A COW NAMED LARRY by Rob Lichter, inspired by a title by Russ Lichter



The glass window slid open and the woman behind it called out, “Lawrence Gentoo!”
Larry put down the magazine he was reading and stood up. He walked to the door and nodded at the woman in the window as he passed by. The man at the desk looked tired. He was balding and looked like he hadn’t shaved or slept well in several days. Larry sat down in the worn chair across from the man’s desk.
“Gimme a minute,” said the man, without looking up at Larry. Larry sat patiently as the man shuffled some papers around, making the occasional mark on them as he filed them away. Larry stared intently out the small window. Finally he turned to his computer and clicked on the mouse.
“Lawrence Gentoo?” the man asked, scrolling him mouse lazily on his desk.
“Larry, yes,” he replied.
“Larry,” the man repeated, still looking at the computer monitor. “Well, Larry, I really don’t have anything for you this week. I mean, I’m looking at your file here and I gotta say, you’re not making it easy for yourself. I mean, I can set you up with a law office-“
Larry’s back straightened slightly.
“-but they need someone to organize files…which are below street level and I can see that’s not going to work for you.”
Larry slumped back in his seat.
“Look, Larry,” the man behind the desk sighed, taking his glasses off, “I’m here to help you. But you gotta help me. I can get you any number of temp jobs, but I just can’t guarantee a window for you.”
“I have claustrophobia, Mr. Baumgarten,” Larry said with a tinge of whininess as he instinctively looked out the window again, “You put me in a room with no windows and I’ll walk right out. I can’t help it.”
Mr. Baumgarten looked pityingly at Larry.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah. Well, look, give me your email address and I’ll send you the first thing that comes across my desk that will suit your…situation, OK?” He tore off a page from his yellow pad and pushed it across the desk to Larry. Larry pulled a pencil from the cup on the desk, wrote down his email address, thanked Mr. Baumgarten and went home.
Larry checked his email frequently, but nothing from the temp office came. He called the office a few times to make sure he hadn’t missed any messages from Mr. Baumgarten, but he had not. Larry’s savings were starting to run dry. The bills kept coming. He was going to have to think of something fast.

***
Larry was sitting in his kitchen, staring out the window, when the phone rang. Larry stared at it passively as it rang. He was sure he had stopped paying the phone bill, besides, who really called him anyway? After the fourth ring, he picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. It took him a moment to remember what to do next in this situation.
“Hello?” he finally croaked.
“Larry Gentoo?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Lawrence, yes,” he replied.
“Lawry, it’s Russ Baumgarten….from the employment bureau..”
“Hello,” Larry replied. He felt nervous for some reason. He tried frantically to remember what he was supposed to have done that he didn’t.
“Larry, I’ve been trying to reach you for a week! Don’t you ever check your email? Whatever. Listen, I’ve got something for you. You have a pen or something? Call this number and talk to Dr. Dawes. He’s expecting your call. He’s looking for a professional boanthropist.” He gave the number to Larry, repeated the information and hung up before Larry could ask any details.
Larry sat down in front of his computer and checked his email. There was nothing from the employment office. He scanned down his recent new mail and clicked the SPAM button every time he came across a Canadian Pharmacy ad. Suddenly a thought hit him and he clicked on the SPAM folder. Inside was a collection of emails with the words PHARMACY and OFFER and VIAGRA in the subject line. Also in the SPAM folder was a collection of emails with the words JOB OFFER and CALL ME in the subject line. Whoops.
Larry picked up the phone and called the number written on his hand. The phone rang exactly once before a woman’s voice announced, “PsychologicalServicesCenterhowcanIdirectyourcall.”
Larry gave Dr. Dawes name and he was put on hold. A moment later he was put on the line with a man who introduced himself as Dr. David Dawes. Dr. Dawes asked Larry if he was, indeed, a boanthropist. Larry was about to ask what a boanthropist was, but his eyes caught the pile of unopened bills. “Yes,” he said and Dr. Dawes, delighted, asked him to come in the following morning.

***

The glass door opened and the woman asked to the room, “Lawrence Gentoo?”
Larry put down the journal he was reading and stood up. He silently walked to the door and followed the woman into a long hallway. They walked and walked, turning corners, passing doors and staircases. They finally reached the end of the hallway and stopped at a large door marked EXIT. The woman pushed on the door handle and Larry was introduced to a beautiful expanse of lush, green grass on a rolling hill.
“Make yourself at home,” chirped the woman and closed the door behind her, leaving Larry alone with his meadow. He looked around, but could find no landmarks or machinery, nor any other reason for him to be here. He turned to the large, brick building and reached for the door before realizing there was no handle. He looked up the wall and saw no windows. He looked to his left and saw a large, barbed wire fence leading away from the end of the building and off into the distance. He looked to the right and saw the same thing.
Larry leaned against the wall, cooled by the shade of the building, and waited. As the day went on the sun moved away from the building and directly above, leaving no shade to hide in. Larry began to sweat in the sun. He tried banging on the door a couple times, but nobody seemed to hear him. Larry looked at his watch, only to realize he had forgotten to wear one today. Frustrated and hot, he peeled off his shirt, shoes and socks and began to wander the area. The sun felt good on his face, actually. The grass was cool and soft on his feet and it tickled his ankles. He lied down on the grass and let its coolness relax him. He fell asleep, smiling.

He woke up slowly, refreshed but disoriented. Yawning, he looked up to the sky. The sun had returned to hiding behind the brick wall from which he had emerged…when? Judging from the sky, he had slept through all of yesterday and last night. He estimated it was 5:00 or 6:00 AM. He looked around, but still saw no signs of human life. Flies buzzed lazily by his head and he absently waved them away. He stood up and ambled toward the door. As he got closer, he noticed two long buckets against the wall. One of them was filled with clear water and the other, corn and other grains on a bed of hay. He bent down to sniff the water. It smelled sweet and clean. He looked around, but still saw no one. He dipped his hand into the water and brought it to his mouth. He slurped and lapped at the water cupped in his hand, which suddenly made him extremely thirsty. He knelt down, glanced around self-consciously and put his face into the water. He drank greedily. When he had had his fill, he looked at the other bucket. He reached in, grabbed a hunk of corn, smelled it and began to eat. He continued to eat his corn as he wandered the grounds. He approached the edge of the building and peered over the barbed-wire fence. More grassy land, though slightly less lush. When his corn had been stripped of all its edibles, he looked stupidly around for a trash can. Finding none, he tossed it over the fence and ambled back to the buckets. He grabbed another cob and walked the other direction, to the other fence. Looking over that fence revealed nothing other than more browning grass as far as the eye could see. Larry tossed his second corn and went back for another drink.
By midday, he had shed all of his clothes. The sensation of the warm sun and cool grass on his body had overpowered any sense of shame he might have had. Besides, there was nobody around. He spent his second day between the two buckets, alternating between handfuls of dry grains and dunking his head in the water. He thought about banging on the door again. After all, someone had obviously been here to supply him with food and water; they must be entering and exiting somehow. He thought of it, yes. He thought of leaving the field, of driving back home, of sitting in his dark apartment, wondering how he was going to pay his bills. He thought of these things as he munched on his barley and stared into the bright blue sky. He slept.

***
He awoke to find himself standing up in the middle of the meadow. He lost his balance as he came to, not expecting to find himself positioned so. He looked up at the sky and saw the sun. He tried to determine the time based on the sun’s position, but found it too difficult. Anyway, he didn’t really care. He lumbered lazily to the buckets and found them to be refreshed. The water was a little dirty, but still totally drinkable. The bucket of grains had a few carrots cut up into it and some other vegetable he couldn’t identify. He ate lazily and then wandered into the distance a bit. He sat, staring at the ground. He realized he was still chewing. The carrots and barley sat in his mouth, an oatmeal-like slurry. He swallowed and picked at the grass as he thought about nothing in particular. A short while later he realized he was chewing on a mouthful of grass, with no memory of how it got there. He stopped chewing and allowed himself to taste it. It was kind of sweet and juicy. With a mental shrug, he continued to chew.

***
Larry was eating out of the food bucket. His long beard had bits of grains and seeds tangled in it. His palms and knees were green with grass stain. He shook his head impatiently as large flies buzzed incessantly around him. He had no memory of how he had come to this place, nor had he any memory of his life before this place.
The door opened, making a high, chittering sound. The tall person came out of it with his long white skin flapping around him. There was another person with him, but his skin was different. It had many colors. The white skinned man disappeared inside the door. The color skinned man looked at Larry. Larry moaned it him, open mouthed, and returned to his food bucket.