A pair of large, brown eyes blink open, squinting in a ray of light beaming through a crack in the shed’s wooden wall. It searches; glancing around in a primeval quest—for familiarity, for comfort. Within moments, it finds what it’s looking for.
The eyes looking back are tired. Encased in frames of skin deeply lined, partly by age but mostly by anguish, they cast a teary gaze at their imploring counterpart and turn away, unreciprocating.
“Mum?” croaks the little one. His voice is raspy, dry—like the cracking of a brand-new shoe first worn. He crawls over to her at the edge of the floor, where she rests against a wall.
“Mum,” he repeats. “I’m hungry.”
Groping around his mother’s frail body, he seeks his only source of sustenance.
“No,” she says, turning away to face the other side of the room. “Not today, Chubbs.”
But Chubbs has never felt this hungry before, and he can’t fathom why he’s being denied his mother’s care. “Why not?” he asks.
Just then, the shed door opens and a stream of midday light fills the space, shining upon several other captives lying scattered across the floor. They are all young adult females, like his mother, and they all jump at the sound of the door opening. Chubbs looks around at the sight of half a dozen slender, wasted bodies edging towards the corners of the room—where the walls are lined high with shelves of complex apparatus—in a weak attempt to escape the inevitable.
In through the door walks a large man, wearing long brown overalls and holding a leather whip, like he always does. But this time, he’s also wearing a large smile and holding the door open for the person behind him—which he never does.
Chubbs wonders what is different today, and he soon gets his answer. A little girl, followed by a pair of grownups, walks into the shed and pokes her curious nose in every direction. Her large eyes are filled with wonder, searching for something new, desperate to discover. She catches sight of the bodies huddled against the walls, hiding in the narrow strips of shadow they could find, and she squeals.
“Oooooh!” She whips around to face the grownup pair, who looks wary, and says, “Mummy! Daddy! Can I play with them, please-please-please?” She’s bouncing on her toes, nearly bursting in excitement.
The large man in overalls laughs. “What a darling! Sweet little thing you’ve got here,” he says to the couple. Then, turning to the girl, he says, “Of course you can play with them, sweetheart. Come,” he says, walking over to one of the corners, “I’ll even show you how to harvest them.”
The couple throw each other cautious looks, but don’t object. The visiting group approach the other side of the room from where Chubbs and his mother are, and proceed to do what the large man in overalls does every time he comes; he grabs a harvesting machine from a shelf, and a low whirring sound begins.
Chubbs looks at his mother. She’s quivering in a corner at the sound of the whirring machine, gripping onto the side of a water trough as if to steady herself. She’s hiding her face, as if to avoid being noticed.
“Mum?” asks Chubbs. “What’s going on? Who are they?”
This time, Chubbs’s mother responds. At the sound of his voice, her head lifts slightly. She looks at her son—an enquiring frown carved deep in between her brows—as though seeing him for the first time… and her stiff, shaking body starts to soften.
Deep into his eyes she looks, as realisation dawns upon her face, and her confusion is replaced by a tender, motherly love.
Another squeal is heard from across the room, followed by laughter. “Yuck!” shrieks the little girl. “You got that stuff all over my dress!” She stamps her foot on the ground in disgust, and begins to throw a tantrum.
“Now, now, sweetheart,” says her father. “It’s just a bit of milk. It’s the stuff you love, remember? It’s what goes into your cereal every morning…well, don’t drink it now, of course. It’s not safe for us until it’s been pasteurised…”
The visiting group is now moving across the room, led by the large man in overalls. “Come over here, my dear,” he says to the girl. “Here’s something that’ll cheer you up.”
As he walks straight towards Chubbs, Chubbs feels a tug on his arm and is pulled aside, straight into his mother’s arms. At the sight, the large man in overalls exhales a tired sigh, but the little girl jumps in joy. “Ohhh! Is that a baby one?” she cries. “It’s so cute! And look—its mother is protecting it! Isn’t that so sweet, mummy?” she says as she runs over to pet Chubbs.
“Now, my dear,” says the large man. “Don’t get too attached to this one, OK? It’s his last day today.”
“Last day?” asks the little girl’s mother. “On this farm? Where will it be taken to?”
“To another farm,” says the large man quickly, catching the little girl’s frown. “Why?” asks the girl. “Is it nicer there? Will he be harvested there, too?”
The large man laughs. “Uh, no…” he begins, but is cut off by the girl’s father. “Sweetheart,” says her father, softly. “Only females make the milk that we drink. The males don’t get harvested. They…” but he trails off, never finishing the sentence.
A deep, puzzled look is growing on the little girl’s face as she works hard to understand. She looks at Chubbs, who looks back at her as he snuggles warmly in his mother’s arms. “So, is he going to live on that farm until he grows old?”
The three adults look at one another, each unwilling to give the answer. Finally, her mother squats down beside her, and looks gently into her eyes. “Honey, don’t you worry about where he’s going. Just look how sweet and happy he is now…”
The little girl’s mother smiles as she turns to look at Chubbs. In that moment, as her eyes meets his, her smile seems to falter as she realises the weight of her words.
Chubbs looks at the girl’s mother, then at the large man in overalls, then at his own mother. “What are they saying, mum?” he asks.
“Oh, look,” says the girl’s father, chuckling slightly. “He made a sound. Isn’t that cute, honey?”
The visiting group doesn’t say much more after that. The little girl’s joy has been replaced by deep, unsettled thought, but no more questions are asked.
Several hours after the girl and her parents leave, the large man in overalls returns to the shed. This time, as the late afternoon light pours in through the door, the man heads straight towards Chubbs, who is still in the arms of his mother, who had finally allowed him to nurse from her teat.
There is a bit of a tussle, when the man grabs Chubbs and forces him out of his mother’s arms, but there’s no contest. He’s simply much too strong. The others watch the scene silently from the corners, as Chubbs is dragged out of the shed amidst his mother’s haunting wails.
Outside, the large man in overalls hurls Chubbs into a truck with other little male calves, and he’s never to be seen again.
