I shout to Truck. “Keep the goats distracted!”
“Gotcha!” Truck shouts back.
He stops running and starts flinging handfuls of dried grass like confetti, shouting, “Come on, goats! Lunch is on me!”
I grab Decker, putting my hands on his shoulders and righting him like a plank. Then I lead him toward the fence and he hop-walks alongside me. Champ and I open the gate and direct Decker out.
“Where’s the arm holes on this costume?” Champ asks.
“Corn doesn’t have arms,” Decker says, as if that explains everything.
“Yeah. Just ears,” Champ says.
Decker chuckles from inside the yellow suit.
After about ten minutes of careful maneuvering, we manage to get the zipper down without damaging the costume.
Decker emerges, shucking the corn cob suit and shaking his arms out. “No way I’m being Corny this year. Noooo way.That costume tried to hold me hostage.” He rubs his rear and turns to look over the fence at the goats.
Truck is running back and forth shooing at the goats, saying, “Git! Git! Git!” while goats do anything but.
Decker holds the suit up and away from him, carrying it back to the barn.
Champ yells for Truck. “Quit playing around and let’s get back to the station.”
Truck runs toward the fence, goats skittering behind him. “Who’s playing?”
He hops the fence, and turns to actually stick his tongue out at the herd as soon as he’s safely out of reach. “Not today, little monsters.”
One larger goat bleats at him.
The rest of the day is goat-free and corn suit-free. I leave the station at five, driving my usual route home, down State Street.
The lights are still on at the Dippity Do.
Possibly against my better judgment, I pull into one of the diagonal spaces in front of the shop.
I sit in my truck, staring out the windshield into the salon, Champ’s words running through my mind on repeat.
The bell over the shop door tinkles when I walk in.
Laura turns, sees me, and then she glances at the large clock on the wall over the reception desk.
“Do you have an appointment, EJ?”
“No. Not today.”
Angie glances at me and then back at her customer, Hazel.
“I … uh …” My mind stutters.Why did I come in here?“I just thought I’d stop in and check to make sure everything’s okay after the dryer incident.”
“Oh,” Laura says. “It’s been running fine. No other problems.”
“Great,” I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets and blowing out a quiet breath.
Angie removes the cape off Hazel and asks, “What do you think, Hazel?”
“I love it. You were right. I should have trusted you from the start.”
