NIGHT DEPOSITS: February 2011

Once upon a time there was a farmer named Clovis who had a cow named April May. Clovis was very poor and April May wasn't much better off, but they had each other, at least until the day Hector arrived. Hector was a traveling minstrel who sang for his supper and danced for his lunch. He didn't eat breakfast. He had the gift of gab and a way with cattle, and he and April May hit it off immediately when Hector fell off the back of a pickup truck right at the edge of the north forty. He told her it was Fate and she should be his cow.

She was torn. She liked being Clovis's cow, but his hands were cold and calloused on her udders every morning. On the other hand, Hector's hands were as warm and smooth as Telly Sevalis's skull. But could she trust him? He was in show business, after all, and her mother had warned her about show folk.

April May told Hector she needed to sleep on the idea, and dozed off immediately. Her snoring turned Hector off, and her narcolepsy frightened him, so he hitched a ride to Hollywood.

When she awoke she found a note. "Dear April May, It was fun while it lasted, but you belong with Clovis and I belong on American Idol. It's for the best this way. Hector."

She shed a quiet tear and chewed her cud as she ambled back to the barn. She would never forget Hector, but she still had Clovis, cold hands notwithstanding. She had had a dizzying afternoon, and how many cows can say that?