ring. All I had to do was follow his instructions, and he was going to get me a real genuine fight. I was getting close, I could feel it in my body and in my soul. I was almost at the level of some first-timers, but I needed an opponent, a match, a ring to do it in.

  While Gerry’s illusions were thorough, it wasn’t enough. I wanted to hear and smell the real thing. Barth gave me no indication on the progress of getting me a match. I wanted to ask him. Every day, the question rested on the tip of my tongue, but something held me back.

  I didn’t want to push the elf too soon for fear that he would tell me I wasn’t ready and make me wait even longer. That seemed worse than checking on the status of my future fight. Because if I didn’t get that chance, that opportunity to step into the ring, then what was I doing this for? It didn’t seem worth it to put my body through this kind of turmoil if there was no fight at the end.

  Barth had never guaranteed a fight, I knew that. However, I couldn’t seem to let the hope go. If I did, I would have caved and eaten one of Deity’s pastries a long time ago. One of the real ones with the sugar and the flour.

  I picked up the ball and tossed it for Graham one more time. The dog flashed in the opposite direction and ducked down into one of the small valleys. We were nearing the edge of the property, coming up on one of the worn dirt roads some people used to get into the small town. It was a back road, though, and didn’t get much traffic.

  Graham bounded back to me and dropped the ball at my feet. Only, it wasn’t the ball we’d been using this whole journey. It was a small leather pouch about the same size at the ball.

  “What’s this, boy?” I asked the dog as I bent down to pick up the pouch. I undid the drawstring, surprised by the weight of such a small item.

  Whatever was inside glinted in the sunlight. I had to tilt the bag to the side to get a proper look. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the money, just laying in there all casual. Gold pecuns winked at me from in the bag, and I immediately closed it back up in sheer disbelief. I quickly looked around, but the fields were empty. I peeked into the bag again, and there they were, at least fifty pecuns just sitting there in a pile at the bottom of the pouch.

  I glanced down at Graham. “Where did you get this?”

  Graham cocked his head at me with a wide goofy grin and his tongue lolling out.

  “Was it down there?” I pointed down the hill where I had thrown the ball.

  The dog didn’t move.

  I rolled my lips over my teeth and bit down with slight pressure. I was holding more money than I ever had in my life, and it had just simply appeared. There was no way that was possible. It wasn’t as though I was sitting on a literal gold mine this entire time.

  I walked to the top of the hill and peered over the side. Graham followed faithfully. When he joined me at looking over the side, the dog raced ahead towards a dark pile on the ground at the bottom.

  It was my turn to follow Graham. I went as fast as I dared down the steep hill until I reached the heap of a creature. The closer I got, the more I realized that there was a body on my property. A body that didn’t seem to be moving.

  The creature was a female half-elf. She had dark skin with a smooth finish. Her hair was done in tight braids against her head, though some of them had come undone as she splayed out on the grass. Her clothing was tight and flexible, something one might wear when exercising. I saw some of the fighters at the gym, especially females, wear clothing of this type, but I had never been able to afford the breathable fabric. Her muscles were defined, especially around her exposed midriff, which, thankfully, moved with labored breaths.

  “Hello?” I whispered, hoping she was simply asleep. But from the way her limbs bent at awkward angles, my gut told me that was not the ca
se.

  The half-elf didn’t respond. She continued to lie still, breathing but unmoving. I held out my hands and started examining her for injuries. Her ankle was definitely broken and already beginning to swell. She had a couple of scrapes and a bruise or two that wouldn’t be pretty. Grass stained her clothing, confirming my suspicions that she had taken a tumble.

  However, the most disconcerting thing I discovered was a welt on the back of her head. It wasn’t bleeding, but the thing was the size of one of Deity’s coveted goose eggs.

  Graham sniffed the half-elf’s face and looked up at me as if to say, “What’cha gonna do, Rico?”

  We weren’t that far from the road, but what a half-elf was doing all the way out here, I couldn’t figure. What I could do was get her somewhere safe, back to the farmhouse preferably, so we could treat her wounds and hopefully heal her up enough to go back to wherever she had come from.

  Making up my mind, I gingerly picked up the half and cradled her close to my body. She was light enough, thin as she was, but being so long, I had to widen my arms a little so that her legs draped over one arm, and I could grip her shoulders in the other.

  The trek back was more of a workout than I’d intended for the day. Graham trotted along beside us, never straying too far. It was as if he knew this situation was a delicate one and guarded us accordingly.

  Gerry cut us off before we could get back to the farmhouse, though it was in our sights. The gnome raced towards us, shouting something before I came fully into his view, and he could see what I was holding.

  “Rico! You gotta come see Achter. He’s doing this adorable… what the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I grunted as I lifted the half a little so I could readjust my arms. “I found her unconscious at the back of the property.”

  “And you carried her all the way back here?” Gerry asked, surprised and impressed.

  “Yes,” I responded with another grunt. “If you could get the door, that would be great.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Gerry said with a jump. He moved ahead of me and bounded up the porch steps, pushing the door open like I asked.