Authors: Amy Cross
Enda
Plunging the rag into the bucket of water, I swoosh it about for a moment before pulling it out and wringing it tight. Water runs back down into the bucket, and then I turn and start wiping more mud from the woman's belly. I've been really gentle with her so far, just in case her belly might be sensitive. After all, I don't want to accidentally burst it open and have spiders come rushing out, so I'm taking more care than usual.
I'm not usually even this gentle when it's my own body I'm cleaning.
As I wipe the rag over the side of the belly, I feel another faint kicking sensation from inside. I smile instinctively, although I don't know why. Somehow, deep down, I feel less like the swollen belly is an aberration and more like it's something that's supposed to happen. Making my way around the table, I start cleaning the other side of the belly, and I kinda slip into some kind of meditative state, just enjoying the regular kicks I feel. I spend way longer cleaning this part of her than I should, and finally I have to force myself to move on. After re-wetting the rag, I step along the side of the table and start cleaning the woman's breasts, although I can't help noticing that these, too, seem kind of sore and large.
“My wife is pregnant,” the man shouted at me earlier, as I was feeding him to the pigs. “Please, where is she? She's eight-and-a-half months pregnant, I have to make sure she's okay.”
“Pregnant,” I whisper, although the word feels strange in my mouth. “That's got to mean
something
.”
Enda
Pregnant
. What does
pregnant
mean?
I could go and ask Pa, of course, but somehow I don't think he'd give me much of an answer. He's always told me that there are things I just don't need to know, things that might upset me if I learned them. I remember him explaining once that I need to keep my head pure and focused, rather than filling it with things that I'm never going to need to know about. So instead of wasting my time by going back up to him, I head through to the front room and pull the sofa away to reveal what's left of the old bookcase. Pa doesn't have many books, but he's always been a smart man and I'm sure he has the ones he needs. I just need to work out which ones are which.
Crouching down, I take a look at the books. I can read pretty well, but I'm not sure Pa has many books about health. Running my fingers along the spines, I mostly find a bunch of old war novels by people with names like Alistair MacLean and Sven Hassel. At the far end of the shelf, there are some books with pink and yellow spines. Pulling them out, I see pictures of naked women on the front and I quickly slip them back before checking the other shelf, which contains mostly old science-fiction novels and spaceships and aliens.
Checking one of the books, I see that it has a painting of strange creatures on the cover, and things flying through the sky. I'm pretty sure nothing like that could really exist, so I put the book back, figuring that it's just something stupid. I don't know why Pa would ever have wanted to read about things like that. I think the same thing when I pull out another book with naked people on the cover. Sometimes, there are parts of Pa's life that I really, truly don't understand.
Finally, just as I'm about to give up, I spot another book resting at the far end of the shelf. Pulling it out, I see that it has a picture of a butterfly on the front. Now
that
, I know, is a real thing, so I open the book and find that it contains hundreds and hundreds more pictures, along with text describing each of the butterflies. Sitting back and leaning against the wall, I ignore the woman's continued cries as I start flicking through the book's pages, enthralled by the images. I've honestly never seen anything so beautiful.
Page after page of the most amazing images in the whole world. And eventually I find a page that shows some kind of wriggling worm breaking out of a wrapper. According to the text, this is how butterflies come into the world. I've always wondered about things like that, and about where humans come from, but Pa never found the time to explain. For a moment, my mind drifts back to the sight of the woman's belly...
Suddenly hearing a loud banging sound from upstairs, I toss the book aside and race through to the hallway. By the time I get to the top of the stairs, I can tell something's wrong with Pa, and when I get to his room I find that he's hauled himself out of his chair and has started crawling toward the window.
“Pa!” I shout, grabbing his arm so I can drag him back to the chair. “What are you -”
Before I can finish, he turns and lunges at me. At the last moment I spot a shard of torn metal in his hand, and I twist out of the way just as he tries to sink the blade into my chest. He lets out a gasp and falls to the floor, and I pull back, shocked by the fact that he just tried to attack me. I thought he'd gotten over all of this.
I thought he'd accepted that I'm in charge now.
Groaning, he tries to get up, but he's clearly too weak. He still has the shard in his trembling right hand, and after a moment I step closer and snatch it away from him. He lets out a faint cry, but I quickly take him by the shoulders and drag him back up into the chair.
“What was that for?” I ask breathlessly. “Huh? What did you do that for? Why'd you want to hurt me?”
I pause, tempted to cut his face with the shard so that he'll know not to do it again, but finally I step back and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I'm not a cruel person, and I don't want to hurt him. Whatever just came over him, I'm sure it was only temporary and he'll go back to sleep soon.
“Let her...” he whispers, “let her...”
I wait for him to complete the sentence. It's months and months since the last time I heard his voice, and he seems so weak, weaker than I ever thought Pa could sound.
“Let her go,” he says finally. “Enda, please... Let her go...”
“Why?” I ask.
“If she's pregnant... Let her go...”
“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly, trying to stay calm. “Do you mean her belly? Is that what pregnant means? Why's her belly so big?”
I wait for him to explain, but his breathing has become more labored now, as if he's struggling to get air into his mouth.
“What do you mean?” I ask again, taking a step closer. “Pa, what does pregnant mean? The man from the car said that word too, but I don't know what it means. What does -”
Suddenly he tries to snatch the piece of metal from my hand. I slip aside and his hand grasps at me for a moment before falling back onto his lap.
“If you won't tell me,” I continue, with tears in my eyes, “I'll find out for myself. I will, you know! I'm sixteen years old! That makes me old enough to start finding things out without having to learn them from you! You'll see!”
With that, I head out of the room and pull his door shut. I hurry to the next room along and make my way to the ledge by the window, where I find the dirty old jar that I once used to keep my butterfly collection. Holding the jar up to the light, I tilt it a little and watch as the dead butterflies slide down to the bottom. I spent so much time collecting them a few years ago, and keeping them alive, and making sure Brother couldn't find them and kill them, but they still died anyway. At least they're not rotting, though. I sealed the jar as tight as possible, and the butterflies still look beautiful, even if I couldn't keep them alive.
If I had to choose between butterflies and pigs, I'd always choose butterflies. They're much prettier.
Enda
Leaning over the wall, I look down into the pig-pen and see that they've eaten most of the corpse I tossed in earlier. There are a few bones poking out of the mud like little diamonds, some of them with pieces of flesh still stuck to the ends, but a couple of the pigs are busy finishing them off. Soon everything'll be gone.
Glancing over toward the far end of the pen, I spot a couple of the young pigs suckling their mother. They're looking good and strong now, even though it's not that long since they were born. One died during the delivery and ended up eaten by the others, but I figure that's not too bad, 'cause two still survived. Two big, hulking pink beasts that are only gonna get stronger with each passing day. Pa didn't ever show me how to birth pigs, but I figured it out myself.
Heading around to the other side of the pen, I reach down and stroke one of them. Its flesh feel harsh and rough against my hand, but that's fine, my skin's not exactly soft.
Suddenly I hear a scream from the farmhouse. Looking over at the back door, I realize the woman must have woken up.
Enda
“Help me!” she screams, between snatched breaths. “Somebody help me! My baby's coming!”
Pushing the door open just a little, I peer through and see to my horror that the woman is struggling violently against the restraints around her wrists and ankles. Her whole body is trembling as she tries to get free, and even from here I can see sweat glistening on her forehead.
“Please help me!” she sobs. “Pete! Help!”
I pause for a moment, before gently pulling the door shut again.
“Who's there?” the woman yells suddenly.
I flinch.
She saw me.
“Please help me!” she shouts. “Whoever you are, you have to get me out of here! Please, I don't know what's happening but I have to get to a hospital! Where's my husband?”
Staying completely still, I listen to the sound of the restraints rattling against the sides of the table. People always try to get free when they first wake up here, but this woman seems stronger than the rest, and I'm actually starting to wonder whether she might be able to get away. After a moment, however, I remind myself that those restraints are way too firm and tight, and I realize I just need to stay calm. Still, this is the first new arrival since Lindsay all those years ago, so it's the first time I've been completely in charge of what happens.
“Help me!” the woman screams, and I swear her voice is so loud, I can hear the nearby windowpane rattling slightly. “Pete, where are you? Pete, the baby's coming!”
Baby?
“Help!” she screams again, and this time it sounds like her throat is damaged, almost as if she's shouting too loud and too hard. That's happened before, with some of the other people who've come here. They scream so much, they start coughing up blood.
After a moment, I realize I can hear a series of pained grunts from the other side of the door, and the restraints are rattling again. She's trying to tear herself free from the table.
“You won't manage it,” I whisper, mainly just to keep myself feeling confident. “You need a key to get out of those.”
Reaching into my pocket, I double-check that the key is still safe.
“It's coming!” she screams. “Oh God, it's coming! I need a doctor!”
Coming?
What's coming?
I want to push the door open again, but I'm scared she might see me. People always get so upset the first time they see my face, and this woman is already upset enough.
“You have to help me!” she shouts, as she continues to rattle the chains that bind her to the table. “Please, my baby's coming, you have to get me to a doctor! I don't know what this place is, but I can't have my baby here! Where's my husband? Where's Pete?”
I wait, and for a moment all I hear is a series of faint sobs. After a few seconds, however, I realize I can hear the pigs snorting outside. I guess all the noise is making them unsettled as they try to digest their meal. Can't say I blame them.
“Help me!” the woman screams suddenly, louder than ever. “Pete! Help!”
Flinching slightly, I take a step back from the door. Part of me wants to just turn and go out into the yard, and wait until the woman's panic dies down, but at the same time I can't help feeling curious. Finally, figuring that I have to make a decision, I turn the handle and push the door open just a little, peering through the crack until I see her desperately struggling against the restraints. My eyes are quickly drawn, however, to the swollen dome of her belly.
And then I see that some kind of water is dribbling down from the bottom of the table, splattering against the floor.
“Who the fuck are you?” the woman screams.
Startled, I turn and see that she's staring straight at me. Instinctively, I pull the door shut again.
“Who are you?” she yells. “Help me! You have to find my husband and get me out of this place!”
She rattles the chains louder than ever. To be honest, this isn't really going very well so far, and I'm starting to think that it might be pretty hard to make the woman like me. If she's ever going to settle into a new life here at the farm and become my sister, she's going to have to get over her shock, and that seems impossible right now.
“Please come back!” she shouts. “I saw you! I know you're there! Please, you have to get me out of here and take me to a hospital.” She's whimpering a little now, and sniffing back tears. “My baby's coming. Do you understand? My baby's coming and I can't have it here. I have to go to a hospital.”
I wait, and after a few seconds I realize I've accidentally started holding my breath.
“Do you understand?” the woman continues, her voice trembling with fear. The restraints are rattling less now. “Can you call an ambulance? And can you find my husband? I don't know where I am, but I need my husband! Please, whatever's going on, I have to go somewhere safe so I can have my baby!”
I pause for a moment, before slowly pushing the door open again. This time, I see that for some reason the woman has her legs open wide.
“Oh God,” she stammers, staring at me. “Your face...”
I pull the door closed a little more, so she can't see me properly, but I keep it open enough that I can still watch her trembling legs.
“My baby's coming,” she continues. “Do you understand what I'm saying? Do you speak English? My baby's coming and I can't have it here. This place is... It's filthy. I don't even know where I am or how I got here, but -”
Suddenly she lets out a howl of pain, and she pulls tighter than ever against the chains.
“It's coming!” she screams. “The contractions are so close! Please, I can feel it coming and -”
Again she cries out, and for some reason she opens her legs wider than before.
I know I should just go upstairs and wait until she calms down, but I feel like I'm on the verge of seeing something completely new, of understanding why her belly is so large. After staring at the woman's legs for a moment, I push the door open and step into the room. My heart is pounding as she continues to scream, but I force myself to be brave as I step around the very edge of the room, making my way to the lower end of the table. I know she'll be horrified when she sees my face properly, but that's okay. I'm used to it.
“Pete!” she screams. “Help me!”
She keeps calling his name, and begging me to take her to hospital, but I keep my eyes fixed on her legs as I make my way around the table. Finally, stopping over by the dresser, I look between her legs and see to my horror that something seems to be wrong, as if she's being stretched and torn from the inside. I've never, ever seen a human body do anything like this before, but I stay rooted to the spot, unable to stop staring at the bizarre sight. Even the woman's continued screams aren't enough to shake me from a kind of trance, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I watch her body somehow growing and opening between her legs, almost as if...
Almost as if something's about to come out of her.
“Please help me,” she sobs, as her whole body trembles. “Please...”
She falls silent for a moment, before suddenly letting out another terrifying scream. I flinch and step back, bumping against the dresser, but still I keep my eyes fixed on the gap between her legs. Something's
definitely
coming out, tearing her flesh in the process, and I can see a kind of bloodied bulge pushing its way through. The bulge seems to be twisting a little, too, almost as if it's wriggling its own way out.
I was right earlier. There
was
something alive inside her belly, and now it's escaping. And whatever it is, I think I can see a face. And I think it's starting to cry.