Out in the Open Read Online Free Page B

boots looked as if they were made of cardboard. After helping him to his feet, the boy took a few steps back and stood watching the man, who was becoming more agile with each passing minute. The boy was again surprised by the ease with which he bent down to retrieve the blanket and fold it up. With the blanket over his arm, the old man whistled to the dog, which sprang to its feet and ran off to where the other goats were grazing.
    The old man went over to the pyramid-shack and reached in through an opening in the branches that served as an entrance. He returned carrying a cork stool and a metal bucket. He took down the milk churn from where it hung on the wall and carried everything over to a small square enclosure. The dog had gathered the goats together and, by dint of barking and snapping at their heels, was herding them towards his master. When they had all arrived, the man removed one post from the corner of the corral fence, creating an opening through which he shooed in the goats. When they were all inside, he replaced the pole and joined it to its neighbour with the thick wire loop attached to one of them. Crammed in together, the goats were bleating furiously and trying to clamber on top of each other, resembling nothing so much as a pot of boiling stew.
    The goatherd placed the bucket next to the section of fence that had served as a gate. The bucket was as wide at the bottom as it was at the top, and reminded the boy of the one they used at home to empty the latrine. The old man made sure the base was firmly embedded in the dusty ground, then from inside the bucket he took an adze and three rusty rods. He cleaned the mud off the blunt side of the blade and began hammering the rods into the ground very close to the outer edge of the bucket. When he had finished, he checked again to make sure that the bucket, like an encrusted jewel, would not move. He placed the stool so that it was facing the bucket and sat down. The boy had observed these comings and goings as if he were witnessing some vision of Our Lady. Open-mouthed, eyes lowered. The only part of his anatomy that moved was his head, which turned from side to side as he followed the goatherd’s every manoeuvre.
    Sitting on the stool, the old man again lifted one of the posts in the fence to create a narrow opening. He reached in and grabbed a goat by its leg, dragged it out and positioned it with its rear end over the bucket. He then grasped the animal’s teats and began milking. While he was working, he gazed up at the sky, as if checking for signs of rain. Echoing the old man’s movements from afar, the boy also scanned the sky. Above their heads, the heavens were growing brighter, the glow slowly dousing the last and brightest stars. The sun, still lingering behind the hills in the east, would soon appear. Not a trace of cloud in the sky.
    The boy looked back at the goatherd, who now had his head almost pressed against the animal’s rear end and was briskly squeezing and pulling at the teats. The old man seemed nervous. When the goat, grown restless, kicked at the bucket and tried to run away, the old man tethered her back legs to two of the rods, only untethering her when he had finished milking. The goat then fled over to the poplars, where she reassured herself by nibbling the tips of the lowest branches.
    One by one, all the goats came to the milking pail. As the boy watched it filling up, he wondered what the goatherd could possibly do with so much milk in the middle of that wilderness. When he’d finished, the old man got up and carried the bucket over to the churn, poured the milk into it and put the lid on. That was when he turned and spoke to the boy.
    â€˜You know, it’s all the same to me if you’ve run away or if you’re simply lost.’
    The remark caught the boy unawares, and he shrank back. There was a long silence.
    â€˜Some men will be coming soon to collect the milk.’

3
    THE BOY SPENT the rest of