“I don’t think he’d notice whether I am or not.” His face hardens.
Sheep Finder:I’ve heard stories about people in comas being able to hear loved ones speak to them and even remember some of what they said when they wake up.
“Yeah, me too, but . . . wait . . . How’d you know he was in a coma?”
Sheep Finder:Lucky guess.
“I . . . I should probably get that nap now.”
Sheep Finder:What happened to the screen shot you owe me.
“Oh right . . . I forgot. I’m just suddenly really tired, and I need to get a lot of homework done before bed tonight.”
Sheep Finder:Want me to watch you fall asleep, and once you do, I’ll log off?
His bottom lip trembles. “I . . . If you’re willing to pay for the time, then sure.”
Sheep Finder:Is that the only reason you want me to?
“No,” he says between shallow breaths. “I’d like you to watch me.”
Sheep Finder:Then I’ll be everywhere you need me.
Carrying the computer back to his room, he sets the device on the desk and settles in his bed. His eyes go from wide open to slowly closing as he dozes off. Instead of logging off as soon as his breathing evens and he goes completely still, I stick around for a little longer. He talks a little in his sleep, yelling at the sheep to stop eating his socks, and I laugh.
When he starts to shift over, I send him a big tip and end the video. There’s lots to be done before dark, and I’ll need to make up for tomorrow’s lost time somehow. Except the only time that feels wasted is when I’m not spending it with him. How can this aggravating, clueless little shit have such a huge effect on me? I’ve been around many supposedly powerful men, but no one else has ever possessed me before, and I didn’t think it was possible.
Normally, he’d be on my own personal hit list for making me feel weak or being a possible future problem, but I’d rather put my own name there before his.
No way can this end well. I accepted a long time ago that I was meant to be alone, so I can’t let him swoop in and make me question myself. But here I am letting him do it anyway, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Seven
Patrick
I tossed and turned in bed last night, going back and forth on who the man hiding behind the name Sheep Finder was. Could it really be him? It’s too good to be true, especially for someone like me. I was surrounded by men back in the city and had way more misses than hits. What would be the chances I’d come to bum fuck Missouri and find love with the only guy for miles who keeps telling me how bad a farmer I am. Wait…did I seriously say love?
Although weirder shit has happened to me, and I do often feel like I’m a test subject for the universe. Can the moody neighbor with looks that could kill fall for the squirrel-brained hopeless mess? Not that it’s not a perfect setup for opposites attract coupling. Nah, it’s not him. Absolutely not. A deep-down sensation is having a hard time letting the idea go, though.
I’m mean, sure we all want our lives to be like a Hallmark film—and I might have envisioned some bee farmer catching me when I slipped in cow shit on some random road—but I’m used to my life being based more onthe showSurvivororAlonewhere I’m suffocated by burlap while trying to give the sheep some shade.
Or maybe I get drowned in my neighbor’s pond by some viewer who decides he really wants to be everywhere he thinks I need him?
Chills climb up the back of my neck and my cock jumps. Yeah, I need professional help. Too many mornings in the sun are getting to me. Okay, afternoons. Or maybe the soup in my brother’s house has gone bad, or I’m suffering from a sodium overdose.
I asked the man to watch me sleep. It’s one thing to pretend someone’s watching or to role play with a partner, but to actually ask a stranger to do it . . . Warmth swarms in my belly when I hear the bushes shake behind me, as I fill the water buckets to kill some time before my neighbor comes over for our lesson.
If I ask him to show me another finger-sucking one, will he know what I’m talking about? Is he waiting for me to ask?
After weighing all the reasons it both could and couldn’t be him against each other, I unlink the water hose because it isn’t long enough. Leaves crunch and I turn around, being met only with the dark. The only light I have to work with is the small amount from my front porch and the fading moon. He said six, and it’s only five. If I hadn’t stayed awake after opening my eyes too early, I would have overslept, and my brother really needs me to get this right.
This place means a lot to him. Being a farmer was his dream ever since we were kids. This also might be the only way I can keep him in my life if he doesn’t pull through.
A gust of wind sweeps through my hair, and rustling comes from behind me. More bushes shake the branches, and an apple crashes to the ground. As I turn back around to ignore the shadow I swear my exhausted mind is hallucinating, an apple rolls to my feet, hitting the back of my heel.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I bend down to pick it up, looking around me. What if someone really did want to be everywhere I was, with or without telling me beforehand? And what if I want them to be too. Excitement rolls through me, beautiful hints of fear licking at the back of my neck, sending me on an addictive high.
I don’t have to pretend I’m in danger this time, my intuition tells me I am, and so does the gooseflesh on my arms.