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“Number Fourteen, here please.” His mother’s fingers curled towards her, and Fourteen made his way to her side. “Mouth.”
Fourteen complied, opening his mouth for her inspection.
“Eyes.”
Fourteen stared upwards at her as she grabbed his chin, looking closely at his pupils.
“Ears.”
She plucked at his earlobe and angled his head to get a good look inside.
“Any unusual lumps or pains?”
Fourteen shook his head.
“Good, now back to your room.”
Fourteen nodded and headed back into his room. The gas streamed into the space via the air vents as the door closed behind him, sealing tightly shut with a mass of vines. Fourteen was used to the gas now. It smelled like sweets and made his nose hairs tingle. After the inspection, Fourteen knew that the gas would be here until lunch. Picking up the nearby teddy bear and wooden blocks, he passed the time playing with them.
“Don’t worry, Thirteen, the gas time will be over soon.” Fourteen hugged the teddy and poised it on top of a tower of blocks, making it jump off and fly through the air.
“Fourteen. It’s lunchtime. Step away from the door.”
Fourteen complied, staying close to the centre of the room. The gas stopped, and a rush of normal air pushed the sweetness away from him. The vines unravelled and the door slid open, revealing his other mother. She was his favourite. Less ugly than his other mothers, she was the one who cooked him his food, and who was called to comfort him when he got too upset. Her hands and fingers were just as bumpy as his other mothers’, but he’d gotten used to it.
“How has your morning been, Fourteen?” She reached out a hand for him, and they walked through the hallway together, towards the dining room.
“Ok. Me and Thirteen played together,” Fourteen sniffed, clearing the last of the sweetness from his nostrils, “I finished my book yesterday. Can I get another from the library today, Mummy?”
“Of course, Fourteen. I’ll take you there after you’ve eaten.” She smiled. Her smile made her face glow and Fourteen thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The dining room was big. It had three long tables with benches enough for at least ten other children, Fourteen thought. Though, there had only ever been about five of them at any given time. Fourteen had seen many of them come and go, and they never got to spend too much time together, but it made him happy to know there were others just like him living with his mothers. The only other child he spent much time with was Thirteen, but they arrived at Mothers’ together, so they made an exception.
Fourteen shuffled onto the bench and waited patiently. His mother brought out a plate with bread and a small bowl of soup. It was always soup. Different flavours, but always soup for lunch.
“It’s your favourite today, Fourteen. Carrot and potato soup!” His mother placed the food in front of him and placed the spoon in his hand. “Enjoy!”
As Fourteen took a spoonful of soup and slurped it up, his mother made her way out of the dining room. There was only one other child at lunch today. There were three yesterday, Fourteen thought. Shrugging, he continued eating his food alone, occasionally sharing glances with the other child. He knew he shouldn’t make friends. It made it too hard when they eventually didn’t show up again. His mothers said they went to other families, but Fourteen knew that wasn’t true. He would always nod in agreement if they said it, but he knew where they went. After what happened to Thirteen, he would never forget.
Having finished his food, Fourteen pushed the bowl away and drummed the table with his fingers. The other child had barely even started eating his own food. Fourteen didn’t think it was that strange. He remembered struggling to eat the food during his first few weeks at Mothers’. The soup was awfully bland, and the vegetables were never cooked through properly, not to mention the crusty bone-dry bread.
“You should make sure to finish all your food. It makes the gas easier to deal with,” Fourteen said to the other child.
The child nodded and continued struggling through their meal, each bite harder than the last.
After a few more minutes, Fourteen’s least favourite mother came to collect him. She was ugly, cold, and was the one who did the injections. Fourteen hated the injections. They made him feel like he was drowning in hot sludge, and there was nothing to do but accept the feeling. He learnt that after the second time, when he was sick and passed out from coughing and wheezing too much.
She never spoke to him. Not one word. She just dragged him to and from his room whenever she needed him. He wondered where they were going, back to his room, or to her room. Her room was dark and stank like rotten fruit. Turning the corner, she pulled him past his room and towards her own. Fourteen took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting her drag him to his fate.
She placed him on the chair in the centre of the room and strapped his wrists down. Collecting the needle from the nearby tray, she tapped its side with her long misshapen fingernail. That sound haunted Fourteen. It was the sound that preceded the injection, every time, without fail. Taking another deep breath, Fourteen relaxed his muscles, feeling the sharp scratch as the needle penetrated his skin. The feeling was immediate. His muscles seized up and his eyes shot open, bulging out of his head. His mother left the room, as she always did at this point, and left him to suffer. Shaking uncontrollably, Fourteen let the feeling seep into his being, making sure to take long, deliberate breaths despite the sensation of breathlessness that assailed him. Fifteen minutes later, his mother returned and unstrapped him. Taking some notes and poking and prodding him with metal sticks finished the ordeal. She escorted him back to his room, and waiting at his door was his favourite mother, ready to take him to the library.
Fourteen flicked through the small selection of children’s books that counted for about one bookcase of five total. He had read them all. Placing his old book back on the shelf, he turned and tugged on his mother’s dress.
“Yes, Fourteen?”
“I finished all the books. Can I pick one from the other shelves?”
“All of them? Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ok then.” She wandered around the rest of the library, humming, and perusing the occasional book. “How about this one?”
Fourteen read the title, An Exploration of The Human Body. Flicking through it, he could see a multitude of pictures, all hand drawn and labelled, and some even in colour. “Ok, Mum.” He took the book and turned back to the library door.
They walked back to his room, and with a kiss goodbye, Fourteen was returned to solitude. After thinking about it, Fendrick realised that book was his favourite.
