Geepling

By Lana Petelis

Mother-Nature gives rise to some yet restrains others...
Survival of the fittest species is the winner.
But what about those left in between, with no species of their own?
How must they rummage through a world that has turned away?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483567440

Lana Petelis

* no bio per au

Book preview

29

1

Once, on a warm spring day, the kind of day that breathes new life into the world, the kind of day often celebrated by the chirping of birds (but not on this day), a babe was born to its mother.

On this day, instead of chirping, the birds sang a different tune, calling for nature’s attention, to alert it to the birth of a rare-looking creature. The babe slept tranquil by his mother’s side, hidden safely in her warmth, until the pangs of hunger would awaken him once again.

His mother, exhausted from the long night’s work of bringing the babe into the world, gazed at him with concern. She tightened her hold. She felt the fear that had plagued her since the first moment she learned of the life growing inside her, a life the world had never borne witness to before. But it wasn’t the world she feared most; rather it was the lack of time. What she prayed for more than anything was time: time to spend with her new babe, to safeguard him from the dreadful future that lay before him—a future she knew was unavoidable.

But she had no idea; his life would be much worse than she could have ever imagined. The offspring absorbing her warmth, oblivious to the world around him, was to live a life of solitude. Even his natural given instincts would be of little comfort.

But who would do such a thing, to allow an innocent creature to endure such injustice?

2

The young mother was hurt and desperate. A few more days to nurse were all she needed.

She had to summon enough strength to find the structure.

She knew she was getting close; something was beginning to look familiar. She had to stop to nurse once again, but it had to be quick—the two had been walking for days, keeping low in order not to waken any unwanted woodland occupants in their path.

Where are we going, mama? asked the tyke, kicking a shiny grey stone out of the way.

I will tell you once we get there.

By nightfall, they had found their destination. The house stood dark and quiet. Most of the residents were already asleep, except for some doting mothers singing to their young. It was a song she had heard many times before.

Her little babe was too tired to go any further.

Can’t we just rest a little bit here? he said, pointing to a tree nearby.

But she knew the dangers lurking in the deceivingly muted woods.

We are almost there, she said, nudging him softly forward.

The pair was too exhausted for any discussions of their new residence. It would have to wait till morning.

They found a soft spread of grass and made it their bed for the night.

3

The shelter she so desperately searched for was the Friendly Utopian Farm. The breeders there raised goats and sheep mostly for the animals’ high-quality wool. There was also an old mule that seemed out of place on the farm; its job was to plow the land.

The animals lived together cordially in their daily tasks of raising their young, in their constant, never-changing routine. That is, at least as long as each animal kept to its zone.

Of all the things they treasured, the animals’ individual zones were what they treasured most, preserving it for the next generation. Each member was taught from infancy the zone he or she belonged to.

And not much had changed. As soon as the new mother walked through the gates to the barn, it was clear. Change was still unwelcome in the Friendly Utopian Farm. Each animal slept in each pre-determined zone.

So the mother’s fears for her babe were completely exaggerated, or so it seemed. It wasn’t until that fateful day of when she returned with her new babe, the animals’ true nature was revealed.

The bonding between mother and offspring was short lived. The morning stirred the animals from their sleep. Sam, one of the farm helpers, came in to fill the bins with the animals’ breakfast, a mixture of wheat, clovers, and barley, and spotted the two visitors, who were still asleep from the ordeal.

Jim, come here, you won’t believe who I found! Jim was the owner of the farm. He quickly walked towards the entrance where the food bin was located to see what the commotion is about.

It can’t be! Is that Mirabelle the old sheep? I thought she ran off months ago.

Jim liked Mirabelle; he could always rely on her to give him her best wool.

Yeah, but look at who or what is sleeping next to her, Sam said. Have you ever seen anything like this in your life? That’s definitely unlike any sheep I’ve ever seen.

I’ve heard about this, but I thought it was just a myth. If that’s what I think it is, it’s not a sheep at all. I don’t know how or when, but it looks like our Mirabelle took a liking to the wild goat, he said, stunned by the new arrival.

That, my friend, Jim continued, "is a