Mupps Farm (part one)

The ground was sodden with a mixture of water, blood, manure and moss. Robert felt it all between his toes as he stumbled through the field. He’d be on his way to the bathroom if it wasn’t for his dad Charlie yelling at him to hold up.

 

“Hang on mate” … Charlie was struggling to catch up to Robert, as the young calf was more difficult than he first thought, and it didn’t seem very keen to die.

 

“I have to have a wee,” said Robert with a sense of bladder urgency that can override all other feelings. “ Come on dad, hurry up”

 

“Ok, off you go, tell Sally to come and see me” … Charlie smiled as he continued to drag, coerce, all the while pleading with the calf to follow him up the hill.

 

The house sat on top of the small hill and proudly offered its 360-degree view of the valley that was Mupps Farm in northern NSW. The smallholding yard was next to the “meat hut”, which housed two walk-in cool rooms and ten very large chest freezers. The “meat hut” was just a nickname, as it was actually an approved slaughter, meat processing structure licensed by NSW Food Authority and the local Council. The air conditioning and refrigeration units could have cooled the entire community in Mullimboy. The power for this scar upon the Earth was provided by a bank of solar panels with a backup battery system, cutting edge environmentally friendly technology. As much as it could be while it slaughtered animals. That was another thing that seemed incredibly out of place in Mullimboy.

 

Charlie, the proud son of a sixties hippy took over the family farm when his parents died. The farm was originally a serene place, respecting the Earth and striving to live and leave a minimal footprint philosophy. This had changed with Charlie’s arrival and it became a cover for other activities. The farm had a few operations and young Robert was learning each one as he grew.

 

Sally was Robert’s mother in her role only and she ran a very tight, well fed, organically charged household that basically propped up the facade of the area’s required footprint and image. The image was necessary to hide the more fruitful activities. Roberts real mother Anne was in prison but that revelation was kept from the local community. Drug use, growing and dealing weed were all part of the community’s organic pedigree but even they would be horrified at the reason for Anne’s incarceration.

 

Anne had murdered a family of 4 in 2014. Many would say that the family deserved such an end, but the butchery involved shocked the seasoned Police and forensic officers working the case. The stated defence suggested that Anne was a victim of child abuse by the parents within this family and that the two adult children had conspired to hide the evidence and discredit Anne. This wasn’t quite right, all in the family were responsible for unthinkable things against scores of children. Anne wasn’t one of them.

 

Anne had been in business with her husband Charlie for some 15 years, they killed people. They were very good at their job and blended into the society which remained completely oblivious to the calm almost hippy-like” young couple in their midst. The fact that Anne was caught was very unfortunate and a sheer stroke of blind bad luck. The Police officer who’d witnessed Anne’s actions was simply looking to have a serious kiss and a rambunctious cuddle with his girlfriend when they drove into the laneway behind the row of old million dollar terraces in Paddington. It was 03.30 on a Monday morning, so the chances of anyone seeing a young lady handle a few soggy plastic bags into the back of a van was pretty low. The semi-upright constable and his near-naked girlfriend swung round into the van and their lights caught Anne’s face, the arm that fell out of the van and the number plate of the van. The suddenly deflated officer smacked the car into reveres and while tearing out to block the lane called 000 and sought back up.

 

Needless to say, they arrived very fast and Anne was arrested the following day. She was found in a cheap motel near Sydney’s Central railway station. The media bombardment about the slaughter in Paddington and the woman seen handling a bag of bodies provided her Motel mates with enough energy and inducement to dob her in. They would also be queuing to receive whatever incentives the Police offered such individuals, hookers, meth addicts, homeless mentally ill folks all living the high life in town. Anne was simply trying to hide.

 

Just before he got to the house Robert yelled to his father … “When are you doing the calf?”

 

“In about an hour, I’ll grab you so you can help if you like.” … Charlie yelled back.

“Yeah thanks, Dad”

 

Another skill set that Robert was learning to master, yes he’s only 5 but he’s learning very fast.

 

 

Sally headed down to the smaller “meat hut” holding yard and as per normal, sang today’s favourite tune as she did. It revealed her own lack of any musicality while displaying her appreciation for others. Today’s tune was "Creep" by Radiohead and she belted it out full bore. 

 

“I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo” she screeched out of tune. 

 

“Well, that’s harsh” … suggested Charlie. He had just tied the calf to the holding rail in the clean concrete stock entrance and was walking into the boot room as Sally screamed on in.

 

“What the fuck am I doing here?” .. she continued. Sally was determined to wring any life out of the song she’d allocated to being today’s song status.

 

“Well lover, we’re about the butcher this calf and give Robert another lesson in handling a knife.”

 

Robert had wee’d as much as required, shaken his business, tucked himself back in and proceeded to wash his hands. He knew the importance of such actions, shaking, tucking and washing. He was becoming very good at everything he'd learnt and put his mind to. Today’s knife lesson was a highlight of another boring day at school. 

 

“Fucking hippies, weed soaked numb-nuts" … thought Robert. His so-called peers at Mullimboy’s school were as stimulating as a bag of sand. “Wet sand at that” … said Robert to himself out-loud, adding weight to his deepest held opinion.

 

Robert was driven to school and back each day by Bill, a laid back ex Policeman who fell in love with a young lady he arrested some 10 years ago. Bill had been smitten, he left the Police and subsequently won a Lotto mega draw, a cool 10 million dollars. He married Cathy, bought some buses, two Hyundai people movers and set up an airport, charter company in Mullimboy. It was a tremendous success and Bill and Cathy were incredibly happy. Great house, great wardrobe, top shelf holidays, great business, great sex and when needed some very smooth - great drugs.

 

Bill thought he'd like Robert and his parents, although he didn’t know them other than a wave or a nod in town. Charlie or Sally didn’t drink in the Rose Hotel or eat at Martha’s Cafe. These two places were the major social locations for the town’s folk to mingle, well away from the drug trade and it’s tourist customers. Pensioner motorbike riders, young muppets trying to grow up too quickly, Mums experimenting with their girlfriends, undercover Police from Sydney, Real 1% clubs and holidaying football team types. All sorts of people ended up in the town's other Pubs, Micheal’s Grill and The Fat Cow. That’s where the retail part of the business was conducted, the real business was conducted elsewhere. 

 

Sally had finally run out of lyrics and was quietly waiting for a slippery smooch from her man. Wet lips, calm, cuddle and a squeeze. She was incredibly happy and so was Charlie. He and Anne had agreed that he had to move on, especially for Robert’s sake. Sally was very open to the so-called dark side of Charlie and Anne’s business. Sally was a close friend of Anne but she too was completely unaware of their predilection for murder and other very interesting things prior to the big reveal. In fact not only a taste for murder and other very interesting things but a very successful business satisfying that taste.

 

As fast as he could, while remembering his Dad’s advice, Robert dashed down to the “meat hut”, today’s lesson was to be more knife training. The killing was easy but hiding the method and confusing any investigation was more complicated. They practised on calves for each knife lesson. The resulting meat was portioned, packed as per normal and either hung or frozen depending on the stock-flow at the time. The Mupps Farm butchery in town was successful. The tourists, the drug crowd and the town folk all appreciated the organic principles applied at the farm. They all bought up big, fresh wholesome and well-priced meat would always hit the spot. Of course, there were many vegans, vegetarians and the confused that didn’t like dead animals being eaten but they left the meat eaters alone. 

 

Ad they did Charlie and Sally, but that was for a very different reason.

 

Charlie had sprung to a wide range of professions in his reasonably short life with the skill of a terribly confident man. In some cases, he actually could be considered to be a con man, but really he just knew what buttons existed, where they were and more importantly how to hit them. He could help people of all persuasions proceed with whatever Charlie required. 

 

That could, would, had and be his need for; sex, money, actions, reactions, ignorance, submission, defiance, cooperation. The entire range of human responses all applied when Charlie’s wishes and need required.

 

Sally was a case in point. She worked at a local solicitor’s office and enjoyed a tipple or 5 at Sydney’s Cat & Fiddle, one of Balmain’s top local pubs. She’d be there with her workmates and attracted men of all types and levels of success to her side like moths to a light. The light was her smile, her figure, her exuded sexual vibe and her beautiful personality. She was what could be described as a plus size, she had a décolletage that would win awards should there be such. She wore high pumps, tight stretch dresses with a low cut bust that rocked the world wherever she went. She knew it but was lovely with it. Charlie like every other male exposed to Sally’s “sallyness” was smitten. Anne was as well and between them burst at the seams of social norms trying to organise the threesome that changed everyone’s life. 

 

As time went by a very discrete relationship developed, higher and stronger than the wonderful sex they enjoyed. In fact, this relationship strengthened the company prospects beyond what had been in play prior to Sally’s arrival. The clients loved her, the targets could be easily swayed by her, the money men loved her, so much so that Charlie could leave most of the running of the business to her, while he and Anne did the business. It was a perfect trilogy of talents. Anne’s accidental capture and incarceration dramatically changed the trilogy but with everyone’s agreement, the business became a duo. Anne was a model prisoner and could see her parole hearing trigger getting closer and closer. It was 21 now slashed to 14 and counting.