Wrapped around your finger - Post Malone

9

"Fucking calm down," Austin mumbles as he tries to pry Hazel's fingers from his clothing. She had climbed over the wall and launched herself at Austin, clinging to him like a baby monkey. "What the fuck is that?!" she asks peeping over his shoulder at the hogpen. Austin stops fussing with her fingers and looks over the wall. "That is Lucy-Lue. She is my prize hog. She has won me many competitions. 120 pounds and as big as a small horse," Austin explains reaching over the wall and patting her. Hazel clings tighter to Austin's back. "What competitions? People eating competition's? I have heard stories. I have watched those murder mysteries. People get fed to pigs! You are trying to kill me!" Hazel accuses him. Austin grabs her and tries to pull her off him but Hazel only clings to him tighter and so he only succeeds in pulling her to his front. "No! No! Please! Don't kill me!" Hazel screeches. "Fuck woman those dam nails of yours are like talons!" Austin complains and grimaces in pain. "Lucy-Lue is a hog not a pig and I would never feed you to her," Austin says. Hazel stops clawing and looks up at him, smiling.

"You wouldn't?"

"Nope...I only feed Lucy-Lue the best food and you, well you are full of shit. You would probably give my girl a stomach ache."

Hazel drops the smile on her face and chooses to glare at Austin instead. "How dare-" she starts but Lucy-Lue starts squealing loudly behind her. Hazel screams again and clings to Austin again. "Damit to hell, woman! Those fucking nails. Get them out of my fucking skin," Austin says walking away from the hogpen. Once he is some distance away he stops. "Get off. Now," he says. Hazel looks back at the hogpen, making sure the gate is closed. Then she jumps off Austin, outraged. Austin opens his mouth to say something, something stupid, no doubt. Hazel stamps her foot and folds her arms, cutting him off. "How fucking dare you! I was playing your game and when you realized you were losing you cheated! That's a coward's way out and I would never have taken you for a coward, Austin Post. Fuck you and fuck Lucy-Lue!" she shouts stomping off to the house. Fuck Austin, she won't let him get one up on her. If it's a fucking war he wants then it's a fucking war he will get.

"Linda, please may I have the truck keys," she asks as she walks into the kitchen. Fuck Austin. "On the hook by the door there, love. You all good?" Linda asks, chuckling again. Fuck, is this woman serious about anything in life? Fuck Linda. Hazel grabs the keys and heads out to the truck, kicking the tractor tire for good measure. Fuck that tractor too. She pushes the seat all the way forward and grabs the seed bag from the back seat, proping herself up. She starts the engine and makes her way down to the barn. She will show him that she is made of more than he thinks. Asshole. She parks the truck inside the barn and then jumps out. How many bales of hay would she need for the hogpens? She had seen one hogpen obviously, but there had been a line of others. Four? Five? A turkey that looks like it has seen some shit walks up and stands, staring at the hay bales, next to her. "You look like you have been around since the fucking dawn of time. How many hogpens are there and how many bales of hay do I need?" she asks it.

"Six hogpens and you will need six bales of hay."

Hazel's eyes widen and she turns slowly to look at the turkey. "Did...did you just answer me?" she asks. A talking turkey? Do turkeys talk? "Miss, if you are hearing talking turkeys it will make for one very interesting day," the same voice speaks again. Hazel spins around and comes face to face with the older version of Austin - Mr. Post. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought I was losing my mind there for a second," she says. Mr. Post raises his eyebrows at her then bobs his head. Seems he is not much of a talker and, fuck, he is chewing slowly - please don't let it be chewing tobacco.

"Ok, so six bales of hay?"

"Yup. Six."

"And I just pick them up and put them onto the truck bin?"

"Yup."

"With my hands? Blood, sweat, and tears - right? Ranch life."

Mr. Post frowns at her and then points to the side of her head. She looks up and sees a large hook attached to a metal rig. He walks up to the hook, grabs it, pulls it down, hooks it to a hay bale then stands back. Hazel watches the hay bale get lifted slowly into the air. Then Mr. Post taps it and the rig moves the bale over the truck. He hops on the back, pulls down the bale, and unhooks it. Then he jumps down dusting his gloved hands. "Repeat that five more times and you will be good to go," he says then takes off his gloves and hands them to her. "Your hands look soft - best to use these or you will get them all torn up," he adds. Hazel takes the gloves and puts them on. "Thank you for your help. I just wish your son was as nice as you. He let his hog out while I was cleaning the pen," she says grabbing the hook and pulling it down. She has to use all her strength. Mr. Post made it look way easier than it is.

"Pay him no mind. He is trying to run you off the ranch. But, if you don't think me too forward...I hope you stick it out. I have a good feeling about you," Mr. Post says. Hazel drops the second hay bale on the back of the truck and looks at him. She is sweating already and not sure she had heard him correctly. "You want me to stay?" she asks, making sure she heard him right. "I said I hope you stick it out. Staying or going would only be a reaction," he says climbing onto his horse. Do they all talk in fucking riddles? "I will go and lock the hogs up, but be sure to unlock them once you have cleaned their pens," he says then gallops off. Ok well, that was surprisingly comforting although completely unhelpful. Hazel jumps off the truck and starts on the hay bale. It's a shit job and by the last bale, she has had to put up her hair and deal with a wet sweaty shirt. She jumps off the truck and stands back to look at her handy work. "Not bad for a first-timer, hey Christmas Dinner?" she asks her new turkey friend. Christmas Dinner gobbles in agreement.

"What are you doing here?"

Hazel spins around and glares at Austin. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? I am fucking working!" she says. Austin smirks at her and crosses his arms over his saddle. "I had just presumed you had gone to the house to pack after your little tantrum," Austin says, chewing. "Little tantrum? Little tantrum?! Fuck you Austin!" she shouts and stamps off to climb into the truck. "You have already said that. Redundancy is laziness in a disagreement," he says calmly adjusting his stetson. Hazel stands on the door frame and leans on the roof of the truck. "Well how is this for redundancy?" she says and flicks him off then gets into the truck, starts it, and drives off back to the hogpens. Austin is an asshole, she does not want to get to know him. She will stay, but only for Evelyn. Only Evelyn. Not Austin.

She hears a gobble on the back set and slams on the brakes. Then turns around. "What the fuck! Christmas Dinner? You nearly made me shit my pants," she says clutching her chest. "Well if you are going to come with me you might as well sit up front," she says turning back to face the front. There is a sudden gust of wind and way too much flapping and gobbling as Christmas Dinner makes his way to the front and then settles down. "You done? Comfortable?" Hazel asks putting her foot on the peddle and driving back to the hogpens.