Page 64 of Brett and Rowdy
Rowdy came walking in, slower. “I don’t know, give me a hint. Inside or outside? Fuzzy or bug?”
“Outside, fuzzy.”
“Tall or short?”
“Tall, with a lot of shorts.”
“Goddamn it,” Rowdy grabbed his phone and hit a button. “Eduardo, the fucking goats got through the fence again. That damn llama is staring in my window and scared the fire out of my guy.”
Brett went up to the window and looked, and sure enough, there was a llama and about, he didn’t know, ten or twelve thousand sheep.
Demon sheep.
Like terrifying demon sheep.
“Rowdy, were you aware that these are mutant sheep?”
“They’re not mutants. Somebody get somebody out here to get these goddamn sheep.” He hung up the phone.
“They’re demon sheep, Rowdy. There’s something wrong with them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my sheep, man. They’re sheep. You know sheep shaped.”
He stood there, shaking his head. He’d never seen meaner-looking beasts in his whole life. “Sheep don’t have four horns.”
Rowdy chuckled softly, shook his head. “Churro sheep do.”
Somehow Brett had lost the plot. “Churros are crispy things that you get at the fair during Mexican day.”
Rowdy held up one finger. “One, you’re in New Mexico. There is never a Mexican day. Every day is Mexican. Periodically, if you’re lucky, there might be a gringo day. If one happens, I’ll let you know.” He held up a second finger. “Two, if there’s a llama staring in the window, his name is Happy.He’s friendly unless you bother his sheep. He and the dogs have an understanding. The sheep are churro sheep. From the Diné. They came with four horns. Some of them come with two horns, some of them come with no horns. They’re pretty cool. If there’s lambs out there, do not fuck with them because the moms will eat you.”
Brett’s eyes went wide. “I told you they were demon sheep.”
Brett noticed the shepherd dogs were in a circle, including Barney, staring at the sheep. Like they were just waiting. “How did the sheep get in?”
“I imagine they broke through the fence. This happens a lot.”
“What happens if my dog happens to get out while your sheep break through the fence?” he demanded, and Rowdy rolled his eyes.
“It appears he runs into the house like the coward that he is, and he howls really loud, warning us and letting us know that the sheep are in his space. Then we come and rescue him. So, good dog.”
Mr. Mann wagged.
Brett considered hitting Rowdy with a shovel, but he wasn’t sure exactly where a shovel was. And it would be odd to ask, “Pardon me, could you tell me where a shovel is that I could hit you with?”
Instead, he went with, “Cool. Do we need to do anything?”
“You want to meet the llama?”
“Is it friendly?”
“Yeah, he’s pretty friendly. He’s a good-tempered guy. He used to run with the herd. He got older and the other llamas were being mean to him, so we decided to give him his own sheep. So this is Happy’s herd.”
“Happy’s herd.” Brett was really tired.
“Yes, we have about twelve different herds. Those sheep, each of them have their own llama or sets of llamas.”
That was it. He was leaving. He was not going to live in a universe where llamas had herds of sheep of their own. It was just not going to happen. There was a reason that normal people from the East Coast didn’t come to New Mexico and this was it.
