Pagan

"Of course not Richard; perhaps she has no physical presence at all except in pictures and as you've seen, in statues we make, but it is what she represents that's important, and I think she represents good and beautiful things in life."

"And you want to be like the things she represents?"

"Pagan laughed and said, "I try, Richard, I try."

"But you said she was the goddess of fertility and love and sex so does that mean you...?"

"Ah, yes, Freyja likes to give her love freely, but on the other hand she's particular who she gives it to." She looked at Richard searchingly for a few moments and added, "I'm particular too."

Richard rather enviously wondered whom she was particular with. Resolving that he'd keep and eye open for any lovers hovering around Pagan he yawned and Pagan said, "Yes, better go to bed, we've got a heavy day tomorrow."

With the threat of a "heavy day," he tottered off to bed and was quickly asleep. In his dreams the bare breasted Freyja statues took on a look of Pagan.

* * * * * * * *

He was awakened at dawn, a most unusual event in his life, by the uproar of birds singing, a rooster crowing, the distant sounds of cows moaning and the general cacophony of a rural dawn. He groaned and put his head under the covers but the sounds seemed to penetrate.

After ten minutes he surrendered to the clamour, rose from the bed and after obeying the demands of nature he took a shower and shaved. After that he dressed in his overalls and made his way as silently as possible so as not to awaken Pagan, to the kitchen, intending to make himself a cup of coffee.

On his way he was joined by Sif who seemed to have lain at his door all night.

To his amazement he found Pagan already in the kitchen stirring porridge in a saucepan, Odin sitting at her feet. She was a once more transformed Pagan, having returned to her overalls and T-shirt.

It was odd, but Richard thought she looked almost as sexy in these clothes as her red dress of the previous evening. Somehow the T-shirt moulded itself to her breasts, and the overalls fitted snugly over her high firm buttocks.

"You're up late," she admonished.

"Late," protested Richard, "it's only seven o'clock."

"I've been up since six o'clock," Pagan said, "country people don't lay in bed half the day," and plonking a large plate on the table said, "Here's your porridge."

This was too much for Richard, so he protested, "I always have Chocy Sweetie Pops for breakfast."

"Chocy Sweetie Pops!" Pagan exclaimed in a disgusted tone. "Firstly, I don't have any Chocy Sweetie Pops, and secondly, we've got work to do and you need a proper breakfast and you won't be getting anything else."

Glumly Richard started to eat the porridge and after a couple of spoonfuls complained, "It isn't very sweet."

"Got salt in it," Pagan said brusquely.

"Salt!" Richard exclaimed.

"If you want it sweet put some honey in it."

"Honey?"

"What's the matter, haven't you heard of honey?"

"Of course I have, mum buys a jar of it every week at the supermarket."

"Hmm, that stuff! I get mine from Jason; he's got beehives so it's the real thing."

She pushed the jar of honey across the table and Richard spooned some into the porridge and stirred. Trying it he said, "Mmm, it's not bad like that."

"That's good because that's what you'll be getting for breakfast every morning, except Sundays when we'll have bacon and egg. Chocy Sweetie Pops!" she snorted.

"I suppose you want me to pick up more manure?" Richard said after a while.

"Only in the stables, must keep them clean, but it'll be several days before there's enough manure outside to make it worthwhile picking up."

"What we've got to do is deliver the stuff you collected yesterday and then get on with painting the stables. I scraped down and undercoated them a couple of weeks ago so it'll be fairly easy. I'll clear up here while you load the sacks of manure."

Followed by his shadow Sif Richard went to where he had stacked the sacks and commenced humping them into the back of the truck.

"Why the hell don't you help," he complained to Sif, who wagged her tail in response.

"That's no way to talk to her," Pagans said, appearing unexpectedly, "she's in love with you."

"In love...a dog?" Richard objected.

"Why not, I put a great deal of store by Sif's response to people. You should be flattered; she's never taken to anyone the way she's taken to you. Anyone she doesn't take to I'm always very wary of, and she rarely takes to men, so..."

"So it's a good sign?"

"Yes, and if it's of any importance, I've taken to you as well. It's true you're not really used to hard work, but you'll be all right. Now let's get this manure delivered. We've got Bandy Brian, Spud, and then Denzil and Mavis to call on."

Bandy Brian lived up to his name. He had spent most of his working life on horse back, working at racing stables. Spud was so named because he specialized in growing potatoes and Denzil and Mavis (chicken poo) was a couple of aging left over hippies from the nineteen sixties, and as Pagan said, "It's better not to ask what they grow."

Richard noted that Pagan continued to introduce him as, "My friend Richard."

Back on Pagan's block it was stable painting time. They wielded paint rollers until lunch time and by then Richard's arms were aching, and as he put it, "My belly is sticking to my back bone."

"Good," Pagan said, "a healthy appetite, I like that."

Lunch consisted of soup that had the consistency of stew and Richard had two helpings.

They slogged on with the painting until Pagan said it was time to stable the horses, and this time they were groomed. Richard who had never groomed a horse in his life, and was wary of them anyway, followed Pagan's instructions and managed one and a half horses and narrowly missed being struck by an irritated horse kick.

Since they were going to the pub for the evening meal they showered and changed. This time Pagan disturbed poor Richard with a black dress held up by narrow cloth passing round her neck and tied behind, the dress being backless. It was even more translucent than the other dresses she had worn. Her only adornments were the earrings she had worn the previous evening and a silver bracelet.

Richard resorted to his last pair of clean jeans and a dark green T-shirt. He thought the dark green might please the Freyja in Pagan, but he still felt like a secondhand rag bag beside her.

Dressed as she was, it seemed incongruous to Richard that they were going to drive in a manure smelling truck to the pub, but obviously this didn't bother Pagan.

He thought what a curious mixture of farm labourer and elegant princess she was, and her dress sophistication in no way changed her driving habits.

* * * * * * * *

The pub, named "The Wild Jackaroo," Richard had only glimpsed on his arrival. Now looking at it more closely he saw it was in a nineteenth century colonial style with wide verandahs supported by heavy red gum posts.

They passed through a dimly lit bar being inhabited by a couple of men who yelled out, "G'day Pagan." They entered a small dining room that was more brightly lit and were greeted by a stout man who also said, "G'day Pagan," and then added, "Haven't seen yez lately."

"No, Sid," Pagan replied, "I've been a bit busy. Sid, this is a friend of mine who staying with me, "Richard, this is Sid Wellings, he owns this place."

They shook hands, and a knowing look came into Sid's bright beady eyes. "Staying with yez is he? Well...well...you look after our Pagan then, she's something special round here. We reckon she'll be standing at the next council election, that right Pagan?"

"I'm thinking about it Sid," Pagan replied.

"Yers...yers...well, nice ter meet yez Richard, ha...ha...here's the menu, yer want the usual Pagan?"

"No, it's special tonight, so a bottle of your best red, Sid."

"Ah, special is it?" He winked at Richard. "I'll see what I can dig up for yez."

They examined menus in silence until Sid returned bearing a bottle of wine.

"Me very best Pagan," he chortled, "And seeing as it's a special celebration tonight it's on the house."

"Oh Sid that's not..."

"No...no..." Sid said as he produced a corkscrew and opened the bottle; "on the house. Tell yer what yer can do, drop us round a couple of bags of manure for the wife's veggie garden next time yer in. Now, what's yer order...tell yer what, how about a couple of our great local steaks, they'll brace yer up for the rest of the night."

Pagan glanced at Richard saying, "They're very good."

Richard nodded.

Sid chuckled and saying, "Some of the local lad's noses'll be out of joint, ha, ha," he departed.

Richard had been trying to follow Sid's somewhat esoteric chatter and had the distinct feeling that he'd somehow missed the point, but then, he'd vaguely felt like that during the meetings with Pagan's manure customers and neighbours.

"An odd man," he said.

"You think so?" Pagan replied. "Well perhaps he is a bit forthright, try the wine."

Richard was not a wine drinker normally so he sipped cautiously. It went down like honeyed silk.

"That's not bad, not bad at all." He followed the sip with a long swallow and held out the glass for a refill.

"Take it easy Richard," Pagan chuckled, "I don't want to have to carry you to the truck."

Like many males Richard was proud of his imagined alcohol intake capacity so he said, "I could drink you under the table anytime."

"A silly boast Richard and I don't like drunkenness or people with hangovers in the morning."

Richard was a bit nettled by this comment and snapped back, "Used to having people with hangovers around in the morning are you?"

"Richard, I want us to have a nice evening; I was only joking, and anyway, you could hardly get drunk on one bottle of wine – or rather half a bottle of wine - just nice and relaxed, so let's get relaxed."

"Sorry Pagan, it was silly, and I don't usually drink much anyway."

* * * * * * * *

The following days were filled with a variety of jobs; stable painting; "shit" collecting; vegetable garden weeding, digging and planting; horse feeding and grooming, and even household tasks such as cleaning and meal preparation ("I'll teach you to cook," Pagan had said).

Pagan ceased wearing her Freyja dresses, and both of them were rarely out of their overalls. They did not return to the pub for a meal, but they did deliver a couple of bags of manure as a sort of "thank you" to Sid for the bottle of wine.

Saturday came round and with it people who wanted to hire the horses. They were mainly young teenage girls with only one exception, a teenage boy.

Pagan now appropriately dressed in khaki jodhpurs and shirt taught them how to ride, using a sort of obstacle course she'd constructed at the lower end of the block. The young guy tried to show off in front of the girls and fell off the horse at the second jump. The horse stood there looking at him as if to say, "Bloody idiot."

When the main lesson was over Pagan took the group out through a gate at the bottom of the block and they trotted off in the direction of a small wood and disappeared from sight.

Richard, for once at leisure, sat on the back veranda with Sif at his feet, and watched them until the trees hid them from his sight. Odin lay curled up on an old armchair pretending to be asleep, but in reality keeping a suspicious eye on the pair.

It was a glorious day, neither too hot nor too cold, and Richard felt at peace with the world and himself.

"You know Sif," Richard said, "I could get used to this sort of life."

Sif wagged her tail and Odin's eyes seemed to open a little.

"Yes," Richard continued, "there's even something in getting up at the crack of dawn. I never realized before how much time I wasted lying around in bed. Perhaps there's something to be said for country living."

Sif's tail now became a blur of waving fur and Odin's green eyes were wide open, staring at Richard. He stretched and yawned as if to say, "Oh yeah."

"Pagan says she'll teach me to ride, Sif, and then we could...no, that's silly, I'm only here for another week and then it's back to the legal grind."

Sif's tail ceased gyrating and she looked up at Richard with soulful eyes. Odin casually got off the chair and wandered away, his tail in the air in what looked suspiciously like a contemptuous gesture.

Richard looked at the green rolling hills and the distant trees. A cloud went across the sun and a shadow passed across the nearby fields.

Still addressing Sif, Richard continued, "Suppose...just suppose, I decided to give up studying law and...and...no, mum and dad would create hell. I can hear them now; "After all we've done for you, all the money we've spent...ingrate...selfish...we forbid you to..."

Sif lay down, her chin resting on one paw, still looking up sadly at Richard.

"You know Sif," Richard continued, "I've never been given a choice about what I want to do." He shrugged and said, "But I suppose I've never known what I want to do until now."

Sif's tail wagged tentatively.

"But what do I want to do, stay here with Pagan?"

The tail wagged more vigorously.

"Sif, you wouldn't be jealous if I said I was in love with Pagan, would you?"

Sif's tail went into gyrating mode again.

"But how does Pagan feel about me, and how do I know that Pagan would agree to my staying, eh Sif?"

Sif sat up and licked Richard's hand.

"Yes, I think you'll miss me Sif, and...and I'll miss you."

They sat unmoving for a while and then Richard said, "Oh well, no use dreaming. They'll be coming back soon, let's go and get lunch ready.

Man and dog went together to the kitchen.

* * * * * * * *

By the time Pagan and her riders returned lunch, much to her surprise, was ready.

"Mmm, getting domesticated are you?" she said. "I might decide to keep you on as my resident slave."

"Better a thousand years as a slave in the household of Pagan than one hour in a law lecture," Richard grinned.

Pagan looked at him questionably and asked, "Do you really mean that?"

"Well, not literally, but yes, being here with you is far preferable to being in law lectures."

They stood looking at each other for a few moments. Richard felt as if something like a mild electric current passed between them. It was exciting and sexually arousing, but Richard felt it was something more than that. For a couple of seconds he was on the verge of speaking what was on his mind, but then drew back.

He was not so naïve as to think that he could live with such an attractive woman and not eventually seek a sexual relationship with her, especially since she had declared him to be sexy. The fact that she was older than him was for him no barrier; in fact it made the idea of a sexual relationship even more desirable. It was the obstacle of their family blood kinship that stood in their way, even if Pagan did feel the same way about him as he did about her.

If he did stay there with Pagan there were also his parents to contend with. Quite apart from the fact that they would create hell at his giving up the law, they would not be so gullible as to believe that he was living with Pagan in monastic chastity.

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in the shallows and in miseries."

Had Richard remembered from high school those words of Shakespeare's he might have come to a firm resolve at that moment and spoken what was on his mind.

He let the tide pass, and Pagan said, "Well, we'd better eat and then get ready for the afternoon mob."

A solemn silence seemed to descend on them, and even Sif, and Odin who had slunk into the kitchen, seemed to be in lost in thought.

They barely spoke throughout lunch and by the time they had finished the horse renters had arrived. Pagan instructed Richard on what to prepare for dinner and left to attend to her clients.

Throughout the afternoon Richard felt restive. It was as if having spoken his mind, even if it had only been to a dog, he felt that he had somehow committed himself and must act on what he had said, but he didn't know how.

Time seemed to drag. Pagan had taken her afternoon group off in the wood and Richard wandered around the place edgily. He decided to collect some manure but gave up after a few minutes. From there he began painting the last part of the stables, but gave that up too.

He went to the kitchen and following Pagan's instruction commenced the preliminary preparation for their evening meal. Sif had followed him the whole time, her tail drooping as if in sympathy with his mood.

He heard cars approaching – parents coming to collect their horse riding offspring. The sound of voices as the riders returned and then their departure.

It was horse feeding and grooming time.

The return of Pagan did nothing to lighten Richard's mood, in fact her very presence seemed to deepen his gloom.

The thought that beat in his head was that he had one more week with her – one more week in which, despite his earlier doubts about country living, he wanted to extend...extend indefinitely.

Pagan went off to take a shower and on her return she was dressed in the red garment she had worn on their first night together. It was as seductive as ever.

As they ate Pagan talked casually about the day, the behaviour of her clients, opining that most of them were spoilt little darlings, but adding that she appreciated the money their parents paid and, "Perhaps horse riding helped them to overcome some of their puberty blues."

Richard wondered if he took up horse riding it would help him to overcome - not puberty blues – but his Pagan and country life blues.

When they had cleared up after the meal they retired to the lounge where Richard sprawled untidily on an armchair. He had been trying not to look at Pagan throughout the meal because what he would see would only add to his sexual frustration.

Pagan had noted his mood and she said, "You're very introspective Richard, something bothering you?"

He told her only part of the truth.

"I'm thinking about having to go back to law studies."

"And you don't want to?"

"No."

"What do you want to do?"

Again he did not tell her precisely what he wanted to do, but instead said, "Oh, live out in the country somewhere, like you."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes, very sure."

"So what's to stop you?"

Richard laughed harshly and said, "Can you imagine my parents if I told them I wanted to give up law."

There was silence for a couple of minutes and then Pagan said slowly, "Richard, you're not a child anymore, you can make your own decisions about your life. You told me that you'd never been asked what you wanted to do, and that you didn't know anyway, but now you seem to have found out, am I right?"

"Yes, but my parents..."

"Richard," Pagan cut in sharply, "your parents no doubt made a decision for you that they thought best, but it was their decision and not yours. You don't like...you hate studying the law and perhaps that has forced you to consider what you really want."

"They'll talk about the waste and all that sort of thing," Richard objected.

"Nothing like that is ever wasted. You may not take a degree in law, but it doesn't mean that it's been a dead loss, nothing like that ever is."

Richard shrugged, "And what would I do in the country. I haven't got the money to buy a farm, of even a block of land like you've got, and I don't have any skills that are needed in a rural setting."

"You could stay here with me," Pagan said softly.

Richard looked at her. No, he couldn't stay there with her, her physical presence would be too tormenting.

He did not respond to her offer and Pagan seemed to change tack.