Sheep on the Fourth Floor

by Leonie Thorpe

  Anna ran her thumb over the intricate handle of the teacup. How cool that her nana believed in using the beautiful antique tea set instead of locking it away in the china cabinet. Nana Richmond didn’t even care when Anna broke two saucers and a milk jug when she was little; she had been more concerned that Anna hadn’t cut herself.

  Anna sipped her tea and gazed at the little teapot with its painted red roses. Her mind wandered to the rose gardens in the city and the strange tree there called a ‘monkey puzzle’—the name always made her grin. Then she thought of the tidy lawn of grass at the bottom of the monkey puzzle tree, always perfectly green, impeccably maintained with not a weed in sight. Her grin faltered then dissolved. Her thoughts had turned from grass to sheep to Rom, accompanied by a cloud of sadness.

  She took a hair tie out of her pocket and began to fidget with it. ‘Nana,’ she said, ‘if a grown-up does something you think is wrong, what do you do? Should you try to fix it?’

  ‘Are you referring to Peter’s smoking?’

  Anna paused and then slowly shook her head.

  Her nana cast her a puzzled glance. ‘Let’s assume you’re not going to tell me exactly what it is you are speaking of,’ she said shrewdly.

  Anna shook her head again. She didn’t know why she couldn’t tell her grandmother about the sheep in Penelope’s laboratory. Something was stopping her. Perhaps it was because her grandmother hadn’t been there to witness the sadness in the sheep’s eyes.

  ‘All I can say is that parents usually have a very good reason for the things they do,’ said Nana Richmond. ‘However, bear in mind that they are not without their faults. They’ve got their own opinions and ways of doing things.’

  Anna bit her lip and nodded.

  ‘But without knowing all the details of this…something you are speaking of,’ her nana continued, ‘perhaps the main issue would be whether you could live with the consequences if you stood by and did nothing.’

  Anna turned her head and stared silently out the window. Nana Richmond was right. Sitting and contemplating the unfairness of the situation was only making her miserable. She had to concentrate on accepting the truth of the matter because, no matter how bad it was, she wasn’t really thinking about rescuing the sheep. Was she?

  ‘Ah, your face has fallen again!’ Nana Richmond scolded. ‘Cheer up for pity’s sake! You’re far too young to take all the worries of the world on your shoulders. Maybe you should let this one go. There’ll be plenty more chances to prove yourself when you’re older. Just relax and enjoy being young.’

  Anna managed a small grin—she was even starting to irritate herself with her own glumness.

  ‘I suppose I might cheer up,’ Anna said, ‘if you could spare a chocolate biscuit?’

  ‘What’s this, blackmail?’ her nana grumbled, but she smiled despite herself and reached for the tin with the Scottie dog on the top.

  Anna returned home feeling lighter of heart. Maybe what Nana Richmond had said was right: all Anna needed to do was to lighten up and relax, to be a kid for a while. She resolved to stop tackling grown-up issues, forget about the sheep and trust the adults to do the right thing. She felt immediately relieved.

  Anna looked around for Penelope. ‘Mum?’ she called out.

  ‘In the bathroom,’ a voice replied. ‘Just fixing my nails.’

  Anna put her bag down and grabbed the newspaper. Relax and lighten up. What she needed was a silly movie, perhaps some teenage American rubbish. She scanned the television pages. Beverly Hills Cheerleaders was on at eight o’clock. Perfect. Anna was determined to watch it and enjoy it too. She wouldn’t sit there criticizing their acting abilities or the terrible dialogue or ridiculous plot. She would just enjoy it for what it was: silliness. Anna shunted Penelope’s briefcase away from the coffee table with her foot. The briefcase toppled over and spilled a few sheets of paper.

  ‘Whoops!’

  When Anna bent down to tidy them away a piece of paper grabbed her attention. It wasn’t covered with genetic code like most of them. It was a printed email. Her eyes automatically scanned it, and the word ‘sheep’ caught her attention. She knew it was private, but before she realized what she was doing, she was reading the whole thing.

  Hey Doc, it seems we were right about the results of the pneumonia experiment—the erratic heart rate of the sheep means the results we’ve collected so far aren’t going to be reproducible. Bummer!

  I’m going to have to contact the labs in Sydney and Auckland and use their Bufromycin results in my write-up, but I’ll still need to include a tissue sample analysis of Rom’s lungs, and also have his liver and spleen weighed.

  There’s no point in delaying the procedure so I’ve booked Rom in for next Wednesday at 11 a.m. Doctor Nichols from the mortuary needs your signature, of course, so can you autograph the appropriate paperwork? Cheers, Jeff.

  Anna’s hand gripped the paper tightly and a sudden hollow feeling in her stomach made her queasy. The reply email, underneath Jeff’s, was short and to the point:

  No problem. Paperwork complete. Send me a copy of the results. Regards, Doctor Pascoe.

  Anna looked at the date at the top of her mother’s email: Thursday the seventeenth, 12.15 p.m. Anna put the piece of paper slowly and carefully back into the briefcase and closed it. The thought of a silly movie no longer seemed appealing. Anna’s head reeled with the contents of the email. There could be no mistaking its meaning. Today, just after midday, Penelope had authorized Rom’s death warrant.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Since the confession to his parents, things had been different between Duggie and Kurt. Duggie had remained speechless while Kurt sat nervously in front of the family, his risotto cold and congealed in front of him, and quietly told them of his thieving. His mother had burst into woeful tears while his father shook his head with disapproval. ‘Duggie, could you leave us alone to have a talk with Kurt, please?’ His father’s brow was heavy and his mouth was a thin line of displeasure. Kurt could read in his face the preparations for a long sermon.

  ‘Yeah, I was going back to the garage anyway,’ said Duggie, pushing himself away from the table. As he headed for the front door, he clapped Kurt roughly on the shoulder. ‘Looks like you’re up for it now, sunshine,’ he muttered in Kurt’s ear. Duggie glanced at his watch. ‘I’d say there’s a good hour’s worth of Dad’s lecturing in that little gem.’

  Kurt sensed that this delighted his brother enormously.

  The discussion was stern, tedious and full of tears and, as Duggie predicted, about an hour long.

  ‘We’re sooo disappointed, Kurt,’ his mother had sobbed. ‘It’s just so unlike you. After all you went through to get that scholarship? What happened? We always thought you were such a trustworthy and sensible boy.’

  ‘What made you do it?’ his father wanted to know. ‘Do we not give you enough pocket money, son? Did someone tell you to do it? It’s that Richardson kid, isn’t it, the one from up the road, who goes to school over in Scarborough?’

  Kurt had to explain, over and over, that it was his own idea. He knew it was stupid, he knew it was wrong, but now he had learned his lesson, it was all finished and it would never happen again. It took a while but they finally seemed to believe him.

  ‘Well, son, I’m glad you’ve come clean about this,’ his father concluded. ‘It takes a brave man to confess he’s done something irresponsible.’ Both his dad and mum had given him a hug. Kurt had felt good afterwards; it was the first time his dad had called him a man! But he also felt totally exhausted.

  Duggie still called him names but they seemed to be said in a less scornful way, and for some reason Kurt no longer felt he was being mocked.

  ‘BRAINS!’ Duggie screeched down the hallway. ‘GEEK-BOY! THE PHONE’S FOR YOU!’

  ‘OKAY!’ Kurt yelled back. He sighed, dropped the motorsports magazine Duggie had lent him onto his bed, and swung his legs over the edge. The phone? It was probably Travis wanting to organize a hit of tennis
at the weekend.

  Duggie put his head around the doorway of Kurt’s room and waved the cordless at him. He was grinning slyly. ‘It’s a girl!’

  Kurt pulled a face at him. ‘Yeah, right,’ he scoffed. ‘Or perhaps it’s Prince William inviting me round for a game of polo? Maybe it’s Shakespeare come back from the dead just to help me with my English homework?’ Kurt shook his head as he grabbed the phone; Duggie’s jokes were so predictable. Sometimes there wasn’t anyone on the line at all.

  ‘Hello?’ Kurt barked into the receiver.

  ‘Hi. Is that Kurt?’ said a girl’s voice.

  Kurt nearly dropped the phone. ‘Uh…yeah,’ he replied.

  Duggie, who was still standing at the doorway, collapsed into laughter. Kurt glared at him and shut the door in his face, then stood with his back leaning against it.

  ‘Yeah, this is Kurt,’ he repeated, trying to gather his wits. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it.

  ‘It’s Anna Pascoe here,’ she said. ‘Have you got time to talk?’

  Kurt’s heart sank. ‘Is it about your watch?’ he asked. He hoped he hadn’t broken it or something. There was no way he could afford to fix it.

  ‘No, it’s not the watch,’ said Anna. ‘It’s something much more important.’

  Kurt thought she sounded upset. ‘Oh. Well, what’s up?’

  Anna didn’t reply and Kurt got the impression that she was struggling to find the right words. ‘It might be better if I talk to you face to face,’ she said after a while. ‘Can you meet me at the park in fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Uh, sure,’ said Kurt.

  ‘Okay, see you soon.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Kurt hung up the phone. With a sigh of resignation he decided he must have done something else wrong. Why else would Anna Pascoe want to talk with him?

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ said Anna. ‘I hope I didn’t drag you away from anything too important.’ She sat beside Kurt on the park bench, twisting a red elastic hair tie absently around her fingers.

  ‘It’s okay, I was just mucking around,’ Kurt confessed.

  Anna eyed him carefully. ‘Something really bad has happened,’ she said.

  ‘Oh?’ Kurt steeled himself for a telling-off. It was something he had gotten used to over the last few weeks.

  ‘I know I said before that it was okay to do the experiments,’ said Anna in a tight voice, ‘but now it seems like they were a waste of time because of his heart rate and so next Wednesday morning they’re going to weigh his liver and lungs!’

  Behind the park bench a young mother was pushing her son on the swing. Kurt jumped as the toddler screamed loudly with delight.

  Kurt stared blankly at Anna. ‘Er…what are you talking about?’ he said.

  ‘The sheep!’ Anna declared. ‘Rom! The one we saw at the laboratory.’

  ‘Oh, right!’ said Kurt. So he wasn’t in trouble after all. That was a nice change. But he was struggling to understand what all this had to do with him. ‘What were you saying about lungs?’

  Anna told Kurt about the email she had found in her mum’s briefcase.

  ‘The only way to get a lung sample and weigh his organs is to cut them out. After he’s dead,’ said Anna.

  ‘So they’re gonna butcher Rom just so they can put some figures in a report?’ said Kurt, incredulously. ‘That’s a kind of depressing end to a miserable story, isn’t it?’

  ‘And the experiments aren’t going to make a difference to anyone!’ said Anna. ‘Mum told me it will take years before they let any human try the drug they gave to Rom, and after all that, they might find out it’s not useful anyway. And there’s worse too. I looked on the Internet and it’s not just one sheep. In this country alone there are over five thousand sheep being used in experiments!’

  ‘Five thousand!’ Kurt whistled. He imagined a long queue of sheep lining up outside the back door of the hospital. ‘Are they all kept inside like that, on their own?’

  ‘Not all of them,’ Anna replied. ‘Other labs, like the ones for the meat and wool industry, at least attempt to keep them in outdoor pens or paddocks. Sheep are flock animals, so if you keep one on its own it will never be at ease. I read all about it. That would explain why Rom’s heart rate was up; he was stressed being on his own. That’s why their experiment failed.’ She sighed and twisted her hair. ‘Surely they should have known that before they started.’

  Kurt kicked his foot at a tall dandelion seed head. The seeds took to the air, skipping over the bark towards the blue slide. ‘It’s a shame Rom’s never going to see a paddock again,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I feel exactly the same,’ said Anna. ‘That’s why I called you.’

  Kurt held his hand up to his forehead to shade the sun. He stared at Anna. ‘Huh?’

  ‘We both agree that it’s unfair and cruel that Rom is going to…’ Anna swallowed. ‘…die in there on the fourth floor, without seeing the world again.’

  Kurt nodded warily.

  ‘Especially since the experiments didn’t even work. So I thought we should…I think we have a duty to do all we can to make his final days more comfortable. More enjoyable,’ said Anna.

  Kurt looked doubtful. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking that maybe we should ask if we can take him out of the building for a while, even just an hour or two. We could arrange to take him somewhere nice; a farm paddock or even just a rugby field. Let him see the world one last time.’

  Kurt laughed, ‘Kind of like a prisoner’s last cigarette?’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about cigarettes,’ Anna muttered. ‘Look, I know it’s not much but I can’t just stand by and let them end Rom’s life like that,’ said Anna.

  Kurt blew a breath out of his mouth and put his hands behind his head. ‘It’s a nice idea but there’s no way they’ll let you take him. It’ll probably excite him too much and interfere with his liver or something and bugger up their autopsy.’

  Anna chewed her lip. Kurt was right; she hadn’t thought of that.

  ‘I mean, even if you did get him out of there, it would be like you were the executioner when you took him back in,’ said Kurt.

  Anna nodded despondently. She continued to stretch the hair tie in and out between her finger and thumb.

  ‘Why don’t you stage a protest outside the hospital?’ Kurt suggested. ‘The television news might film you and once everyone knows about the sheep they’ll be forced to let him go.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘I thought about that too, but Mum and Jeff would probably lose their jobs. Something to do with the employment privacy rules and letting us see the sheep in the first place.’

  Kurt leaned forwards with his hands on the edge of the seat. He could see that Anna was burdened with guilt and he felt sorry for her.

  ‘Ah well, there’s nothing else you can do,’ he said, trying to make her feel better. ‘I mean, unless you just walk in there and take the sheep and set it free.’ Kurt chuckled at his suggestion, and embellished it for his own amusement. ‘Yeah, I could get my brother, Duggie, to help us. We could whisk Rom away in the orange roughy—that’s what I call the crapped-out car he’s doing up. We’d have to go in the middle of the night when nobody was there, and we could use your mum’s security card to get in. Ha ha!’ Kurt laughed at the ridiculousness of his plan.

  The hair tie froze in Anna’s hand. Suddenly she turned and grabbed Kurt by the arm. ‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘That’s it! That’s what we have to do! Brilliant! You’re right, there’ll be nobody there in the middle of the night and I could easily get hold of Mum’s security card, and you’ve got experience with taking stuff that doesn’t belong to you, and if your brother could drive us, I know this really good park where we could set Rom free, up in the hills…’

  Kurt stared at Anna with horror. ‘I was joking!’ he cried. ‘How could you even think I was being serious?’

  But Anna didn’t seem to hear him. ‘It’s an awesome plan! We’ll have to d
o it before next Wednesday because that’s when Rom’s going to be…operated on. How about Sunday night? Would Duggie be able to do it then?’

  ‘No, no, no!’ Kurt shook his head. ‘Anna, you’ve gone completely loopy. I was joking, see? Ha ha; very funny. I didn’t really mean we should go into the hospital and steal the sheep.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be stealing though,’ Anna replied. ‘It would be rescuing. You were there, Kurt! You saw Rom; you saw how wretched he was. And now they’re going to kill him. We have to do something.’

  Kurt didn’t reply immediately. He stared into the distance and bit his lip. ‘Did you see the look in Rom’s eyes?’ he asked. ‘I’ve seen that look once before.’ He took a deep breath and told Anna about the car accident. ‘This dog, it just ran straight out in front of the car. Mum couldn’t stop. Thud!’ Kurt clapped his hand onto his thigh. ‘We tried to help it but its leg was bent backwards and it had froth coming out of its mouth, and blood…’ Kurt shuddered. ‘…blood coming out of its head. And it whined and looked right at us, the same look that was on that sheep’s face; pleading for us to help. But there was nothing we could do. We couldn’t stop it from dying right there in front of us.’ Kurt sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

  Anna sucked air through her teeth and shook her head in sympathy.

  Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

  Then Anna looked at Kurt and said softly, ‘Maybe now is your chance to do something.’

  Kurt shook his head. ‘But you can’t just walk into the hospital and take the sheep.’

  ‘Why not?’ Anna replied.

  ‘Because…you just can’t!’

  ‘He’s an animal being kept in cruel conditions,’ Anna reminded Kurt. ‘He cannot speak for himself.’

  Kurt had never seen Anna with such a fierce look in her eye.

  ‘Come on, I need your help,’ Anna pleaded. ‘You’re the one with the criminal experience.’

  ‘I thought you understood: I don’t steal any more.’ Kurt could feel his face going red.