The Mule
Ray and Jay Ratliff worked on my family's farm since before I was born. It wasn't
because they necessarily liked their job, it was just all that they had ever done.
They were hard workers and were good at their jobs. After all, they had worked
there since they dropped out of junior high in 1973.
Ray is the older brother. He's about 36 or 37 years old now; though, with his
greasy, graying hair, rotten teeth, and deeply wrinkled face, he looks closer to 50.
Old Ray has never really had much luck in stretching a buck and has been on
welfare most of his life. Just like a lot of other welfare recipients, Ray has a lot of
kids. He's got six kids to be exact. They all live together in a small run-down, old
trailer a few miles down the road from us.
Jay is younger than Ray by a couple of years. Hard living has taken its toll on Jay
in much the same way as it has Ray. His financial state is no more stable than his
brother's. Jay decided to do without wife and children. Jay has always been
content with finding company at the bottom of a bottle. Even though Jay gets good
and drunk most every night, he manages to show up for work every other
morning. He might be late or too hung-over to be of any use, but at least he shows
up.
The Ratliffs were pretty good help but were always doing things the hard way.
Their methods were always what one could describe as being unorthodox. A
perfect example of this would be when Ray bought a mule from my dad.
My dad had bought a mule at a flea market one spring. It was an ugly, old son of a
bitch with huge, long ears. I remember the proud grin my dad was wearing as he
and the Ratliffs unloaded the mule into the field next to our house. I was sitting on
the front porch watching as they muscled the willful bastard into the field. Dad
spotted me and motioned for me to come and see this noble beast up close.
Up close, I realized that the mule was better looking far off. My dad, Grand
Master of All Things Tacky, was proud as Hell of his mule.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"I think you're crazy," I replied.
"Why?" he asked, shocked.
"That thing's a waste of money and space. Why
did you buy it?"
"It'll lend some character to this place."
"Oh, I see," I said giving up.
The Ratliffs were strongly in agreement with my dad. They always were. It was no
surprise to me that they also were of the opinion that the mule was just what we
needed. Ray, in fact, said, "I'll tell you what. I'd like to have me one of them!" Just
then the mule gave out a very loud "HEE-HAW!" as if it had heard Ray and
thought that was a fine idea.
As I did my work around the farm that day, I heard Dad's mule vocalizing several
times. I knew that when my mother got home in the evening Dad would catch hell
for his little purchase.
When I sat down at the dinner table that evening the argument had already started.
Dad's excuse that the mule would give our farm character was not holding up very
well. Mom's word is usually final. That particular time it was her decision that the
mule should go. Dad squirmed for awhile but was forced to give in.
Later that evening, I mentioned what Ray Ratliff had said about wanting a mule of
his own. The old man didn't seem to pay much attention, probably still sulking over
losing yet another argument to my mother. I decided to ask Ray myself in the
morning.
I was loading feed into the work truck the next morning when Ray's car pulled up
behind our barn.
Ray's car was one of a kind. It was one of those cars that had the size and the
ugliness that could only have come from the 70's. It seemed to be about twelve
feet long. The parts of it that weren't covered with rust were painted brown. You
could hear this car coming miles away. It was a sight to be seen when Ray's wife
and all of their children were stuffed into this car on their way to town.
"Mornin' Ray," I shouted.
"Watcha say, Evan," he replied walking over to
where I was. "Been busy this mornin'?"
"No, not really. I was just loading up some feed. I
was going to run over to the house and feed that
mule before I go up to feed the cattle."
Ray smiled and said, "What does your mom say
about that mule anyways?"
"Oh, she threw a fit and told Dad that it had to
go," I replied.
"You know what," said Ray, "I'd like to have that
mule."
Later on that afternoon when Dad came home, Ray came to the house and offered
Dad $50 for the mule. Dad did some head scratching but soon decided to agree.
Hell, knowing the old man, he was probably making a profit. Ray seemed pretty
excited and said that after work he would come back to get the mule.
After work Ray and I went to try to catch the mule. It seemed to us that the mule
had really developed a liking for life in the field. The two of us chased the
ill-tempered bastard until we were both exhausted. I was ready to give up when
Ray said, "Hang on, I've got an idea." He climbed over the gate and started
walking toward the barn. I thought that Ray was going to get a handful of grain to
try to coax that mule in. Just as I was thinking this, I heard Ray fire up his car. I
then saw his car whip out from behind the barn, up the driveway and down the
road in the direction of his house.
Thinking that Ray had decided to go home, I too went home. Just as I was pulling
my boots off, I heard his car coming back. I went back outside and saw Ray's car
going down to the gate of the mule's field.
As I started to walk back down to the field, I saw that Ray was not alone. Out of
that big, brown car came Ray, Jay, Ray's wife, and all six kids. What happened
next was the damnedest thing that I have ever seen.
Ray and Jay went in first. They didn't really try to catch the mule. Instead, they just
chased it until they got tired. At that point, the brothers were replaced by Ray's
wife and one of their kids. This continued until all of the Ratliffs had taken a turn in
chasing that poor old mule around the field. The Ratliffs had run that mule around
for almost 45 minutes before it finally collapsed in exhaustion. I stood in awe of
this display with my mouth hanging open I could scarcely believe my eyes as the
Ratliffs half carried, half dragged the now limp and compliant mule to their car and
stuffed it into the back seat. They all clambered into the car with the mule.
The car pulled up next to me, and inside I could see the mule crunched up in the
seat with its legs dangling in the floorboards. The kids were all over the car in
every place they could fit. Ray just grinned as he handed me the agreed $50. I was
speechless and just stood and watched as they drove away.