Between Bulls

by - February 20, 2019


Two bulls were ready to kill each other. But their wise village chief always know what to do.




Two buffaloes on a wet paddy field. Nostrils flared with hot breaths. Mouths wide showing off gritted teeth. Hot and sweaty, sizing up the other. But patience ran out and both bulls charged on.

Spectators grew as sickles and hoes were put aside. They could use the rest. Raging bulls didn’t happen everyday. Did you bring tea? Cool tea for this hot morning? Don’t mind if I do. Oh, Penghulu, would you like some?

The village chief was still a strong man despite his wrinkles and white hair. He waded into the mud just as both buffaloes charge again. The Penghulu caught them neatly by the wrists.

The crowd cheered at his strength.

“I’m taking you to the police.” He said to the shorter man.

“I did nothing.” He pulled away.

“You’ve been stealing rice from his storehouse -”

“Exactly!” interrupted the other one. “Every grain was saved for my family this year. I couldn’t even afford to sell them. Yet you stole from me, you rat!”

“Speaking of rats,” said the village chief. “You’ve been putting some strong poisons in your storehouse, haven’t you? Anyone who enters without a mask would be instantly poisoned, right? Their fingertips will turn black and the next day, they’re as dead as the rats.”

The suspect turned pale.

“I’ve the antidote but if you really didn’t steal his rice, you don’t have to worry.” The chief turned away.

The crowd gasped when the man grovelled to his feet.

“Please, I don’t want to die! Let me have the antidote, chief!”

“Take him away.”

“The antidote, please!

“Ask it from the buffaloes!” The chief pushed him off.

The huge animals turned to him, chewing on grass nonchalantly. When the culprit was handcuffed by the police, they returned to plow the paddy field properly.



Part Of The Anthology: Minimal 2019

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