Page 29 of Out of the Shadows
“Oopff!”
Lamb Chop One, Cosmo Nil.
This time I scramble, just, to keep my feet, but the woolly bastard is already bounding across the field, its bleating a derisive laugh.
“Oh, it’s like that is it?”
It’s grinning at me, I’m sure it is, before it turns away in disdain and munches down on a small patch of grass a few feet away. I narrow my eyes and set my jaw. I will not be dissed by a sheep.
I glance over my shoulder. Daniel’s still issuing instructions to my workmates, rounding them up along with the sheep, but I’m surprised to see that most of the animals are already in the little pen on the boat. His words of encouragement to the others drift over to me and I’m suddenly aware I’m on the outside. Everybody else is working as a team and they’re succeeding, whereas I’m here in a muddy corner of the field on my own. I turn back to the sheep with a determination that there will only be the one winner here.
“Okay Lamb Chop, this is it. I’m your mint sauce.”
My mistake has been to underestimate the enemy. Think like a sheep dog, Daniel said. I know dogs, I grew up with them, and I dig deep and find my inner Border Collie.
I approach slowly, not in a straight line but moving from side to side as I advance. Lamb Chop’s suspicious, but he’s also cocky. He’s outsmarted me twice, and thinks he can do it again. He edges back, but I’m sure there’s a smirk in his horrible little eyes. Slowly, bit by bit, I’m forcing him back towards the fence. But I can’t afford any sudden moves. It’s a cat and mouse game — well, man and sheep — but whatever, it requires stealth, cunning and patience.
Heavy rain falls. The ground under my feet is more slippery than ever. My hair’s flopped into my eyes, and I sweep it aside. Nothing is going to get in the way of me grabbing hold of the sheep and hauling it off to get dumped on the boat with its stinky friends.
“Do you feel lucky, Lamb Chop?”
I draw nearer. Our gazes lock, but I refuse to let myself become intimidated. The air crackles with tension. Everything is silent. The world has contracted to me and Lamb Chop. This is the ultimate and final battle. We both feel it, we both know it. All I need to do is claim the victory that is rightfully mine.
Lamb Chop is hemmed in against the wooden fence, but he thinks he can trick me again. He bounds forward, sudden and fast. He’s a woolly bullet, but I’m a step ahead as I leap and barge into him, knocking him to the ground. The silence is shattered, and the air fills with angry, indignant bleating as we roll around, scrapping in the mud.
“No way Lamb Chop, no fucking way,” I grunt out as I wrestle the sheep into submission. “Victory is mine, and you, my friend, are going to taste very nice with a mound of roast spuds and a pot full of gravy.”
My euphoria at being crowned King of the Sheep Tussle is short lived, as Lamb Chop strikes out with one of his hind legs, his evil little cloven hoof making very direct contact with my balls. My howl of pain joins Lamb Chop’s bleats. The little fucker is laughing at me again and despite my throbbing gonads, he’s not going to get away. I tighten my hold on him, but his thick wool is greasy and wet and it’s difficult to gain purchase, but I’ve got this far and I refuse to be defeated. We’re rolling around in mud. Yes, I am literally rolling around in the mud, with a sheep, in the rain. Christ Almighty, I know people who’d pay a lot of money to do this, preferably naked and oiled up, but I’m not one of them.
It’s Lamb Chop on top, and then me, then Lamb Chop again and we’re about to go into another tumble when he’s wrenched away from me.
I blink hard. Daniel’s standing over me, and he’s holding on tight to my woolly adversary.
Satan’s own sheep has his back pressed up against Daniel’s thighs and stomach. The sheep that just seconds ago was fighting for its life is now quiet and docile and looking very happy to be up close and personal against Daniel’s tall, broad frame.
“You did a good job with this one. He’s been a difficult bugger to catch hold of. Well done.”
“There was only ever going to be one victor in The Great British Sheep Off.”
I think I see a glint of admiration in Daniel’s eyes and maybe even the suggestion of a smile, but I haven’t got time to be sure as a second later he’s dragging Lamb Chop away, who’s showing no sign of wanting to escape from Daniel’s hold.
I stagger to my feet. I’m covered in mud, I stink, and I’m soaking wet but none of it matters because all I’m aware of is the warm glow spreading through me, knowing I made Daniel Russo smile.
Or almost.
