Free The Remarkables (The Remarkable Owen Johnson, part 1) by A. D. Elliott Page B

didn’t object to wearing it.
    After waving goodbye to Ken and Mrs Argyle and receiving directions to the shop, Owen stepped out of the barge and walked back the way they had come along the tow path.
    Passing the field they had failed to cross, he could see the cow, Myrtle, stood in the middle as before, staring at Owen. Curiosity compelled Owen to have a closer look at this bovine warrior and so he climbed over the fence and into the field.
    Myrtle fixed her gaze on Owen upon his approach, but made no effort to back away as he expected a cow would normally do. Owen continued his advance, until he was about three metres away and then stopped. Up until now Myrtle was standing at a slight angle to Owen, so that he could just about see her hind quarters. As soon as Owen stopped though, Myrtle moved her bulk so that she was directly facing him. Owen took another step toward the cow.
    Once again Owen felt the ti ngling sensation in his hands. He slowly moved another step closer. Myrtle clearly felt that this was a step too far, as she lowered his head and made a rumbling sound from her throat, nothing like the “moo” that you expect to hear from her species.
    The rumbling became louder and then Myrtle threw her head upwards. Owen felt a sudden force against his body, and found himself being thrown several metres into the air away from the cow. His arms flailed around in the air, still tingling and out of his sight until his right hand grabbed hold of something and Owen’s descent was halted abruptly.
    Hanging, Owen examined what it was he had clung onto. For the second time today he found himself suspended in mid-air about a metre above the muddy field. This time he was just holding onto an invisible object rather than standing on it as well. Startled Owen released his hold and fell, landing safely on both feet, impressed that he had prevented Ken’s t-shirt from befalling the same fate as the last two tops he had been wearing and becoming soiled.
    Myrtle had resumed her impassive gaze on Owen, and emitted a loud “moo” in response to Owen’s glare, then turned away and walked over to a feeding trough.
    Owen heard a call from behind him. “Stop playing with the livestock and fetch my dinner,” Ken shouted at him from the other side of the fence. He gave Owen a dismissive wave and headed back towards his barge, laughing to himself.
    Owen took another glance at the cow and abandoned any hope that he had at understanding any of the events that were transpiring today.

Flight
     
     
     
    Owen walked across the field and back onto the road that he and Mrs Argyle had followed from the station.
    He found the shop as Ken had directed and bought some sausages and eggs, along with a bottle of milk and a bag of apples. He also bought a small torch which he slipped into his bag as he didn’t fancy walking along a tow path should the night draw in quickly. He made his way back towards the barge, travelling the route that Mrs Argyle had taken after abandoning the way across Myrtle’s field.
    He arrived at the barge and stepped aboard, and was about to open the door when he heard the voices of the two siblings talking.
    “Just tell him the whole s orry tale and be done with it. It’s far too exhausting trying to separate truth and fiction.” Ken sounded weary.
    “Telling him everything will only make him into the angry young man you used to be, and I’ll be damned if I’m having a hand in providing this tattered world with another one of you.” Mrs Argyle’s voice was getting quieter then louder, leading Owen to assume that she was pacing the narrow cabin.
    “I ’m amazed he hasn’t demanded a full explanation already. To follow you as blindly as he has done so far either shows great trust or great stupidity.”
    “People can tr ust one another you know, Ken. Just because you haven’t ever formed a meaningful relationship with anything other than a stack of vinyl discs and a cow doesn’t mean the rest of us cannot.”