Born and Raised

by R A Doty

  “I was already outside today. I visited Daddy’s grave. Why did he leave us, Mommy?”

  A hard lump formed in Elana’s throat. She couldn’t think of a worse conversation to have with her daughter. There were at least a dozen reasons she could come up with to explain why Daddy was gone, but they’d all be lies. She couldn’t possibly tell her child that her father was murdered because somebody wanted what he had. Or could she? Maybe she should tell her the truth. She looked at her daughter’s face—so tender and innocent. She had her father’s eyes. “Come here, Jessie.” Elana patted the couch cushion. “Come sit by Mommy.”

  Jessie lowered the book and slid her legs off the chair until they eventually reached the floor. With Walter gripped in her hand and dangling by her side, she ran over to her mother and climbed on the couch.

  Elana tucked her under her arm. She kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. It was so soft against her callused hands she could barely feel it. “Honey, I want to be able to tell you that God took Daddy to heaven, and that he’s up there somewhere looking down on us right now, but I can’t do that. Daddy’s gone and he’s never coming back. If you’re to have any chance at all of surviving you need to know the truth, and the truth is that there is no God or heaven.” Anger fueled Elana’s words, and the more she thought about the thousands upon thousands of innocent people facing unimaginable deaths, the louder she spoke. “If there were a God he would never allow such suffering in a world He created—a world where children, such as you, go without basic necessities like milk. You can’t be weak and believe in fairy tales any longer. You have to know the truth, and the truth is that a terrible man killed Daddy because he wanted what your father had. When you grow up you must always remember never to trust anyone. Ever.” Elana neared her daughter’s face and made eye contact. “Do you understand, honey?”

  Jessie nodded, but she didn’t understand. She wasn’t capable of understanding. All she heard was that her father was gone, and he was never coming back. Her lips pouted and her eyes filled with tears. She began to cry.

  Elana pulled her closer. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to be so cruel. I just want what’s best for you, and sometimes what you wanna hear isn’t always what’s best.” As she comforted her daughter, she stared at the ocean through the window. Waves pounded against an outcropping of rock and splashed high into the air. There must be a storm coming, she thought. She turned to kiss her daughter’s head, and when she looked back the ocean was calm. Not even the smallest wave climbed the sandy beach. What she saw next made her prop Jessie against the arm of the couch and rush outside. “I can’t believe it,” she said, watching a dairy cow walk up to the house. It stopped in the yard and began to chew on the tall grass that was once the lawn in an earlier point in time. Elana tilted her head back and stared at the sky. A chill raced through her body. “Thank you,” she said.

  JOSH AND STEVEN STARTED everyday with the same routine. After eating breakfast, they grabbed their fishing gear and headed to the ocean to catch more fish. With the colder winter months fast approaching, they needed to stock up on as much food as they could. And thanks to the smoker Colton taught the Thorpes how to make, they had already preserved enough fish to get them through more than half the winter.

  With his fishing spear in his right hand and a stringer of fish in his left, Josh stared far across the ocean at the buildings of Ancada shimmering in the morning sunlight as he walked along the beach, back to the cottage. He wondered what it would have been like to live in the magical city rising up from the ocean if he and his family had made it there. “What do you think it would be like to live out there?” he said to Steven, his gaze still fixated on Ancada.

  Steven glanced at Josh, and then at the city in the ocean. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I was just wondering. My parents were gonna move there.”

  “Why didn’t they?”

  “We tried, but the city dwellers stopped us.”

  “It’s probably just as well. I heard it isn’t as good as you think.”

  “What do you mean? What’d you hear?”

  Steven ignored Josh and stopped when he saw his mother and sister petting a cow next to the house. “What the...”

  Josh looked to see what captured Steven’s attention. “Hey, a cow!”

  The two boys ran to the house and dropped their gear on the stoop, just outside the front door.

  Josh rushed over and stood beside Jessie. “I used to have one just like her,” he said, petting the cow’s ear. He noticed a chunk missing from the other ear and recognized the bovine as one of his father’s dairy cows. How could she have escaped? There was only one way she would have gotten out of the compound, and that’s if the fence had somehow been compromised. If the fence came down by intruders then they probably killed his mother. He realized that the cow was probably the last thing he’d ever see that linked him to a past that was gone forever.

  “Do you think she has any milk, Steven?” Elana said.

  Steven looked at the black and white animal standing in front of him and wondered how you could tell if a cow has milk. He assumed it was a female, judging by the teats hanging underneath, but that was the extent of his knowledge of cows.

  Josh bent down and glanced at the milk sac. “Get me a bucket, quick.”

  Elana rushed to the house, grabbed a bucket from the pantry, and brought it back to Josh.

  Josh immediately shoved it under the teats. The cow mooed in protest when he began to squeeze the milk from her overfilled sac. As it hit the side of the metal bucket, Elana and Steven exchanged a glance, amazed that Josh knew how to milk a cow.

  “Where’d you learn how to do that?” Elana asked.

  Josh wanted to tell her how he had milked this very cow many times in the past, but what would be the point? His old life was over, and it was best to forget it as fast as possible. “My father taught me.” He remembered his mother pouring some milk into the cup of tea she had made for him after giving him a bath. He missed her, remembering the moment, and wished he had drank the tea. It took everything he had not to cry.

  “Can we give her a name, Mommy?” Jessie said.

  “I don’t see why not. Do you have anything in mind?”

  Jessie thought for a while. “Walter.”

  “You already have a Walter, silly. Can you think of anything else?”

  Her name is Clowie, Josh thought silently.

  “How ‘bout Daisy?”

  “That’s perfect, honey. Her name is now, Daisy.”

  Jessie wrapped her arms around the cow’s neck and gave it a hug. “I love Daisy, Mommy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  APRIL KNEW SHE HAD only a few minutes before Calla returned. She was excited to learn all she could about her friend, and even though she did feel somewhat guilty about reading Calla’s private thoughts, she quickly scanned page after page, devouring every word. She learned that Calla liked the color yellow and her favorite dessert was cupcakes. She smiled when she read how Calla had saved an abandoned baby bird and nursed it with an eyedropper until it was strong enough to be set free. She read about the children that Calla wanted someday, a son and a daughter, and how she had hoped the world would someday be a safer, friendlier place for them to grow up in. She felt Calla’s sadness when she wrote about her parent’s dying, and then April saw her name on the next page. She was excited to read what Calla had written about her.

  April:

  I’m very much enjoying taking care of the nutrimen, with April being my favorite.

  April smiled.

  She is small framed, freckled faced, with matching red hair. A blissful ignorance hides behind her naïve smile that thinks I’m someone to trust.

  Her smile began to fade.

  My task is to feed the nutrimen, and I was instructed not to interact; communication is strictly forbidden, but I can’t resist any longer. This one is different.

  At fourteen she is three years my junior. She is younger than some
of the other nutrimen but seems more intelligent. She isn’t content with just sitting around waiting to be fed. Yesterday, a bird landed on the fence and she ran over to study it. She can mimic all the calls the indigenous birds make, with chickadees being her favorite. I’ve only been trying to communicate with her for one week, but she can already distinguish basic articles of clothing and certain shapes, and I hope to soon teach her colors. I am intrigued by her and, judging by the way she runs over when I approach, she by me. I guess in a strange way you could say we’ve become friends. Strange because I know why she’s on the inside of the fence, but she has no idea why I’m on the outside—and she will never ask. She can’t speak. She was raised that way, as were the others—a plan specifically formulated to prevent rebellion. Her number is 04302131, which was derived from the date she was born: April 30, 2131. I’m supposed to identify her by that number, but I prefer to call her April.

  Tears formed in April’s eyes.

  I first met April one month ago. We all have to contribute, so when my tasks changed from custodial to kennel, I was glad to be relieved of my cleaning duties. The nutrimen always intrigued me, so I was very excited when I was transferred to the kennel crew, a decision that was motivated by a referral from my friend, Sarah. Her father is the head of sustenance production.

  April and the other nutrimen were created for one purpose, and one purpose only: food for us, the Elite. With most mammals now extinct it was only logical for the Power Elite to create a new species derived from our DNA that could be harvested regularly. They’re easy to raise, require little space, and are high in protein, a nutritional benefit not readily available in plants.

  The words were blurred, but April continued reading through tear-filled eyes. Her hands trembled.

  They are also free from disease and biological defects—in a sense, a perfect food source. The nutrimen are ready to harvest in sixteen years. This age is ideal because the meat is still tender and most of them have physically matured.

  April closed the file. She dropped the tablet on the mattress and cried hard with her face in her hands. Her breathing quickened, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t catch her breath. She pressed her hand to her chest, gasping for air.

  Manolin entered the room. “What’s wrong? He rushed over to her. “Are you choking?”

  April shook her head, unable to speak.

  “Calm down, April. Try to breathe slower.”

  April took larger breaths and slowed her breathing. She closed her eyes and relaxed her head downward until she began breathing normally. “I’m okay now, Manolin,” she said, opening her eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “I just read something I shouldn’t have.”

  Manolin glanced down at the tablet lying on the bunk and noticed Calla’s picture under the word, Journal. “I can stay if you would like.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

  April and Manolin both glanced at the kennel door when they heard somebody unlocking it. Manolin ran back to the yard, and April shoved the tablet under the mattress and wiped her eyes.

  Calla appeared with a bag in her hands. She went directly into April’s pen and closed the door. “Hi, April,” she said. She placed the bag on the bed and removed a pair of jeans. “I got these from Sarah. I had to get her old clothes, because my parents might recognize mine if I dressed you in them.” She reached back into the bag, searching for the shirt she brought.

  April studied Calla. How could she have been so convincing? I believed she wanted to be my friend. She began to question everything about her. Why did she bring me to town? Is Sarah part of it? Of course she is. They’re all part of it. Everyone on the outside of the fence is part of it! She thought of all the people in the city, all shopping and having a good time, and she realized they were nothing at all what she had thought. They were all carnivorous creatures waiting for the next opportunity to feast on us—the nutrimen.

  April’s silence caught Calla’s attention. “Is something wrong, April?”

  April shook her head and said nothing.

  “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red and puffy.”

  “No. It must be the pollen in the air.”

  “I’m so excited, aren’t you?”

  “I might be if I knew where you were taking me.”

  “I can’t tell you in here. You’ll have to wait until we get outside.” Calla held out the pants. “Here, put these on.”

  April remembered when the tall girl had left the kennel and never came back. Her hand trembled slightly as she took the jeans and removed the white clothes she had grown accustomed to her entire life. After she put on the pants, Calla handed her a pink T-shirt. A pair of white, ankle-high sneakers soon followed.

  Calla stood back and admired her. “Not bad, April. A little baggy, but that’s the look we’re going for.” She grabbed April’s hand. “Come on, we have to go.”

  “Will I ever be coming back?”

  “No, why? Why would you ever want to come back?”

  April hesitated, thinking of the tall girl, as Calla tried to pull her into the yard. Her entire life she had wondered what was outside of the fence, and now that she had the chance to leave the kennel, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her bunk and curl up under the blanket. She wished she had never stolen Calla’s tablet and never learned to speak. She didn’t want to be “harvested.”

  “Come on, April. Don’t you wanna get out of this place?”

  And then she looked around the kennel. The concrete floor, the white block walls, the metal fence preventing the beautiful colors of the outside world from entering the white world she had known for so long, and she wondered if she would be able to exist behind the fence any longer now that she knew what lies on the other side. She slowly followed as Calla tugged her along.

  The other nutrimen watched as April walked by. In a life ruled by silence, words were never necessary to express their emotions; their eyes said all that was needed.

  Manolin held her hand, and they exchanged a somber smile while waiting for Calla to open the door. He thought it cruel to be able to speak but forbidden to say goodbye. When her hand slipped from his he watched her walk away. April glanced back one last time, and then Manolin slowly turned and went back to his pen.

  AFTER SUCCESSFULLY leaving the kennel through the rear door without being noticed, Calla guided April along the sidewalk by the beach. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said, glancing at April as they walked. A sea breeze blew the girls’ hair into their faces. Calla released April’s hand to fix her hair. “I’m taking you to my house to meet my parents.” When Calla noticed April’s hair was still in her face, she stroked her fingers across April’s forehead to remove it from her eyes. “I’m gonna tell them you’re a friend of mine, and you don’t have any place to live because your parents died.”

  For the first time in her life, April wondered if she really did have parents and if so, where they were. “Did my parents die?” she asked Calla.

  The question confused Calla, and she wasn’t sure how to answer it. “Of course not, April. We’re just telling my parents that, so maybe I can convince them to let you live with us.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Who?”

  “My parents.”

  Calla stopped and faced April. “I don’t know, April. I’m really sorry, but we don’t have time to discuss it right now. We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to convince my parents to let you live with us. We’ll talk more about it at some point in the future, okay?”

  April nodded, and Calla started walking again.

  I must have had parents, April thought, following Calla. Maybe not like Calla’s, but I had to have been created from someone. Did they, too, become ‘food for the Elite’? The thought angered her, but what could she do? She was trapped in a world where she had no control, and she had no choice but to hope that Calla was truly trying to save her and not leading her to be harvested.

 
“I tried to come up with a way your parents might have died without it sounding suspicious,” Calla said. “I thought it would sound believable if we say they drowned in a boat during a sudden storm. We could say you were with them and someone rescued you, but your parents didn’t make it.”

  April stopped walking. “Why did you remove me from the kennel, Calla?”

  The question stopped Calla. She turned to face April. “Because I want to get you out of that place.”

  “Why is it so important to get me out of there?”

  “Because I want you to be able to live a life outside of the kennel. To experience the things I experience and to see everything that life has to offer.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  Calla stepped closer. “Of course it is, April. Why are you asking these questions?”

  April didn’t know what to believe. She wanted to trust Calla, but if she did and was wrong she would pay with her life. She could choose not to believe, but there was sincerity in Calla’s eyes that made her feel as though their friendship was real. Maybe Calla was trying to save her from being harvested. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to being outside of the kennel.”

  Calla looped her arm through April’s. “Well, you’d better get used to it. You’ve got a whole new life waiting for you, so come on, let’s go start it.”

  The girls walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk. In the distance, the tall buildings of the city towered overhead like giant gemstones shimmering in the sunlight. The waves of the ocean stretched across the sand toward a flock of gulls, squawking over the carcass of a dead human washed to shore from the mainland. April glanced at the birds, wondering what they were pecking at that lay buried in the sand.