Goat
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Rob and Maria Dunleavy had lived next to Dean Rusbatch for almost 10 years. Rob and Maria had achieved an ambition in setting up a milking goat farm on 20 acres at the bottom of Whistledown Valley, and further up the valley road Dean kept cattle. They lived with their two pre-school children in a small farmhouse that Rob had largely built with his own hands.

Dean was not a good farmer. His stock never gained much value and his farm costs always seemed too high. Dean kept his head above water by growing marijuana. He smoked a bit himself, which did not help with his farming business.

When he needed any help he had found out that he could call on Rob. Rob was a very good farmer and had a huge number of skills. Rob would help Dean maintain his fences and water supply and repair machinery. It was agreed that this was just neighbourly help, to be repaid in kind, but in reality Dean could do little for Rob. He had no skills and was only slightly built – not much good for heavy lifting. Unlike Rob whose powerful physique could be called upon by Dean from time to time – as it was.

The relationship was friendly but not social. Dean was a bit of a loner, who had a series of casual relationships with women. Rob and Maria had only just had their second child and were absorbed in family life.

It had been the first time in a long while when Maria had gone into town on her own and found herself stranded when her car broke down. By chance Dean had been in town at the same time. He had come into town to sell drugs, and had been sharing the sampling of the product. He was high – way too high to drive. But Maria barely noticed. The truth is that she was in a panic to get home to the kids. She jumped at Dean’s offer of a lift.

Maria was killed when his truck left the road only a few miles short of home. She was alive in wreck long enough to whisper her last words to Dean. She made him promise to help Rob with the farm and the family she was leaving behind. Dean was only slightly injured and was able to go for help, but it was too late for Maria.

Rob was devastated. His soulmate was gone leaving him with a farm, and household and two pre-schoolers.

Dean took full responsibility but the drugs never came up in the police evidence on prosecution. Dean told the Court of his promise to the dying Maria. Dean’s lawyer was able to negotiate home detention. Because of his commitment to the Court to keep his promise to Maria, his perimeter included the homestead on Rob’s land. Rob was in Court but could say nothing. His anger was too deep to show.

After sentencing Dean was too depressed to consider doing anything other than smoking his way to oblivion. He could not even face Rob.

A few days after the ankle bracelet went on, Rob called Dean and asked him to come around to keep his promise. Rob was strong enough to hold it together but he was furious. “How can you expect to replace my wife?” he demanded.

“My life is shit,” Dean spoke the truth. “It belongs to you now. Take anything of me that you want.”

With the words “I intend to” Rob stood up, took a lasso from the table and tied Dean to the chair, pinning his arms and then dropping the chair back to bang Dean’s head on the floor. He tied his legs to the chair legs. He then pulled Deans pants down. From the same table he took two castration tools that he used on his goats. Dean suddenly recognised what they were.

Just before he passed out, Dean heard Rob say: “Dean’s life is over now. He did not deserve to live after killing my wife. Maybe the new Deanna can earn the right to live.”

***

Bo Karsten the probation officer, had been redirected to Rob’s place by a sign on the door of Dean’s shack, as he pulled up to Rob’s homestead. A thin figure in a floral dress opened the inner door leaving the screen door closed.

“Excuse me ma’am,” said Bo, “I’m looking for Dean Rusbatch.”

“That would be me”, came a male voice. The screen door was opened and Dean stood there. Dean’s long stringy hair was now washed clean and was tied into a bun on the top of his head. Their was a trace of eyeliner and lipstick but it was Dean alright. Bo’s eyes dropped to his ankle where the bracelet cuffed a shaven leg and a foot in a woman’s flat shoe.

“Well what a man wears in his own home is no concern of mine,” Bo sniggered. “I’m just checking in. I will be visiting from time to time.”

“Well you see it,” said Dean. “This is my reparation. Or should it be my penance. I am rendering the assistance I promised. I am filling in for the woman I killed, at least as best as I can.”

“Would Mr Dunleavy be home?” asked Bo.

Deanna stepped onto the verandah and called out towards the sheds: “Rob! Visitor!”

Rob strolled down to the house. Bo introduced himself. He added: “As a victim, we are 100% supportive of you, but any activity undertaken by a convicted person must be voluntary.”

“Is this voluntary Deanna?” Rob asked her.

“Yes,” she mumbled. And then when she saw Rob’s stare he said it again to him: “Yes”. And she turned to Bo and said: “Yes. Maria is dead and I can never fill that hole in the lives of Rob and the kids, but I want to do something. I am good around the house and getting better at it. I am doing something worthwhile and if that does something by way of compensation then I am satisfied.”

***

Rob seldom spoke to Deanna for the first few months, but he could see how hard he was trying. The meals were getting progressively better and the house getting progressively tidier. As a man Dean Rusbatch’s home was a neglected mess, but as Deanna he was proud of what he was doing, even though Rob never complimented him.

Deanna also took pride in looking after the children. Jemima was only 3 but Deanna made sure that she was clean and well dressed, including ordering in dresses from online stores. Little Magnus was not even one, but Deanna had seen him onto solid foods and almost out of nappies, without too much help from Rob.

That is not to say that Rob was a bad father. It was just that he and Maria had a true partnership in every sense of the word. He would work the land and the livestock, and she would look after the home and the garden. They would work together on handling the milk including keeping the records and checking on quality. Deanna had not extended to that but she was now keeping the house and kids tidy and putting food on the table within budget.

Deanna was still confined to the farm under the terms of the detention, but Rob told her that he had asked for permission for her to leave the farm for a period.

“Where do you want me to go?” she asked.

“Well, I have made some arrangements for some surgery,” said Rob. “That voice of yours is the main problem. I can’t stand it. It sounds like the voice of a killer. You need a different voice – a woman’s voice. There is a procedure that can be undertaken. If you want they can make some other changes to your face while you are on the table. I have made some suggestions. You will need to agree, and sign off on anything. But I expect you to do that. Oh, and there are hormone implants as well. This is not coming cheap and I am paying. Enough said. It will give you a chance to do what you promised. But it is for you to agree.”

Deanna felt like screaming at him: “You took my balls! Isn’t that enough!” But he did not say a word. Little Jemima skipped into the room at just that moment.

“Can I go down to the nursery pen Dodi?” she said, as that was what the children called her. Deanna’s heart melted as she nodded. As Jemima ran out of the house she turned to Rob.

“I told you that my life was yours. Then I didn’t care whether I lived or died. If you had killed me on the spot I could have cared less. Now I want to live. I want to serve you and the children as I promised Maria and the Court. I will accept the changes you want.”

***

Bo Karsten had taken off the ankle bracelet, and he returned 3 weeks later under the Court order, to put it back on. Deanna was a mess. Most of the bandages were off, but Deanna was bruised beyond recognition and could not speak.

Bo felt obliged to discuss things again with Rob, and met him at the milk shed for a private discussion.

“I am not sure what is going on here,” he said to Rob. “But if your idea is to turn this man into your wife then …”.

Rob cut him off: “My wife! Dean Rusbatch replace my wife! I loved my wife, more than anything in the world. This creature wants to be of service to me because of what he did. But he can never replace my wife. All I want is to not have to look on the face of a man I hate and hear his voice every day. That is why I asked for these changes. To Deanna’s credit, she has agreed.”

“Well that doesn’t surprise me,” said Bo, although he was a little surprised that he was using the female pronoun. “I think Dean Rusbatch is dead. The person you call ‘this creature’ is somebody very different. A better person all round. Why not accept that and cut her some slack.”

***

When Bo returned some weeks later he discovered that things had changed, at least a little. The first thing that he noticed was that Deanna looked very different. For a start there was her face – no other word was suitable – she was pretty. And her hair, still worn up for a working woman, was abundant and soft and shiny. And her figure – again she was wearing a working dress but now it fitted her. She had breasts that filled the bodice with an inviting cleavage. The sides hugged a delicious figure. Her legs were long and polished and tanned, like a swimsuit model. Her shoes were practical, to be slipped off for the rubber boots at the door.

“Hello Bo.” Her new voice was perfect, her neck now smooth and feminine. Her smile was the fit for a face that attractive. She had little Magnus on her left hip and Jemima was clinging to her right hand. “Come on in and I will make you some coffee. And maybe you would like to try some of our cheese”.

She was able to quickly array on the table some delicacies. Not just goat’s cheese but also a cake made with goat curd served with goat yoghurt. Deanna had been experimenting. While Rob’s farm sold their milk to a local dairy company she was keeping a small percentage for artisanal products.

“I want to be free of the bracelet. Rob has no time but I think that I can sell my product if I am able to get away from the farm.”

Bo explained that with Rob’s support parole was possible as she had served almost half of the sentence now, some two years after sentencing. It was good news, but he could see that there was a tear in Deanna’s eye. It was not the right thing for a probation officer to do, he reached out to take her hand.

“I try so hard,” she complained. “I do everything I can to look like somebody else, but I will always be his wife’s killer. He never seems to notice what I do to help. Our own product will be really good for our future, but I think he would rather punish me.”

Bo promised to put the application in, with or without Rob’s support. And that he did.

***

Bo and his wife went to the farmers’ market about a few months later. They went very rarely but it was a nice day. They saw a stand “Maria’s Dairy Goats”, and he wondered if it could be Deanna. As they came closer they could see the woman behind the counter laughing with some customers. She was wearing what could probably be called a milk maid outfit, in blue gingham with a small apron trimmed in lace and a low cut neckline showing full breasts. The woman’s honey blonde hair was in long braids. She wore makeup and was stunningly beautiful. Bo could see that under all the costume, it was Deanna.

He greeted her and to Bo’s wife’s dismay, the gorgeous girl hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, saying: “Bo, thank you so much for all that you have done for me.”

On the counter there was a range of cheeses, spreads, yoghurts and other products, although Bo remarked that many of her baskets were empty.

“The same thing every week,” she said. “We sell out half way through. Rob has to come and top me up. In fact here he comes now.”

Bo turned to see Rob weighed down with product approaching. His appearance seemed a little strange to Bo, until he realised that it was the first time he had seen him smiling.

She turned to an elderly customer and said: “That’s my man arriving with your goat’s brie, so that’s everything young fellow.”

The old gentleman turned to Rob as he took his goods and change and said: “You have a good one here. Look after her. You’re a lucky man.”

“I guess so,” said Rob. Bo saw him glance across to Deanna and exchange smiles, before greeting Bo.

“Things seem a little happier in your household I am guessing,” said Bo.

“Happier still after the final operation next month,” whispered Rob. That is the only thing standing in the way of a wedding as far as I am concerned.”

“No more punishment. Dean Rusbatch is forgiven and forgotten.”

“Dean Rusbatch is dead,” said Rob. “We are both agreed on that. And Maria is never to be forgotten by either of us. But if Deanna makes me as happy as my first wife, my world will be complete.”

“I think she will,” said Bo.

The End

(c) Maryanne Peters 2020