The Feeders

6 - The World Melts

Salem shuts the basement door behind us, leaving our ghastly parents secured inside. I can hear the wood groan as they pull the chains tight and thrash against them like wild animals. My eyes are wide, remembering how strong mom was when she was trying to attack me, and knowing dad's strength--all his years as a cop. He took work seriously, and stayed fit. He didn't fill up on donuts or anything else the way most people picture cops. He was muscular. Mom, a busy woman, was a nurse and a yoga instructor, a combination which kept her fit. Though they don't seem to remember any of this, neither of them are holding back for fear of hurting themselves, the way a healthy person in their right mind would. Their natural strengths are amplified--cranked up from sane to the max.

"It's fine," Salem says. "I bolted them in. The wood is thick. It would take a bulldozer to pull it down."

I nod.

"Now what?" I ask.

     I'm way passed pretending I don't need his guidance. I'm lost. I'm confused. I need him to get us out of this. I need him to show me how to make it all better.

     "I'll, erm, I'll get the meat, I guess," he says. "I'll sneak over and snatch one of Mr, Carpenter's pigs. Stay with them, but don't go down without me."

     I nod with a numb, dumb look on my face. In my mind, my parents are in pain. I hear them fighting against the chains, and what I see is them trying to get to safety. I see them imagining we're attacking them, hiding them away simply because they're sick. I feel so guilty.

     I slide down the wall that's pressed against my back. It stands firm, which surprises me, because I could have sworn the whole world was melting around me.

     I don't know how long I sat there staring blankly at our old floral wallpaper in the hallway. When I hear the ruckus from the living room, I get up. Salem had come inside with a live pig. It's thrashing and squealing fiercely, as if it knows what it has been chosen for.

     "Hurry and open the basement door," Salem says.

     My heart aches. I hate the thought of anything bad happening to an animal, especially when I've seen it alive and have a hand in leading it to it's death. The look of guilt must be on my face.

     "It's no different than you eating bacon, Jan, just think of it that way," he says.

     "My bacon is already dead," I mumble, but I go ahead and lead the way toward the basement door.

     I know my parents need this nourishment, and their lives are more important to me than the life of this poor unfortunate pig.

     "Sorry, fella," I say sadly, then I open the door and look away.

     I hear it hit the floor and take off down the stairs. Chains rattle, the pig goes quiet. By the time I muster up enough nerve to look, I see my father in view of the door, chewing a chunk of pig. My mother is leaning over the carcass. My stomach clenches. He stops chewing and spits the chunk out. My mother lets everything fall out of her mouth. They forget about the pig and continue to fight and groan for release.

     "Crap!" says Salem.

     I close the door, tears streaming down my face.

     "Why didn't it work?" I demand.

     "I don't know..."

     "What do we do? Do you think something was wrong with that one?"

     "That was the healthiest one they had."

"Maybe they won't need anything...maybe the cure will come soon and-"

"Come with me. I have to show you something," Salem says all serious.

The way he looks, I'm not sure I want to see what he needs to show me...