A creative writing exercise from undergrad's

The Ram

When I was ten, my parents accepted teaching jobs abroad and decided I should spend my fourth grade in Tunisia. And so, I was left behind to spend the school year at my grand-parent’s farm where I have never been able to fit in. Two of my uncles lived there and their children viewed me as the spoiled city boy with his fancy clothes and video-games. They did not hide their disdain and I did not try to win their affection.

As soon as my family left for the airport, my cousins gathered around me and hammered me with questions. To the grown-ups, it merely looked like childish curiosity, but I saw something they could not decipher in my cousins’ gazes: War was on.

I was not the kind to yield even though they outnumbered me. Ando so, they started picking on me. It worked at first, but I soon became impervious to their teasing. Their next tactic, by far the most effective was denouncing my misbehavior and I got punished way too often. But I had patience and endurance enough to plot my vengeance and plot it well. I knew I would be severely punished for it. That’s why I delayed the execution of my plan for a very long time, for I knew it would ignite my uncles’ ire.

My grand-father was a stock-farmer and he had an old ram he used for breeding. The ram was quite quarrelsome and he was kept apart from the rest of the flock since he often attacked other sheep and did some serious damage in the past. I knew my cousins were scared to death of the beast and I decided he would be the instrument of my vengeance.

Meanwhile, as my plan steadily ripened in my mind, I had to suffer my cousins’ treacheries. They have never forfeited the opportunity to report my transgressions to my uncles. I got punished again and again: no cartoons, reduced playtime and endless boring lectures that did not change the way I behaved. I was quite stubborn and petty as they were, the little collaborators carried on with their work of sabotage throughout the whole year.

But, on the eve of my parents’ return from abroad, I knew my uncles would be lenient if I put my plans to work and even if they did punish me, my parents would deliver me from their wrath as soon as they arrived. At least that was my ten-years-old thinking. It was the first day of the summer vacation and my cousins and I were allowed to spend the day playing. Everyone suggested a game in turn. As part of my ploy, I suggested hide-and-seek. At first they refused but they soon ran out of ideas and finally agreed to mine. When my turn came I waited for my cousins to hide and knowing no one would come close to the ram, I ran towards him to complete the final stage of my plan.

He was a large, fearsome beast, old and bitter. His threatening horns curled around his ears in what seemed an infinite loop and made him look like a three-headed creature. But on that hot day of June, he was sprawling under the olive tree to which he was attached, chewing his cud and seemingly unbothered by my incursion into his guarded realm. He looked more like a lamb than the nasty beast I needed him to be to achieve my vengeance.

I had to come up with a way to make him regain his legendary wildness and I did not have much time; soon my cousins would come out of their burrows, bored of waiting for me to find them. I curled my hands into fists to overcome my fear and started dancing around the beast, waving my arms, hopping around and stomping heavily with my feet. The ram did not like my clowning, got up to his feet and started scratching the soil with his massive hoofs, raising dust around him. His nostrils hissed like a mad serpent and his eyes blazed with rage. I stopped fooling around. The sight of the frenzied creature trying to get loose sent a chill down my spine. Stunned with fear, I started to reconsider my plan. But I had promised myself a final victory an in a fit of courage, I jumped aside and went straight to the base of the tree to deliver the beast.

It was the tricky part of the plan. The fiendish creature could turn on me any time now. But I had to take that risk; no plan of genius has ever been without risk, and mine surely was pure genius. Luckily enough, the ram somehow knew I was an ally, at least a temporary one, and although he was aiming at me, he did not charge. I loosened the rope but did not completely undo the knot, hoping to buy myself sometime and started running like hell, glancing back from time to time to see the fiend on the loose, gaining on me and, to my childish imagination, he seemed breathing fire. I pushed along and made for the wall surrounding the farm. Panting, I climbed up, waited until I caught my breath and from my safe haven started shouting at my cousins, pretending I could not find them, admitting defeat. They appeared one after the other, proud of their hiding skills. Instantaneously, the ram lost interest on me and started chasing them.

My plan was a success: my cousins were running around like scared rabbits, dodging the beast as it charged one then the other. Their screams filled my ears like a sweet symphony. It was a triumph, a flawless victory, the perfect vengeance! No one was harmed, but I distilled fear into their treacherous hearts, and grinning in delight, savoring my revenge, I did not see my uncle closing in on me. He caught me by the collar, got me down and said:” Your parents called, their flight was cancelled. They won’t be back before next week!” And my smile faded away.