The Caretaker of Lorne Field

Lester struggled to get the sack over his shoulder, his knees buckling. “We’re taking it over to that stone pit over there,” Durkin said, pointing out with a thick knobby finger where his son had to bring the sack. As he led the way, he looked back once and couldn’t help grimacing watching Lester’s thin bird-like legs shake as he struggled to carry the sack of dead Aukowies. He regretted thinking the things he did earlier. The boy may not be much but at least he was out there trying. As thin and slight as he was, he was going to have a hard road ahead of him as Caretaker. The Durkins historically were of a stockier build. Lester, unfortunately, had to take after Lydia’s side of the family and end up as thin as a stick. The boy was already over six feet tall and didn’t weigh more than a hundred and thirty pounds. When they reached the stone pit, he helped Lester dump the sack out.

“It smells bad,” Lester said, wrinkling his nose.

Jack Durkin nodded. “Yep. Those dead Aukowies been baking in the sun for a few hours now, getting nice and ripe. Wait till you catch a whiff of them when I set that pile on fire later. The smell alone will prove that these ain’t no weeds.”

“They look like weeds,” Lester said stubbornly, his eyes squinting and peering off at the field.

“You’ll think differently soon. Now grab that empty sack and follow me.”

Jack Durkin led the way back to the shed near the entrance of the field. “Your great great grandpa built this almost a hundred years ago,” he proudly told his son. “Solid pine. Probably be around another hundred years.”

Lester shrugged, didn’t seem too impressed. “How come one of the weeds is bigger than the others?” he asked.

“’Cause I needed to let one get that size.” Durkin stopped to wipe some sweat from his brow. He frowned deeply at the foot-tall Aukowie. “Son, you’re going to have to be extra careful around that one. When they get that big they can whip out at you like a rattlesnake, and trust me, they’re far more deadly than any snake.”

“Sure they are,” Lester muttered under his breath.

Durkin heard the crack, but showed nothing except weariness, and maybe a bit of tenderness, in his heavily-lined leathered face. “It’s true,” he said. “You’ll be seeing soon enough, son. When they get to two feet, they get much bolder. Then they’re like a rabid pit bull, flying all over the place trying to get at you. But at one foot they’re still dangerous enough. Hell, even at two-inches they can hurt you pretty bad.” He breathed in deeply and sighed. “Just keep your distance from that sucker when we go over to it.”

“Why are we going over to it?”

“So you can record it when I dig it out. You’ll see what an Aukowie really is then.”

Durkin opened the door to the shed and took out a spade for Lester to hold onto. He was going to need that spade later when it came time to subdue the foot-high Aukowie. He next retrieved Charlie Harper’s video camcorder that he had left in the shed for safekeeping. He struggled for a moment to hit the power button with his thick index finger, then handed the camcorder to his son. “You remember from last night how to use this, right?” he asked.

Lester rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

Durkin ignored the insolence and said, “Since you didn’t wear work boots we need to stay off the field where they’re growing more than an inch, otherwise they’d slice your feet to ribbons. Follow me and don’t put your hands anywhere near one of them, okay?”

“Okay,” Lester muttered. He hesitated and asked, “How come you’ve been keeping your hand in your pocket?”

“I got careless earlier.” Durkin took his hand out and showed Lester the blood-stained handkerchief tied a few inches above his wrist. “You can never let an Aukowie taste human blood. Not even a drop. Don’t matter how big they are, they’ll go nuts if they do.” He studied his own arm and nodded slowly. “Looks like I don’t need to worry about bleeding on them anymore. Be careful, okay, son? You might think this is all one big joke right now, but it ain’t.”

Durkin untied the handkerchief from his arm and folded it back in his pocket. Blood had scabbed over his wound. He took his glove from his pocket, put it back on, then led the way along the edge of the field. When he got to where he had stopped his weeding, he told Lester to stand still.

“I was hoping today to start teaching you how to kill these things, but I can’t do it without you wearing gloves. These critters are tricky. You got to grab them just the right way and pull up at just the right angle. After a while you’ll get the hang of it. For now, though, watch me. Also, take a deep breath and listen carefully.”

Durkin waited until his son did as he was told, then he reached down and pulled a two-inch Aukowie from the ground. He turned his head sideways to look at his son.

“You hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?”

“The scream it made when I killed it.”

“Nope. I didn’t hear nuthin’.”