When cows vanish |
"23 Cows Are Missing" Fredrick stared in disbelief at the headline. Then, he looked at the date. His face relaxed into a grin. April 1. Of course, the newspaper was pulling a prank. A rather risky one, he thought, given how many sour people lived in the town --people who were always complaining even when there was nothing to complain about. This, surely ... His mobile was beeping. Unknown number. To answer, or not to answer? Answer, he decided. "Fredrick here." "Oh, I'm glad I got through to you. You have to come at once." "Who is this?" "Betsy, from the farm. The milkman, Lawrence, gave me your mobile number. Oh please come at once." "I'm afraid ..." "Lawrence, he said you're a sort of detective, and I have to find those cows before the farmer comes home He'll be back from his trip this evening." "But those missing cows ..." "Yes, yes, they're real. About a hundred people have asked already if I'm pranking, but I'm not. And the newspaper, it's official like. It wouldn't play pranks. Please come." Fredrick sighed. He had planned to spend his day off sitting at the dining table in his undershirt and shorts, eating buttered toast. Having brought the loaf of bread to the table and plugged the toaster conveniently to hand, he had vowed to get up only to go to the bathroom or to go to the sofa to nap. If someone was pranking him about cows ... "Please," said the voice, more urgently. Did he have any clean trousers? "I'll be there in 20 minutes," he said, and disconnected before the torrent of gratitude could pour out. One pair of clean trousers, one reasonable clean T-shirt, floppy slippers and car keys later, he was on his way. He got there in 15, to find Betsy at the gate. "They were all in their barn at 6 AM when I started the milking. And then, at 7 AM when the milkman came to collect the milk to deliver, the thought he'd come in and say hello to them like. He's fond of those cows, knows all of them from the time they were born like. And then -- we found one missing, and another, and oh -- there are 23 missing now!" Fredrick searched about, hoping to find a clue. Any clue. But there were non to be had. No hoofprints, no footprints, nothing disturbed or out of place. He searched the barn, the fields, the farm house ... everywhere. Not a moo, not a clue. What a to-do. Time ticked by. Betsy gave him a couple of boiled eggs for lunch, she didn't feel up to cooking, like, with those cows missing and all. "The farmer, he'll be here in half an hour, unless his train is late." "We must station ourselves at the station, and tell him before he catches sight of that headline," Fredrick mused. So they got into Fredrick's car and made their way to the station. The platform seemed to be strangely crowded, and people seemed to be pointing at something. There was an unusual hum of excitement. "OH - The cows! The cows like! All 23 of them!" There they were, holding up signs saying "We welcome Moo, dear Farmer Brown." "You naughty, naughty cows! How did you get here?" "We moo-ved on to the milk truck without Larry noticing," the Chief Cow replied. "We're sorry we didn't tell you but we did want to welcome Farmer Brown and we knew you'd fuss about us cleaning behind our ears and brushing our tail hairs before letting us out." "You are here with your tail hairs UNBRUSHED? Just you wait," Betsy threatened. "Just you wait till we get back to the farm, I'll give you ..." The train pulled in and the loud whistle made further conversation impossible. The cows loved Betsy, but they were afraid of her in a temper, and was she angry now!! Farmer Brown disembarked and there was a general rush to greet him. Hooves and heels ran toward him. Betsy reached him first, and began, volubly, to complain. She was so engrossed in her story, she didn't notice Farmer Brown winking and nodding to someone, or somecow, behind her. The train pulled out. Betsy ran out of breath at last, and stopped yelling. She turned -- not a cow in sight. No Fredrick, either. Just a paper boy, waving the newspaper with its headline: "23 Cows Are Missing" |