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"Bovine Parents"

EPILOGUE

The young calf sat by a stream, all on his lonesome. This was supposed to be a happier day. His thirteenth birthday celebrations had come and gone in the morning, now he was alone with his thoughts, and his doubts.

He felt a little sick. Out-of-place. Did all teenagers feel like this? He never recalled seeing his brothers so down, was he too young at the time to notice?

The rushing water helped to calm him. He closed his eyes and listened. Where it flowed over the rocks and plunged back into itself there was a gushing, gurgling sound. The regularity of it soothed him. He could sit here and listen to it forever.

A rustling of leaves alerted him to another presence. He whipped his head 'round to see his father approach. The elder bull's black fur sported several tell-tale tufts of grey. Beyond that, time did little to weather him. To the boy and his brothers growing up he was the strongest, wisest, 'bestest' dad anyone could ever ask for.

"Hi dad."

"Been lookin' for ya," he spoke softly, "your mom was worried. You seemed a bit upset earlier."

"Yeah, I guess..."

The older bull sat down beside his son, wrapping an arm around him in a fatherly gesture. The pair watched the stream together.

"Conor, if there's something you want to tell me--"

"I don't wanna be like this!" The words were fast out of his mouth, and had a sting to them.

"What is 'this'?" his father asked.

"THIS!" A fierce flurry of limbs followed, showing his dad what he meant. "Moo! Everything!" He started to sob. "I don't wanna be like_this_..."

His father realised what he was saying. "A bull. A hybrid. That's what you mean, right? That you don't want to be...well...what we are now."

"Yeah..." Conor cried.

"C'mere," his father hugged him, holding him dearly, "what's gotten into you?"

"Everyone's so happy with who they are. Everyone! It's not fair!"

"Why?" his father gave him a concerned look. Conor buried his head in his fur.

"When...when we grow up, we're supposed to be big and strong right? So we can farm? Everyone else is really big and strong and I'm not. Mom, Caleb, James...you..." He cursed his light, slender build.

"You'll grow into it, I promise," his father reassured him. "You've only starting your teenage years. That's a long time to spend all of it worryin'."

"What if I don't!? What if I'm always skinny? What if I'm always shorter than everyone else?"

"That doesn't mean you won't fit in."

"Yeah it does," he cried, "nobody's allowed leave the herd-lands! I'm stuck here with Caleb, and James, and all the other kids!"

The older bull picked up on his son's hint. "They've been bullying you, haven't they?"

"Uh-huh," Conor sniffed.

"They've been callin' you names?"

"Runt. Weakling."

"I see," he held his son close, "does it ever get physical?"

"They push me and trip me and laugh."

"I'm disappointed. Not in you, son. Not in you. But your brothers. They should be looking out for you. I'll have to have a word with the other herd-leaders about this, they need to sit their calves down for a talk as well."

"You mean it?"

"I do, son." He kissed the top of Conor's head. "I do. Something tells me that's not the only thing you've been worried about."

He nodded, turning away.

"Mooh, son, what's wrong?"

Conor shut his eyes, stemming the oncoming tears for a brief while. He was silent. His father's concern grew.

"Are...are you afraid to tell me?"

His son's eyes said it all. Small wonder he was able to gather to courage to speak up.

"I hate the farm."

"Conor--"

"I hate living in the countryside. I hate having to walk a mile to school, where all the other calves are mean to me! I hate not being able to go places. All these humans I see on TV can do cool stuff, and I'm stuck here...I don't even want to be a farmer..."

"Son, you know why we keep ourselves secret."

"I do, dad, I do. But," he sniffed again, "I wanna be a normal kid. Go to a normal school. With a normal mom and dad."

Like any icy dagger it cut through his father.Normal. The sad part was: it's true.

"I understand, son. We might have half a state to ourselves -- the only humans you've met being from Bovinex -- beyond that...nothing. I'm not angry at you for sayin' that."

"You...you aren't?"

"Nope. I love you, you know that, and I wanna see you do well in life. If that means you're unhappy here then nothing I can say otherwise can change that." He grinned. "I lied, there is one thing..."

"What?"

"I've never told anyone, but it's something I've been planning for a long time."

Conor's eyes lit up. Dad was going to clue him in to something important! Excitement drowned out his prior sorrow. "What is it, dad?" he asked eagerly.

"Sometime soon we won't be such a big secret anymore."

"Seriously!? But, but the humans! Won't they hate us? We're different!"

"They might. Some won't. Some definitely will. But there's a lot of us now. Many herds. Many families. And we have power."

"How?"

The bull chuckled. "Conor, you've never really paid attention to what I do, have you?"

"No...uh...why? Don't you own our farm?"

"Oh, my job's much more than that. You know the State Governor?"

"The human lady with the short brown hair?"

"That's the one. Now, think back to your classes, you learned about government, right?"

"Yeah. Each state in Unimerica has a Governor, elected by the citizens, and they're responsible for the maintenance of public services, the polices force, and since the Decentralisation Act Of 2078 the local armed forces..." he rattled off his civics lesson verbatim.

"Well, you old man is kinda like the Governor."

"Wait...dad...you're in charge of everyone!?"

"I am. Every hybrid. They all answer to me."

"Whoa! That's so cool. But why aren't you on TV like she is?"

"We are still hiding from the rest of the world y'know."

"Oh yeah. But you said we won't be much longer."

"I did."

"Does that mean I'll be able go to new places!"

"You can. It even means you can find what you truly want to do in life. Out there, in the big wide world."

His son's eyes glazed over, enthralled with the prospect of no longer being bound to the family's land. Tommy lifted his son up.

"Dad. Dad! When's it gonna happen?"

"Okay, son, rule number one. Don't ask 'are we there yet' all the god-damn time. Any news on it I'll tell ya, but you gotta keep it to yourself, okay?"

"Okay."

Conor was treated to a ride home, piggy-backing on his father. Holding his dad's horns to keep himself steady, he took advantage of his temporary tallness to watch other hybrids work the fields. Ploughing the tough soil for next year's harvest, they grunted and groaned as they exerted themselves. He knew a couple of calves who belonged to the herd here, they weren't mean like the others -- maybe he'll make friends with them...and then they could go an adventures...

"Mooh. Let's get you back home. There's food leftover if you want to eat. At least, if your Aunt Clara hasn't gotten her greedy mitts on it."

With his youngest son propped up on his shoulders, Thomas Reimond walked off into the distance.