The Real Story of Bo Peep
She found more than just her sheep that day.
*
Author
'
s Note
If you are a regular reader, you know that I enjoy slice of life stories and the occasional twisted fairy tale. This is a combination of both, but this time I'm giving the treatment to a nursery rhyme.
Ever wonder what happened between the time that Bo Peep lost her sheep and the time that they somehow, inexplicably came home again? Read on to find out.
Enjoy,
WaxPhilosophic
*
Prologue
Little Bo Peep, she lost her sheep.
I assure you that much is true.
But where history fails, is in the rest of the tale,
And exactly what she decided to do.
Sheep don't just come back, for it's brains they lack,
and the good sense to realize their folly.
So Bo Peep she did roam, to bring them back home,
Locking the gate this time, by golly.
Though daydreaming, it seems, corrupts the wisest of schemes,
causing a shepherdess's eyelids to droop.
And while Peep did snore, eyeing the flock no more,
the sheep again flew the coop.
*
Little Bo Peep
"You're fucked."
"I'm not asking your opinion, Anna," Peep said. "I'm asking you to help me find them."
"Nope," her little sister replied. "You're fucked. Mom and Dad are going to disown you. You might as well start packing now. Save yourself the disgrace and leave before they get home from work."
"You're not helping."
"The circus is hiring. I saw a poster in town."
Peep grumbled.
Anna cupped her hand to her ear. "Oh, is that the garage door I hear? Dad's home early."
Peep snatched up her crook and her cloak and ran for the door to the back patio.
"Peep, honey," Father called. "I heard what happened, and I think the best course of action is to file a police report saying a wolf was responsible. I know it's not entirely honest, but at least we can put in an insurance claim to—"
Father stopped and set his briefcase down. "Anna, where's your sister?"
Anna just shrugged.
* * *
Bo Peep shuffled along the side of the road leading out of town, her head down, kicking a stray piece of gravel now and then. Her calls to her flock continued, but became less enthusiastic the farther she went. To make matters worse, a thick blanket of cloud was closing in overhead.
By and by, Peep met up with a hunter, or so she thought, judging by the AR-15 rifle slung over his shoulder and the numerous clips of ammunition jammed into every pocket of his camouflaged vest.
"Hey there, darlin'" he called. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, mighty hunter," Peep wailed. "I've lost my flock. Would you be so kind as to use your tracking skills to help me find them."
"Tracking... uh... sure, thing," he said, grinning. "I can help you track them critters down."
"Thank you, kind sir."
"Yeah, sure. But maybe we ought to discuss some kind of payment in exchange for me... uh... tracking these wiley critters for you."
"Are you not a noble hunter, willing to help those in need?"
"Well, uh, sure I am." The man reached around to scratch the back of his neck. "But you know... times is tough and we all got needs."
"Of course," said Peep, "I have no money to offer, but once the flock is recovered, I'm sure—"
"No money, eh?" The man drew closer to Bo Peep and raised his hand to finger the tie on her cloak. "Well, that's okay, darlin'. I'm sure you've got somethin'—"
"Please take your hand off of me."
"Now listen here, darlin'" he drawled. "You need to find those sheep and you ain't got no money, so I was thinkin'..."
The man slipped his arm around Peep's waist and pulled her in close. She caught the stale stink of elderberry wine on his breath and squirmed.
"Let's not make this difficult, sugar. I just want—"
The man never got a chance to finish. Bo Peep brought her heel down hard on his toe and slipped his grip while he was hopping around on one foot.
"That wasn't very ladylike," he slurred and started toward her again.
Peep answered with a shepherd's crook to the crotch and a swift uppercut to the jaw while he was bent over.
"You're gonna pay for—"
"Don't think so," said Peep, and brought the crook down hard against the back of the man's skull. There was a crunch of bone and the man collapsed like a rag doll.
"Don't fuck with me," Peep spat. "I've had a bad day."
Just then, the clouds opened up and began to pour rain. Bo Peep pulled up the hood of her cloak and trudged down the road.
* * *
By and by, Bo Peep met up with a motorcycle rider who nearly ran her off the road, splashing her cloak with rain water upon passing. Peep cursed her luck. She had given up hope of ever finding her flock.
In the distance, Peep witnessed the motorcycle rider turning around and heading back in her direction. Peep looked for a suitable escape route, but the land was flat all around and the fields, now muddy, would only slow her down if she left the road. Bo Peep again gripped her shepherd's crook.
The motorcycle came upon her slowly. Peep took up a wide stance, putting most of her weight on her right foot behind her. Her fingers curled tightly against the crook.
The black-clad motorcycle rider reached up and flipped the helmet's visor. To Peep's surprise, there was a woman's face behind the smoke-colored screen.
"Sorry about that," the woman said. "With the weather, I didn't see you 'til it was too late."
Peep said nothing.
"I'm happy to pay the cleaning bill on your cloak. Looks like I got it pretty good."
"Don't bother. It's machine washable."
"Okay. Still I feel bad. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or a bite to eat?"
Peep shook her head.
"Maybe a ride to the next town? Where are you off to, anyway?"
"I'm joining the circus," Peep said, and began walking again.
The woman on the bike dropped it into low gear and began following along, her hand slipping the clutch and toes touching the ground now and then to keep the machine upright at such a low speed. All the while the engine made a distinctive, irregular popping sound as it idled along.
Peep grinned.
"What's so humorous?" the woman on the motorcycle said.
"You're engine. It sounds like it's talking. Like it's saying, 'Potato, potato. Potato, potato.' It's funny."
"It's a Harley. That's the way they sound."
Peep paused in her tracks. She had heard tell of these Harley-Davidson machines from a far away land, and the women who rode them. She had never seen either up close.
"Does you offer of a ride to the next town still stand, masked rider?" Peep asked.
The motorcyclist nodded.
"You got an extra helmet?"
The woman on the bike reached up and unstrapped her own helmet, revealing a headful of short and spiky blonde hair and a strong jawline that nearly made Peep swoon, though she was not entirely sure why she should feel this way. Perhaps she did need a bite to eat.
"Hop on," the Harley woman said, holding the helmet out toward Peep.
Peep strapped on the helmet and took the woman's hand to climb aboard.
"I'm Rae," the woman said.
"Peep."
"Pleased to meet you, Peep. You mind reaching into the right side saddlebag? There's a pair of goggles in there."
Bo Peep rummaged around briefly and found them.
"Thanks. Hang on tight, okay?"
Peep did, and the duo rumbled down the road, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed. Peep buried her head in the woman's leather jacket to keep the rain from beating at her face. She inhaled the heady scent of freshly oiled leather and reveled in the warmth of Rae's body heat radiating through.
So satisfying was this new arrangement, that Peep took to daydreaming once again. I her dream, the flock had found their way home again, but not entirely on their own. Coming up behind them was Rae on her motorbike that called out, 'potato, potato,' as she herded the stray sheep back into the pen.
Peep smiled.