l.o.v.e. spells trouble (and a horse)

chapter fourteen

After the family had eaten lunch, they wandered casually around, communing with nature.
"Look!" said Mackie. "There's a lake in that field."
"I think they call it a paddock in Australia, not a field," said Taylor gently.
"I wanna go swimming," said Mackie. Before they could stop him, he had run to the paddock, climbed over the fence, and was headed straight for the lake.
His family looked more closely at the lake. It seemed to have dangerous amounts of deadly-looking algae on it. They could actually SEE the poisonous purple gases rising off its stagnant surface. In an instant they were breaking all cross-country records as they raced after Mackenzie. Luckily Zac scooped the little boy up just in time, dodging a cloud of gas that floated threateningly towards them. The rest of the family breathed a sigh of relief and walked back across the paddock, right through a large patch of sword-grass. Mrs Hanson pulled out a band-aid and tried to stick Isaac's thumb back on where the sword-grass had sliced it off; it didn't really work, but knowing Isaac, by dinner time the wound would have probably healed to as good as new. The Hanson family was by then mightily sick of the whole "nature" concept.
Suddenly, they became aware of a loud snorting sound behind them. "Shut up, Isaac," said Zac.
"It's not Isaac," said Taylor. "He's busy fraternising with that duck."
"Then who is it?" asked Zac warily.
They turned around to see, in the midst of a cloud of dust of the horizon, a huge brown stampeding towards them.
"BULL!" yelled Taylor.
"Watch your language, young man," said Walker. He spotted the bull. "Oh, s**t! Run for it!" They started to run.
"If we can just get out of the paddock, the bull will have to stop at the fence," panted Diana. They ran for the fence. Isaac was the first to leap to the fence in a fluid, sinuously horse-like show-jump, followed by the rest of family, who scrambled frantically to safety.
"Phew!" they gasped, thinking they were out of danger, but the bull just kept on runnin'. It bunched up its massive shoulder muscles and hopped delicately over the fence, whereupon it resumed charging at the Hansons.
"Quick, get in the car," advised Zac. The clambered in, then Walker remembered, climbed out again, wound up the handle, and climbed back in. The engine roared, and Walker pressed the accelerator. Unfortunately, the entire road from Cottles Bridge to Melbourne was uphill, so the car didn't move. The driver's side sun visor flipped down, displaying a message from the car hire man: "Remember, this car don't do no uphill!" The family groaned.
"Okay, everyone!" commanded Walker. "Everyone out; start pushin'!" They got out.

Meanwhile, the accelerating bull noticed a daisy-cluster at the side of the road. It grinned, temporarily forgot the thrill of the chase and began to frolic, sniffing at the butterflies which fluttered nearby and kissed his nose.

Back at the car, the Hanson family sighed with relief. Thank goodness, breathed Zac.
"Keep pushin'!" yelled Walker.
Zac groaned. All this pushing was very hot work. He pulled off his windcheater, revealing a snazzy red T-shirt.
Over in the daisy-cluster, the bull's natural instincts kicked back into gear. He snorted a snort of genetically-programmed rage, and CHARGED! The Hanson family redoubled their pushing efforts. "He's attracted to your T-shirt, Zac," said Taylor frantically.
Zac was confused. "Why would he like my T-shirt?" he asked.
"Because it's red, duh!"
"Red? But I don't own any red T-shirts."
"Well, you're wearing one now."
"I am?" Zac looked down at his chest. "Oh, yeah, but this is YOUR T-shirt."
"That doesn't make any difference!" said Taylor exasperatedly. "But, anyway, I never said you could borrow my T-shirt."
"Taylor," said Walker, "Let your brother keep the T-shirt. Zac, sacrifice yourself for the good of the family."
Zac Hanson had been trained well; he didn't even blink. "Over here, Mr Bull," he called. As soon as he was sure the bull was paying full attention he started running fast in an easterly direction. The rest of the Hansons watched as Zac and the bull disappeared over the horizon. They went back to pushing the car.

About five minutes later the car hit a huge quicksand marsh. Fortunately, it wasn't too deep, so Taylor reckoned this was a good place to stop. They sat on a log and ate some walnut and pecan muesli bars which had been in Mrs Hanson's handbag. Taylor was staring blankly in front of him when he heard a rumbling from the distance. "Quick!" yelled Walker. "They've started shooting! Everyone, get down, quick!" They leapt behind the log and crouched down low, but Taylor carefully poked his tousled blond head up, and peered around.
Zac came running back over the horizon, and right past the log. The boisterous brown bull was right behind him, and gaining fast.
When they were out of sight, the whole family stood up again. Isaac wandered over to the car and began rummaging through the glove-box.
"You won't find anything interesting," Jessie said dismissively. "The only other person to drive this car was a little old lady spinster who just used the car to drive to church."
"Do you have her number?" asked Ike, unusually coherently, for him. He held up the contents of the glove-box. "Here are some things she might want to have back."
Jessie peered closely at the extra-large box of cigars, several well-thumbed explicit magazines, a bottle of whisky, a red lacy lycra g-string, and a pink plastic toy elephant. She reached a hand towards the whisky, but Walker intercepted her, grabbing the drink. He was about to lob it into a nearby bush, when it sloshed, and he yanked his hand back. "Lucky I caught myself," he commented. "It's still half full." Walker tipped his head back and drained the bottle. He staggered slightly, catching himself on Taylor's shoulder. "Good strong stuff, that." He shook his head to clear it.
Just then, Zac and the bull came running past again. This time, however, it was ZAC doing the chasing. The bull was clearly fleeing for its life.
"He's a good boy, that one," said Walker approvingly.
The family sat down again on the log to wait for any further developments. About five minutes later, they finally got some action, as the bull scrambled back onto the scene. Walker gasped; even HE was impressed. Zac clung to the back of the bull, riding bareback, his golden hair blowing in the wind. Whoa said Avie, impressed. "My brother's a cowboy!"
Unfortunately, the next time the bull circled, Zac was nowhere to be seen. The Hanson family were slightly worried by this, but more worried by the fact that the bull seemed to have become less discriminate in his choice of target, and was heading straight for them!
"Dammit to hell!" screamed Walker. "Please, God, I beg you, take that there bull and dammit straight to hell!"
They waited for about three and a half seconds before it became apparent that God was busy elsewhere. In a fury, Isaac reached for the log, lifted it far above his head, growled like the savage that he was, and smashed the log solidly against a nearby tree. Splinters sprayed everywhere. Taylor looked more closely at the tree, and gasped. Instead of a towering gum-tree and a massive log, in Ike's arms were now a spindly-legged chair with a padded velvet seat and a child-sized axe.
"See Ike-man's home-carving," grunted Isaac, dragging his knuckles on the ground and scratching himself. "Ike-man plenty good carver!"
"Where'd you get the velvet seat cover?" asked Taylor curiously.
"You'll never, never know..." said Ike mysteriously, straightening up and running a hand through his hair.
Taylor looked carefully at the red velvet pants he was wearing. The carefully reached a hand around and felt the back. He sighed; the seat of his pants was a neatly missing square.
The bull was still charging. "Save us!" screamed Avie, clinging tightly to Jessica and Mack. Just as they thought there was no hope left, that the bull would surely kill them all, something decidedly weird happened. As the panicked ones panicked even more, the bull began to topple, falling to the ground with a sigh, and a thud.
"It's dead!" yelled Taylor joyously.
"Thank you, Lord," said Walker gratefully.
"Don't mention it," said Isaac.
"You're God?" asked Walker reverently.
"No," said Ike, "I'm the Paleo..."
Isaac looked at Taylor, who was frantically waving his arms and mouthing, "Tell him, tell him!"
"...I'd rather not say," said Ike bashfully, and clammed up. Taylor sighed with relief. Thank goodness that reverse psychology always worked on Ike.

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