Happiness from Sacrifice

It's been a while since Jack came to see me and I miss him so much. Lately, Jack has been lull about coming to my house. I guess all the work in the farm keeps him busy as the harvest season has come and Jack's dad (whose name nobody around here, excepting Jack and his own, direct family, mentions) probably needs a hand.

"Mou, it's time for you to go to bed" said my mum, laying down on her bed.

"But Jack hasn't come to see me yet" I replied with a pity look in my eyes: a trick I often use to Jack whenever I want him to stay with me longer. He falls for it so easily.

"Go ahead Molly, it's time to spill the beans" said Russel from across our house. Russel was very old and he practically knew everything about this place, almost to the point that he could predict what would happen tomorrow, or in a week, or even in a year!

"Tell me what?" I asked rubbing my head against my mum.

"You're still too young to know about that Mou"

"No I'm not! Tell me!" I cried.

"You're going to have to tell him one day Molly, it might as well be now" decried the old creep. I never really liked Russel quite honestly, maybe, because I was jealous of him. Jack always spent more time with Russel and took him to his house once in a while. I never got the opportunity to get out of this compact area despite the fact that I was all grown up. Well... now, though, I don't think age has to do with all the adventures Russel gets to enjoy. My mum, who was quite old, believe it or not, neither got the chance to explore the world beyond these wooden chambers.

"Okay, okay!" renounced my mum and pushed me down with her heavy chin so that I could relax on the hay.

"You see Mou, Jack is now pretty big, or rather, he is pretty old, so he has a lot of stuff he needs to do besides coming to see you"

What was that supposed to mean? Jack was still only a baby to me. I was so much taller and heavier than him. If I wanted to, I could easily crush him in seconds.

"I don't understand mum. Can't he just peek in for ten seconds to say good night? I would do that if I were him"

"I know Mou... I told you that you were still too young to understand this"

I guess she was right. I wanted to say something so ardently at this moment, but my mouth was heavily shut like the stone cave Addis Ababa used to open with his magic word open sesame. I really liked that book by the way. Jack read it to me.

The night passed without another sound and I secretly cried because I missed Jack and nobody understood me. I think mum saw my tears but ignored them either out of annoyance or out of her own sorrow, which seems more plausible according to her ears.

The next morning, I hadn't slept at all because of the lingering voice in my brain telling me that Jack had forgotten about me. The sun enlightened the plains and the ringing bells glorified the quiet rural life –as Jack's father put it. Everything went on like it was supposed to, Jack's father came and went out with my mom and Russel to the plain. Jack finally came to my house and talked to me. He always did the talking and I never got to answer him. I wish we spoke the same language just for me to have a conversation with him. As a matter of fact, I speak to him all the time through body language but Jack never catches my body movements.

"You know what Mou, today is going to be super fun! It's Thanksgiving and Angelina's family is coming over for a feast! I love Thanksgiving! It brings family together"

In my head I answered: "I don't like Thanksgiving, it is always a bloody ritual for us"

Thanksgiving to us was a cursed day, a savage day, and a day that claims the lives of thousands of innocent beings. If only Jack knew what Thanksgiving was like to powerless beings like us, he would not embrace it as he does so now. I believe that Jack is a good, moral boy but that he simply does not know the truth behind certain happiness –happiness resulting from sacrifices.

"Jack, come on, we have to go. It's time for Angelina's family to come and I have to bring steak home so that mum can cook it right in time" said Jack's father.

"Steak? Why not turkey?"

"Because Molly's time is up and I sold our turkeys to Mr. Blake last week"

I didn't know what that meant. What did he mean by my mother's time was up? Whatever it is, it didn't sound so good. I starred at my mum out of fear and groaned with a low tone.

"Oh..." Jack hesitated with trembling eyes. I have never seen him uncertain like that before. His precarious energy permeated through my soul and made me nervous as hell. I had butterflies in my stomach. To express my anxiety, I pushed my head towards Jack's belly so that he could caress me.

"Okay... I guess I'll head home first" said Jack and walked away with heavy shoulders despite my affection. Then he abruptly ran back towards me and whispered in my ears: "I'm sorry Mou".

I was confused. What was he sorry for? But before I could even make another sound, he sprinted away from the plains and mounted on his father's car, still keeping those trembling look in his deep, blue eyes.

"Let's go Molly" cried Jack's father and pulled on my mum. Normally, my mum would not have resisted, but this time she yelled and fought as hard as she could. Violence quickly swept our house and Russel, who was in the car with Jack started bawling, running next to Jack's father who took out some peculiar tool that exacerbated my mother's screams. Lightening came out from this tool and each time the disgusting light touched my mother, she writhed in pain.

"Don't look kiddo! Get into your house!" cried Russel.

"What is wrong with my mum?" I asked with gigantic tears in my eyes.

"Nothing... She just doesn't want to be bathed"

I knew something was wrong. Russel was lying but just when I was about to confront Russel, Jack's father slammed the door in front of me, blocking my view. Since then, all I could hear was my mother's helpless cries until it faded. I don't know if she just decided to take a bath or Jack's father gave up but for one reason or another, the yelling and yanking all stopped. My mother did not return that night and I became very worried about her; so, I looked up into the sky and prayed to the moon to bring my mother safe home.

That night Mou, the 3 years old calf, did not know that that was his last sight of his mother. He slept quietly, with certainty that he would see her the next day while Jack, his family, and Angelina's family enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner with steak instead of turkey.