Born and Raised

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Born and Raised Page 3

by R A Doty


  “You wanna try?” Calla asked.

  April nodded, and Calla handed her the nozzle. When April squeezed the handle the pressure pushed back her hand, and a stream of water sprayed into the air directly above her and Calla. Calla shrieked with her hands over her head, and April dropped the nozzle and backed away.

  “It’s okay,” Calla said, bending down to grab the hose. “Here, try again.”

  April took the nozzle and held it forward in outstretched arms. Calla stood behind her and placed her hand over April’s. Together they squeezed the handle, directing the stream of water at the floor. April smiled.

  Calla released her hand and stepped away as April sprayed the floor in a perfect geometric pattern ensuring that every inch of concrete had been cleaned and the water directed onto the grass.

  The other nutrimen began to wander from their pens, and some stood beside April, confused as to what she was doing. April handed the hose to a male, slightly older than she, who spun it in a circle trying to make the water come out. After a few failed attempts, April placed his hand on the nozzle and squeezed his fingers until the water appeared. When the boy began to spray the water without her help, she walked over to one of the cubes and sat on top, seemingly bored.

  Calla walked up to the boy. “You remind me of a character in one of my favorite books.”

  The boy stopped spraying and stared at Calla. He had never been spoken to and became frightened hearing the sound of her voice directed toward him.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” Calla said. She pointed to the hose. “You can play with it.”

  The boy looked at the shiny object in his hand and then at Calla. He squeezed it again and the water appeared. He smiled.

  “I like you,” Calla said, reaching for the nozzle. The boy handed it to her. “I think I’ll name you Manolin.” With her hand under her chin, Calla studied the boy’s face. “You’re bigger than I picture the boy in my book, and definitely more muscular, but yes, Manolin is perfect.”

  As Calla wrapped up the hose and hung it on the wall, April noticed the rectangular object that Calla sometimes tapped with her hand, sitting on a counter in the utility room. She rushed to the object and tapped it in the way Calla did when she sat under the tree, but nothing happened. She spun the devise around and studied it from every angle.

  “How’d you get that?” Calla said, grabbing the tablet.

  April watched as the devise illuminated when Calla tapped it three times right in the center.

  Once Calla was convinced April did no harm to the tablet, she slipped it into her bag and went back to work.

  ONCE HER DUTIES WERE completed, Calla stood in the middle of the yard with her hands on her hips. She wondered if she had forgotten anything before leaving the kennel. “Oh yeah,” she said, and walked to the utility room. She re-appeared with her leather bag and walked over to April, who was sitting on one of the cubes.

  “Okay, April, I’m all done, so I’ll see you a little later this afternoon.”

  She then turned to the boy, who was sitting under a spot of shade cast on the concrete from the shadow of the tree. “Goodbye, Manolin.”

  “Manolin,” April whispered, as Calla left the yard.

  When Calla’s footsteps could no longer be heard in the hallway, April reached inside the concrete cube and pulled out Calla’s tablet. She tapped the center three times and the screen brightened. She slid her finger over the smooth surface and tapped a red circle with a shape she didn’t recognize in the center. The tablet vibrated with sound and the other nutrimen turned in her direction. When she tapped the surface to make it stop, a horizontal line appeared on the screen. She rubbed her finger, right to left, over the line and the sound quieted. She rubbed it back to the right and the sound increased. She couldn’t understand why, but the noises coming from the tablet made her smile. She unconsciously began to nod her head. The others surrounded her and stared at the bright object she held in her hand.

  The remainder of the day was spent in her pen, lying on her bunk, with the tablet pulled close to her face. Distant locations became known to her, with beautiful landscapes of mountains, deserts, and oceans. World events flashed upon the tablet with stories about impoverished people from all walks of life on the brink of starvation. Children appeared, filthy and sullen, with oversized eyes—black and teary. Large cities aglow with yellow and orange flames burning bright against mountains of human corpses seemingly alive with the movement of large black birds. People killing people with guns, bricks, knives, and sometimes bare hands—all vividly projected to an audience starving for reality and violence.

  By the end of the day, after examining just a hint of what the tablet could teach her, April heard footsteps out in the hallway, growing louder as they neared. When the kennel door opened, she stuffed the tablet under her mattress and hurried to the yard, where Calla seemed to be searching for something.

  After walking the perimeter of the fence, Calla rushed into the utility room. She reappeared seconds later. “I can’t imagine where I left it.” With her hands on her hips, she scanned everything in sight, and then headed for the pens. She walked form one pen to another, removing the bedding from the bunks and searching the floor area. The nutrimen scurried from her path. April snuck back into her pen and sat on her bunk. She smiled when Calla arrived.

  “Hi, April,” Calla said. “You haven’t seen my tablet, have you?” Calla stood in the center of the floor, looking around the pen. She walked toward the bunk and considered ripping it apart, but decided against it as she stared at April. “I suppose that wouldn’t be such a stupid question if you could actually talk and understand what I’m saying.”

  April lowered her head.

  Convinced that she didn’t leave the tablet in the kennel, Calla left the yard and came back minutes later to perform the daily ritual of feeding the nutrimen. When the last meal was placed into the pen, she collected her belongings and headed home to continue searching for her tablet.

  April stood at the fence and watched as Calla walked away on the sidewalk. When Calla was far too far to hear, she said in a clear voice,

  “Yes, Calla. I have seen your tablet.”

  HOURS LATER, AS THE other nutrimen lay asleep in dark pens, April sat on her bunk with the glow of Calla’s tablet shining on her face. Her fingers skillfully traversed the smooth surface and tapped at the many colorful shapes, each opening a world filled with wonderment. Pictures appeared of things she’d never seen, and she memorized sounds she’d never heard. When a full moon against a black sky appeared on the screen, she looked out at the stars twinkling over the yard. Moon. When a human skeleton appeared on the tablet, she examined the location of each bone and slid her hand across her body in the corresponding vicinity.

  Many strange people appeared with unusual colored skin and spoke in languages that did not sound the way Calla spoke. She mimicked the sounds they made and studied their actions before moving on, eager to see what was next. Colors flashed, music played, more people appeared and vanished, strange creatures took shape, and then she found herself staring down at a three dimensional image of the earth. Her hand caressed the image, each finger examining the separation of colors—land against sea. She placed the tablet on her mattress, walked out into the yard and stopped at the fence. She gripped the wire and squeezed it tight, staring into the darkness.

  APRIL SPENT EACH NIGHT for the next two months lying on her bunk with the tablet in front of her. Initially, she noticed the screen becoming dimmer, so it didn’t take her long to realize the tablet was powered by a battery source that could be charged in the sunlight. Whenever she had the opportunity, she brought it to the yard during the daytime when Calla wasn’t around and recharged the battery as much as possible. She learned to easily control every possible task it had to offer and memorized nearly all the information presented to her. Her brain was like a sponge, absorbing everything passing before her eyes with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Only a select few, during the histo
ry of mankind, had the intelligence that she possessed, but it seemed to lay dormant until finding the tablet. With each new culture she learned about, she made it a priority to not only speak their language fluently, but to understand it. When the rest of Ancada slept, a small girl could be heard practicing foreign languages from the confines of her pen. The world was no longer a mystery.

  And then she came to a file that had Calla’s picture under the word, Journal. She tapped the file, and a text box appeared asking for a password. She entered CALLA, but the file wouldn’t open. She then entered the word JOURNAL, but it still did not open. After several more failed attempts, she realized the possibilities were endless and gave up.

  Chapter Five

  DRIFTWOOD CLUTTERED the beach as the tide crept up to the shoreline to deposit more debris before retreating back to the ocean. A flock of seagulls squawked over the remains of a sturgeon that had washed upon the shore, and high in the sky a bald eagle soared through a cloud. When the eagle noticed the gulls it closed its wings and dived in their direction. The gulls scattered when it landed on the fish’s carcass. When movement emerged from the wood-line, the eagle ripped a chunk of flesh from the large fish and flew back to the sky.

  Five people stepped onto the beach and headed south: two men—one stocky and the other thin, one boy—slightly taller than both men, and a woman holding the hand of a small girl. A doll with no clothes swung from the girl’s hand. The smaller man and the boy were each gripping a log attached to what looked like a raft. The boy dropped his side of the raft and ran up to the fish, hoping the scavengers left something worth eating, but the sight of the maggots and flies stopped him in his tracks. He walked back and grabbed the log.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from,” the larger of the two men said, noticing the disappointment on the boy’s face. He held up a walking stick and pointed down the beach. “The house I was talking about, Samuel, is just up around the corner.”

  Two deep ruts dug into the sand behind Samuel and his son as they dragged the raft holding most of their possessions behind them. “Let’s stop for a breather,” Samuel said. He dropped the raft and walked up to the edge of the water. Heavy deep breaths escaped his mouth as he stared out across the ocean. “What do you suppose that is?” he said, his hand shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. Distant skyscrapers shimmered in the sunlight from far away in the ocean.

  “That, my friend, is Ancada,” Cole said. Another place you’d be wise to steer clear of.”

  Elana Thorpe picked up her daughter and propped her onto her hip. She and her family stared at the glistening world of glass growing out of the water. “It looks as though it would be a safe place to live,” she said.

  Cole jammed his stick into the sand and rested his arm on top as he joined the Thorpes in admiring Ancada. “Looks can be deceiving.”

  Elana turned toward him. “You’ve been there?”

  “I used to live there a long time ago before it became what it is.”

  “What is it?” Stevie said, walking closer to the water.

  “It’s a world where time never stopped, and its people went on with their lives as if nothing ever happened. An island paradise that’s sheltered from the realities of the mainland and the struggles we face everyday to survive. But behind that alluring facade lies a dark secret.”

  Stevie stared across the ocean at the mysterious city. He tried to imagine what life must be like in a world where food isn’t a luxury and shelter is more than a damp cave. He imagined warm blankets, having a full stomach at the end of each meal, clean clothes that weren’t tattered, and the feel of hot water to bathe in. And maybe even girls his age. He wanted more than anything to walk the streets of this strange, magnificent city.

  Cole placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Listen to me, son. It’s not what you think. Unspeakable sins occur out there, and a man would be wise to keep as much distance between himself and that place as possible. I know you’re young and full of curiosity, but you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”

  Stevie faced Cole. “And what about here? Have you looked around lately? What about the unspeakable sins that surround us everyday?”

  “Steven, show respect,” his mother said. “Mr. North is just trying to help.”

  “No, it’s alright, ma’am,” Cole said. “Let him speak his mind.”

  Stevie continued. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up in the morning and see you’re little sister shivering on the ground of a cave? Or to know she’s survived for days on end by eating only a grub or a beetle? Or to see the worry behind your mother’s eyes as she wonders if her children are gonna survive for just one more day?” Stevie looked toward Ancada. “I wonder if any of those people out there ever experienced anything like that, Mr. North.”

  Samuel walked back to the raft and grabbed the log. “We’d better get moving if we’re to make it before nightfall.”

  Cole plucked his stick from the sand and continued down the beach. Stevie stared out across the ocean for a few more seconds before joining his father.

  COLE WAS THE FIRST to spot the cottage. It was just as he remembered. A weathered picket fence at the edge of a knoll separated the yard from the beach—its gate hanging by one hinge; a flagstone path—nearly concealed by years of drifting sand—stretched toward the front door of the house directly behind the gate; and the structure itself: a one story saltbox with faded white horizontal siding covering the walls and yellow cedar shakes adorning the gable ends. The door was painted red. “There it is,” Cole said, his arm propped onto his walking stick.

  When Elana rounded the corner and saw the house sitting on top of the knoll, she raised her hand to her mouth. Some of the windows were broken with many of their shutters lying on the ground and saplings were growing from the rusted gutters. It was beautiful and more than she had hoped for. Tears welled in her eyes as she continued toward her family’s new home.

  Samuel and Stevie dropped the raft at the start of a set of stone steps ascending toward the gate. Already at the top of the steps, Elana held her daughter’s hand and followed Cole down the path toward the house. When Cole neared the front door, he motioned for her to hang back. He’d come across a lot of houses in the past that he assumed were vacant, only to discover less-than-neighborly inhabitants who were more than willing to do whatever it took to protect what was theirs.

  Cole peeked through one of the windows, his hand rubbing away a circle of dirt. Judging by the sight of a tan couch and a floral patterned chair, he assumed he was looking into the living room. Emptied brown bottles, layered with dust, covered the surface of a coffee table, but nothing looked as though the dwelling was recently inhabited. He walked to the front door and turned the knob. It was unlocked. The hinges creaked as he slowly pushed the door open. “Hello. Is anyone here?” The house was silent except for a breeze whistling through one of the broken windows. “It’s okay,” he said to Elana, who slowly followed as he walked into the house.

  As Jessie walked next to her mother, she immediately noticed a brown teddy bear sitting in a small chair beside a stone fireplace. She ran toward it.

  “Jessie, wait,” her mother yelled, but the girl had already reached the bear and grabbed it from the chair.

  “Look, Mommy!” Jessie said, extended the toy to her mother.

  Elana walked to her daughter and retrieved the bear. “Honey, you have to be careful.” She inspected it carefully before handing it back. “He’s beautiful. Are you gonna give him a name?”

  “Walter,” Jessie said with a giggle.

  “That’s a wonderful name, honey. Why don’t you sit in Walter’s chair while we look around.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Samuel walked through the door with Stevie close behind.

  Elana rushed toward them. “Isn’t it wonderful, Sam?” She grabbed her husband’s arm. “Come on, let’s look around.”

  It’s been a long time since Sam has seen his wife happy. He smiled at
her excitement as she dragged him from room to room. After they inspected the three bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a screened-in porch on the rear of the cottage, they convened back in the living room.

  “I love it,” Elana said. “I know it needs some work and a lot of cleaning, but we can get it back in shape in no time. I found some pots and pans in the cabinets along with some cups, plates and silverware.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Cole,” Samuel said.

  “Yes, thank you so much,” Elana agreed.

  Samuel continued. “It’s been quite a while since we’ve had a place to call home.”

  “No need to thank me,” Cole said.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay here with us,” Samuel said. “There’s plenty of room.”

  “I might just take you up on that, my friend. At least until we get the place fixed up a bit. I think the first thing we need to do is take that old couch outside to beat the dust out of it so we can have a seat.”

  “Let’s get on it then,” Samuel said. “You grab that end Stevie, and I’ll take this side.”

  Samuel and Stevie carried the couch out the front door, and Cole dragged the chair. A cloud of dust surrounded the cottage as they beat the upholstery with sticks. Jessie sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room with Walter on her lap as her mother went from room to room cleaning everything in sight with pails of water she got from the ocean. Before the sun vanished behind the dark blue waves of the ocean, the interior of the cottage was transformed back into a home, complete with a crackling fire in the fireplace.

  Cole sat in the chair, while Samuel and his wife sat next to each other on one end of the couch, with Stevie on the other. Jessie sat in front of the fireplace holding Walter, with the glow of the flames bouncing off her face.

 

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