We Are Never Knowingly Undersold

I was led out of the darkness, into the light; an artificial light that hurt my eyes. Once the shock from that invasion subsided, it was the sounds that came to the fore as I walked down the tunnel – a cauldron of chatter, children screaming, a distant nursery rhyme jingle, different forms of music blasting from the different windows we passed as I continued forward.

         I was alone yet surrounded by many others like me. I recognised their forms from my books I read back in my place, the pictures I studied by candlelight. Looking back from where I came, I could not see my father. Or could I? He never entered my place, and the light coming through the slat had always pierced my vision whenever I tried to peer out to see his face. Although I always heard his voice.

         “This one is for Rosati Falls. August 17th. When’s yours?”

         While I don’t think I could see my father, his chain was still around my neck. Inching forward as it tightened around my throat, I was stunned by what I was seeing around me. Glass-fronted places, filled with various items that I had only seen in my readings. I passed one that seemed to be full of books like mine. So that’s where they come from? And people. Others like me, leafing through the pages as I passed. I wish I could stop, but onward…down the tunnel. Looking around, that’s all there were. Tunnels after tunnels, stacked on top of each other, all leading in different directions like some maze. If it wasn’t for the tight chain, I would be spinning around to take all this in.

         The mister pulling me suddenly stopped. I was in a clearing and felt the loosening of the chain. I staggered around but my movements were restricted to a circular radius. Walking within my allowed space, I was aware I was in the centre of the place; an area which all the glass tunnels seemed to lead into and out of. It wasn’t the only thing I was aware of.

         “Hey mummy…look!”

         The first one to notice me; rosy-cheeked and blue-mouthed from the melting thing in his hand. The mummy quickly grabbed the boy’s wrist and pulled him away as others turned to look, expressions of awe and something like… disgust.

         I didn’t like the attention, the pointing, the distance opening up around me.  Stop it.  I wanted them to stop looking at me, stop their pointing. Why were they pointing? Why can’t they go away? Why…

         “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

         Silence.

         Everyone stopped talking. But more people now noticing me. Gathering around, sullen faces intermingled with shocked ones. But amongst them, one started to break. A teenage girl with her friends, her mouth gradually splitting into a smile. Then…

         “Mweeeeth mwee mwallllooonnne!”

         It sounded mocking. Her friends started sniggering along, giving way to full-blown laughter. The rest of the crowd followed, jabbing their fingers and sneering.

         I could feel my body shaking. Why were they doing this? Where was I? I can’t…

         I went down to the floor, covering my face to shield me from the taunts. I could feel my eyes filling up with…

         Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

         “There there, my son. It’s all ok”.

         I opened my stinging eyes to put a face to the voice that I recognised so well. So this is what he looked like.

         Kind eyes. A wholesome warm smile. He pulled me to my feet and carefully caressed my face, wiping away the strange moisture coming from my eye.

         “You’re alright. You’ll be just fine, my boy”.

         His words, accompanied by a reassuring nod, meant the world to me. I smiled back at him.

         He didn’t seem to register this as he turned his back to me, facing the crowd. As he did, I saw him raise something to his mouth.

         His voice. Suddenly louder. Much louder.

         “Ladies and gentlemen. Please do not be alarmed”.

         Alarmed?

         “I present to you today’s exhibit; a beautiful specimen that, as you can see, has not been around these parts for some time”.

         Exhibit?

         “And today, it can be all yours. Just imagine the scenes at your gatherings. Your family will be amazed. Your friends will be a portrait of envy. They will want their own but…”

         He continued as more and more people got closer. Mouths agape, eyes fixed on me, burrowing into me. I was no longer listening until I felt his hand grabbing my arm.

         “…and this muscle. Just look at it. The sheer strength of it. It can move rock, machinery, stock, anything you want. And since the Commonplace Citizen Act went into force last year, you need to seek other ways of getting your labour. More local sources. And CHEAPER! Affordable workers that will not cause…”

         He relinquished his grip on my arm, distracted by a mister thrusting his arm up into the air.

         “YOU SIR! FIFTEEN THOUSAND!”

         The mister stepped forward as another voice, a lady’s voice, cried…

         “TWENTY THOUSAND!”

         And more.

         “THIRTY THOUSAND!!

         “THIRTY-TWO!”

         More and more cries. Misters and ladies stepping forward, all swarming in around me. Unable to move, I wanted to go. Away from this place, these people, these...

         Finally, father spoke.

         “Eighty-Seven Thousand!!!  Going once. Going twice…”

         He paused. Looking around, surveying the crowd. A smile.

         “SOLD!!! To the gentleman here!”

         A mister moved forward; unsmiling, fierce eyes. He stepped towards my father and shook his hand. They traded words. I did not know what they were saying. I heard small details.

         “Nah, you’re fine. I brought my own. I wasn’t going to be denied and was willing to pay more if I had to”.

         On this, the mister whistled, and I heard something mechanical begin to move.

         Backing up, parting the crowd on its way as the mister approached its rear. He whistled again and the vehicle stopped on his signal. Approaching the back, he unlatched the doors.

         “Look mummy. I told you!”

         I turned to the voice. The little boy returning, dragging his mummy with one hand and holding a book with the other. He stopped in front of me.

         “It is, mummy, it is!  Look, it’s what I thought it was!”

         The boy opened the book and thrust it in his mummy’s face. I could just about make out the title.

         ‘The Little Pioneer Book of Greek Mythology’

         “It’s…it’s...it’s…

         He swung the book away from her face and, clasping with both hands, held the pages of the book in front of me.

         “…it’s a minotaur!!”

         The image was of some creature. Hands like mine. Feet like mine.  But the face… that monstrous, huge face. It was so different from those around me, and the ones immediately looking at me now. The mummy had joined her son in staring at me, her head turned slightly to the side. I looked away from the strange picture in the book, into her eyes and, for just a moment, saw her begin to smile.

And then I was suddenly jerked backwards to the floor. I gathered myself and looked up to see three misters ferociously pulling the chain, including my father.

I think I called out to him as I was dragged towards the box.

Towards the darkness.   

Again.

W.A. Parkin is a British author, based in Sheffield. He primarily writes short fiction, but has also written film criticism and worked as a theatre director.