Chapter Six: Son of Smith

As I neared the farm, I could smell so many things on the air at once it drove my senses crazy. But there was one thing in particular that caught my attention, the scent of food. I bounded as quick as I could to the source and found myself looking up at a long wooden trough, filled with slop. As watched the pigs eating greedily, I could swear I could feel my stomach grumbling, wherever it was. I coiled my body up into a spring and leapt into the trough. Within moments I had somehow sucked in the entire contents of the long trough, and laid in it contentedly. I had absorbed it all so fast I could barely taste it, which was probably for the best. Upon seeing me slurp up their food in on motion, the pigs ran squealing from the trough and huddle in the corner of their fenced in area.

The squealing stopped abruptly and all of the pigs turned towards the gate, as heavy footfalls shook the trough. I snapped out of my contented haze and began to tremble in the trough, like water in an earthquake. A large gruff man appeared, towering over me as I sank back into one corner of the trough. He stood there staring at me as I shook with fear imagining the worst. “You gunna sit there tremblin’ all day boy, or are you gunna git outta my trough so I can feed my pigs?” I inched closer, unsure of what to think of the gruff man standing over me. “Well? Can ya talk, or are ya another one o’them wild ones?” I sat there silent, unsure of what he meant. “I..I can talk” I said, my voice trembling as much as my body, if not more so. He just looked down and smiled.

“Well I’ll be damned. Bet you aren’t s’posed to be out here, are you boy?”  “I..don’t know. I don’t know who I am, or even what I am.” At that moment, something glimmered in his eyes, and attempted to scoop me into his hands, but I fell through them like water. “well I can’t git you outta there myself, but if you crawl on outta there, ill fix you up a right meal, instead’a that pig slop.” The warmth in his eyes and the soothing tone of his voice calmed me, and I was able to get enough control of my body to spill over the side of the trough and onto the ground at his feet. He chuckled and walked away, looking over his shoulder at me. “Come on into the house when you’re ready boy. I’ll be waitin.”

I wanted to get up and follow him, but I still had no legs, and I was tired of dragging myself everywhere. That’s it! I thought, I’m not going in there until I can walk like he can! I began to force my body to shift and contort, I stretched out this way and that, but I couldn’t get it right. One leg always came out too short, or crooked, or just too limp to support me. I didn’t know how he did it, and it frustrated me to no end. Finally a young piglet came over and began sniffing at me, and an idea came to mind. I pushed out four short tendrils, and positioned them beneath me, took a deep breath, and pushed myself up. I tested out each “leg” lifting it up and putting it down. The piglet was startled as I lifted myself up, and shaped the rest of my body into what could be compared to something like a potato on toothpicks.

As I watch the small pig run, I paid close attention to how its legs moved, and began trying to copy the motions. I fell over the first few times, but after about the fifth try, I got it and began prancing around the pig pen. I did it! I'm walking! Maybe it’s not the same as he did, but its close enough for now. I thought joyfully. Thinking about the man reminded me that he had invited me into his home for dinner, and I speed-walked over towards the small shack, still too new at walking to attempt an all-out run. As I reached the door, I sprouted a “tail” and knocked, still too nervous to just waltz in. the man answered the door, and looked down to see me on all fours, as my new tail wound into a curl like the pigs I had seen. “Well hot damn, you’re a quick learner, aint cha? That’s quite the transformation there. Come on in, I got a hot meal cookin. Though you look ready to hit the slop with the rest’o the pigs.” He laughed at his own joke, and waved me in.

As I trotted in, I took in the entire shack, small but homey. The place was filled with tools and knick-knacks. A large hammer rested upon a shelf next to some horseshoes, and next to it was a grey picture of an old man who looked somewhat like the one I was with now. There was a bright fire burning in an old wood stove, and I could smell ham and vegetables cooking. I couldn’t believe I was hungry again already, but the food smelled amazing. He walked in, closing the door behind him, “Yea I know it aint much, but it’s home.” He smiled and placed a plate of food on the floor in front of me. “Eat up, there’s plenty.” I quickly ate the only way I knew how; I pushed the front of my body down onto the plate and sucked the food straight into me.

 “Thank you very much for the food sir!” I said happily. He smiled as he sat down in a chair in front of the stove, and began to speak, “you ain’t gotta call me sir. The name’s Smith. I gotta first name, but no one ever used it. I live alone in this here shack, save a few animals, and I like that just fine. The world’s a crazy place outside these here woods. I should know, lost a whole family to it. My wife and son.” He picked up and old picture frame on the small table next to him, and stared at it with sad eyes. “I’m..I’m so sorry sir..i mean, Smith”  He let out a small, sad chuckle, “Don’t be son. It happens. What I'm interested in is you. How’s a little blob like you get all the way out here from the facility, which is the only place something like you coulda came from.” I looked up from my plate, confused. “The facility? What’s that?”  He laughed again and looked at me, “I suppose I don’t rightly know myself. Always too much of a chicken to go down there and find out. A few things slip out now and then though. Big ol’ critters, always tearin’ up my livestock. They never stick around long though, my guess is that facility finds em’ and drags em’ back. I bet they’re pullin their hair out lookin for you. You don’t exactly seem like the kinda thing they’d just let disappear.” He stood up and walked over to the window, staring out it as if making sure no one was around.

 “Personally, I think it might be best if you stayed here. Whatever that place is, it ain’t no good. That much I'm sure of. But you don’t know what ya are, so maybe I can raise ya ta be somethin’ else.” He came back over to me and patted me on what he figured was my head. “Livin alone’s made me a sad old man over the years. I ain’t got much time left, and I never did contribute much to the world. It’s time I did somethin’ worthwhile. How’d you like to stay here, and be my son?” He smiled warmly at me, and for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged somewhere. I leapt into his arms, wriggling and wagging my tail, “I’d love to! You mean it!? I can stay?!” He laughed and hugged me close to him, “well o’course you can stay. I asked ya, didn’t I?”

That night, smith made me a small bed near the stove and I fell asleep, bathed in the fire’s warm glow. Smith just sat in his chair, watching over me and smiling, holding the picture of his family long since passed.