HOME | DD

Description

And on the eighth day, God created Tractor Angel and gave him the highest honor he could ever bestow upon another.

“My son,” Quoteth He. “I have created many beings in the hopes of finding one fit to rule my most prized possession. Tractor Angel, you have been carefully selected for the honor of being seated on the high throne of farming.”

And there was peace.

And it was beautiful.

- The Book of Chuck, Parable of the Tractor Angel

He hasn’t said much the entire ride. Maybe his vessel is mute, but it’s more likely that he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Every single thing you’ve said has been answered with silence, a grunt, or rev of his tractor engine. The tractor in question has been emitting noxious fumes the entire trip, and you’ve been riding on the front of the thing right next to the exhaust pipe. Your butt has been subjected to the vibrations of the motor for two hours, and the roughness of the ride requires that you keep a tight grip on whatever you can easily grab whenever the tires hit a bump in the road. Then again, you don’t really have room to complain. He is giving you a ride all the way to New York because you both have a common goal, and one that makes you rivals at that.

  “So,” You make another go at a conversation. “How’s the vessel?”

  Tractor Angel – you’ve chosen to call him this for lack of a better name; he hasn’t given you his real one – only readjusts his cap and keeps driving. Both of you are angels that were expelled from Heaven months ago. Only a matter of hours ago, Dean Winchester sent out a prayer to any angel ‘with their ears on’ as he put it, stating that he would owe a favor to the angel who came and saved his brother. It was fortunate that you had come across Tractor Angel before he’d left his farm because you had been without transportation.

  “Is it true what they say about Dean being Michael’s vessel?”

  A grunt.

  “Do you really think Castiel played a part in expelling everyone from Heaven?”

  Nothing.

  “Do you think we’ll get to New York before anyone else? I don’t think either of us is really in the best shape to be brawling over who gets to save Sam Winchester.”

  He sniffs.

  “Do you possess the ability to speak?”

  He just looks at you.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” You cast your gaze out on the wide open fields used for agriculture.

  Some of the fields are lined with watering systems, and on the horizon you occasionally see an oil drill or a pair of towering windmills. It’s the same thing you’ve been seeing the whole ride and, quite honestly, it got old after the first twenty minutes. Eventually, you start asking questions again.

  “What kind of stuff do you farm? I thought I saw some bean plants but I’m not a plant expert.”

  He turns left on a crossroads.

  “I heard this thing about beans and corn. If I remember correctly, one of them takes the good stuff out of the dirt, so you have to plant the other one in the same place after a while because it puts the good stuff back in.”

  “You talk a lot.”

  You raise an eyebrow when he speaks, slightly surprised.

  “He speaks! For a while there I didn’t think you knew how to talk!”

  But the moment is over. He’s put his attention back on the road. You sigh. This is going to be a long trip.

Description

And on the eighth day, God created Tractor Angel and gave him the highest honor he could ever bestow upon another.

“My son,” Quoteth He. “I have created many beings in the hopes of finding one fit to rule my most prized possession. Tractor Angel, you have been carefully selected for the honor of being seated on the high throne of farming.”

And there was peace.

And it was beautiful.

- The Book of Chuck, Parable of the Tractor Angel

He hasn’t said much the entire ride. Maybe his vessel is mute, but it’s more likely that he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Every single thing you’ve said has been answered with silence, a grunt, or rev of his tractor engine. The tractor in question has been emitting noxious fumes the entire trip, and you’ve been riding on the front of the thing right next to the exhaust pipe. Your butt has been subjected to the vibrations of the motor for two hours, and the roughness of the ride requires that you keep a tight grip on whatever you can easily grab whenever the tires hit a bump in the road. Then again, you don’t really have room to complain. He is giving you a ride all the way to New York because you both have a common goal, and one that makes you rivals at that.

  “So,” You make another go at a conversation. “How’s the vessel?”

  Tractor Angel – you’ve chosen to call him this for lack of a better name; he hasn’t given you his real one – only readjusts his cap and keeps driving. Both of you are angels that were expelled from Heaven months ago. Only a matter of hours ago, Dean Winchester sent out a prayer to any angel ‘with their ears on’ as he put it, stating that he would owe a favor to the angel who came and saved his brother. It was fortunate that you had come across Tractor Angel before he’d left his farm because you had been without transportation.

  “Is it true what they say about Dean being Michael’s vessel?”

  A grunt.

  “Do you really think Castiel played a part in expelling everyone from Heaven?”

  Nothing.

  “Do you think we’ll get to New York before anyone else? I don’t think either of us is really in the best shape to be brawling over who gets to save Sam Winchester.”

  He sniffs.

  “Do you possess the ability to speak?”

  He just looks at you.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” You cast your gaze out on the wide open fields used for agriculture.

  Some of the fields are lined with watering systems, and on the horizon you occasionally see an oil drill or a pair of towering windmills. It’s the same thing you’ve been seeing the whole ride and, quite honestly, it got old after the first twenty minutes. Eventually, you start asking questions again.

  “What kind of stuff do you farm? I thought I saw some bean plants but I’m not a plant expert.”

  He turns left on a crossroads.

  “I heard this thing about beans and corn. If I remember correctly, one of them takes the good stuff out of the dirt, so you have to plant the other one in the same place after a while because it puts the good stuff back in.”

  “You talk a lot.”

  You raise an eyebrow when he speaks, slightly surprised.

  “He speaks! For a while there I didn’t think you knew how to talk!”

  But the moment is over. He’s put his attention back on the road. You sigh. This is going to be a long trip.