Retold Tales

So, instead of making you all go out and find my other blog, which you can get to by going to my home page, I have decided to occasionally post some stories here. Anything posted under this title will be stories that come from my books, and/or my othe blog/posting places. I'll probably intersperse it with rants and writing theory, also posted elsewhere. Eventually I'll figure out how to monetize a blog, and the stuff I put there will be more exclusive. This stuff gets to be shared, and free though. This particular story comes out of Half Flashed. #buymybooks

Afield

                I miss my mommy.

                I ain’t seen her since I was weaned, which came early for me. I think I was stolen, think she wanted to keep me. She might be stuck in some government deal or a prison. Men came in and took me. I remember her crying. I don’t know what happened to her after. Last thing I remember of her is the image of her reaching out to me, and me reaching right back. I was crying too. The mean men didn’t care. I think we’re up for adoption now. It’s cold here most nights and smells funny. I’m not alone in the orphanage. There are nineteen of us sharing this place. I can hear the others but haven’t met them yet. I thought it was a government facility, but now I think that’s wrong. I saw one of the caretakers at feeding time the other day. It was a first and they are scary. They look different than we do. They talk to each other but I can’t understand them. They might be aliens. They don’t seem to like to touch us, so they feed us with a big noisy machine. Maybe we’re part of a treaty with another planet, or maybe we’re payment for something. I wish I could understand what they say.

                I have been here about three months now. There are twenty-three of us. Some died during winter. Others were brought in. I think my name it Betty because that is the only thing I understand that the caretakers say. They say it often again when they look at me. I have started calling out to the other children but so far I can’t understand what they say back.

                We don’t do much during the day. Most of us sleep through it. Then we play at night. We whisper to each other through the bars of our cribs in the dark. We have to be quiet because if we get too loud the big one comes in and yells at us. He hasn’t hit anyone yet but I think he wants to. I think I turned one today.

                I really like Tommy. He’s the youngest of us and he has the crib next to mine. These things are big so I think they plan on keeping us in them for a long time. Anyway, I like Tommy because he tells me jokes at night. Most of the time I still miss my mommy, I wonder where she is and wish I knew her. When Tommy hears me crying he starts whispering through the wall to me until I get laughing. Sometimes it’s bad because I laugh too loud and the big caretaker comes in and hits me. Most of the time the jokes are just enough and I can sleep though. I do wish I could be with my mommy. I dream of her holding me and keeping me warm. Maybe I’ll get adopted soon. We think there are families interested because the caretakers brought in some others that inspected us and nodded a lot. I hope it’s better than here.

                Something got Tommy last night. We were sleeping and this monster broke in and just attacked him! I woke up to the sounds of flesh ripping, the sound of something panting, the smell of blood. The rest of us started crying and trying to stay as far back in our cribs as we could. Tommy screaming was the worst, it made me so afraid. The big caretaker burst in and shot the monster dead. I don’t know how, since the weapon he was using was so tiny, the caretakers are small compared to our parents, but he killed the monster. I saw it when they took it out and it was ugly! Tommy was still alive when they took him out. He was screaming and crying and begging for help. The caretakers acted like they couldn’t understand him. Tommy hasn’t come back yet. I hope he gets better soon. I miss my friend, and there is nobody to tell me jokes when I cry. All I have are the nightmares now.

                The caretakers don’t bring the others around anymore. I’m glad, I didn’t like the way they looked at me at the end. It was like they couldn’t wait to take me home but not for wholesome things. The other kids don’t talk to me anymore, so I’m lonely. I don’t miss my mom anymore though. I can’t remember her. At least that means I don’t cry at night. That’s good because the crib next to mine is still empty. I miss Tommy but I don’t need his jokes anymore. I guess I’m growing up. My crib feels smaller but I still can’t climb out of it. I’ve tried.

                We get to go out in the yard, we have to. I think the caretakers don’t want us getting fat. Sometimes it’s sunny and I smile and run around, sometimes it’s raining and then we have to move to keep warm. If we’re bad then the caretakers will hit us in the face and most of us cry. I don’t cry though, there are worse things. If we’re really bad then they poke us with a stick and put a nine volt battery on our tongue. That hurts a lot, and I cry when they do that. They put tattoos on us too, that hurt even more.

                Sue is mean. She told me the other children don’t talk to me because I’m cursed. They say Tommy is dead because he was friends with me. She said that’s why the others don’t come anymore and none of us have been adopted. She says that’s why the crib next to mine is still empty. She says the caretakers know I’m cursed too. I cry at night again, and I miss Tommy. I turned four the other day.

                It’s not all bad here. The other kids are talking to me again and it’s fun to go outside. The caretakers are always watching, making sure we don’t run away or do anything bad. During the day we play tag, and I win most of the time because I’m quick and smart. We laugh and love each other. Playtime is wonderful. If the caretakers weren’t there it would be better but we learn to ignore them. At night we still whisper, but we have to be quiet so the caretakers don’t come in mad. They’re always there now, ever since Tommy someone is always watching. It makes me feel safe. I hope we never get adopted.

                It’s my birthday! I don’t know why the caretakers are throwing me a party but I guess turning five is special. I must be special because none of the other kids got a party. Sue is so jealous. They gave us extra food and I’m so full and happy! Now we get to play games. We’re having a race through a maze and the caretakers are watching. I’m going to win! I’ll show them how great I am. This maze is stupid, it’s a straight line but the sun is out, we’re together and I’m winning! I see the end of the maze now, there’s a piñata for me. I’m going to show them, I’ll headbutt it and make all the candy come out. The other kids will call me a show off but they’ll love me for the treats. I’m running faster now because I’m almost there.

 

                Farmer Bill was known as the big man to his friends and employees. He watched the cows running down the chute. It was always the same this time of year. It was almost a shame to see it happen. At least he had only lost one this time. Soon it would be the off season and worry about money and numbers for next year would start. That was when Leesa, his nine year old youngest daughter pointed. He followed the path of her finger and was about to chastise her for being silly. Then something caught his eye and it wasn’t right. It was one of those perfect moments shared between a father and daughter that those without children cannot understand. He turned to his wife.

                “What’s wrong dear?” She asked. She could always read him.

                “That first one, lot nineteen. The one you and the kids insisted on calling Bessy. I swear she looked at me and there was something in her eyes. It was like she knew what was coming, like she was happy about it. I never saw a cow look at me like that before, and she went with no prodding from the hands. She was speeding up the whole way.” His voice was rough and low. He knew cows didn’t think but there had always been something odd about that one. Leesa had seen something; maybe the thought had just infected him.

                “You going animal rights on us now, Bill? Going to stop eating steak, maybe even selling it?” There was no laugh in her voice but he knew she was joking. That’s just the way with long country marriages and the two were in their fifties now.

                “You shut your mouth woman.” He had to be the boss now. The hands were watching and the cow hadn’t looked at him in any strange way in truth. He convinced himself he was almost sure of that.