There were certainly times when he wished that he could go back to being just "Melvin". Things were much simpler back when he was younger. According to his mother's accounts, he was named after his father, which would technically have made him Melvin Jr, but he didn't mind the fact that most people didn't know that. Maybe it would have been different if he had known his dad, but he had no memory of him at all, not even fleeting ones. When he was very young, his mother would tell him that he looked just like his father, but strangely this included both before and after he grew his horns. When his hair was short, he looked like his dad, but the same was true when his hair was long. Sometimes, Melvin wondered if his mother had really known his father or if it was a one night stand or something more tawdry.
In any case, Melvin had always been a "mama's boy" growing up. He lived with his mom in a small dusty stall that she rented from one of the local farmers. It wasn't much but it kept the rain out, unless you made the mistake of sleeping in the north east corner, and even the minimal straw was better than the cold ground when it came time to sleep. It was a little small, probably six feet by four feet, but at least it had a yard. In the spring time, they even had a view of some grass off in the distance. Legend was that there used to be grass in their stall, but that was years ago if at all. The neighborhood was okay too, although it could be a little loud. It must have been a pretty sprawling housing area, because when he looked left and right, he could see other goats in their little yards. Occasionally he could hear his mother talking to them but he couldn't make out what they were saying. It was almost like it was a different goat dialect and she would never answer his questions about those conversations.
Melvin often wondered how his mom made the money for rent. When he woke up, she was often gone and the time of her return varied. The best that he could glean was that she worked for the farmer in some capacity. He wished that she would teach him more about her job so that he would have a skill of his own, but she would always find a way to change the topic and since she was normally tired, he didn't press her on it.
Melvin loved his mom. She had always tried so hard to take care of him and more than anything else, it was the memory of her face that he clung to when the hardships associated with his multiple personalities threaten to destroy him. He wished he knew where she was and how she was doing. The last time he had seen her was when he was only three (Author's note: Goats calculate their age in month's and not years as this forces them to focus more on life's passage).
(To be continued)
