Of New Beginnings

• Ezra Morgan, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

The stars shone bright on endless rolling acres of the Australian outback. The landscape was dotted with red termite mounds, sparse shrubbery and the occasional eucalypt tree. Here and there were the curled up shapes of sleeping cows.

On the narrow dirt road that wound its way through the paddocks was a car. It was small and rusty, with crooked mirrors and a cracked windshield. The headlights were bright but it was nothing the cows had not seen before. None of them looked up.

The car stopped and, after a moment, a scruffy looking man got out. He staggered towards the fence that separated the paddock from the road and pushed his way under it. His progress was hindered by a bundle of cloth held loosely in his arms. He walked a few steps then stopped and dropped the bundle, which landed with a soft ‘thump.’ The man laughed raucously, turned and staggered back to his car.

For a while all was silent in the paddock. Still none of the cows bothered to look up. The night was cold and frost would be forming, were the air not so dry. Overhead the stars twinkled, continuing their silent vigil over the outback.

When the bundle was investigated, it was by a young calf. She approached the bundle slowly and gave it a careful sniff.

“Mother, it’s one of theirs, a human calf.”

One of the older cows raised her head, sleepily. “Stay away from it, Nina.”

“But mother, without fur it’ll freeze.”

When her mother spoke again, there was a bitter edge to her voice. “Let it freeze. One less human in the world will do us good.”

Nina looked into her mother’s eyes reproachfully. The older cow flinched and looked away. “You know that isn’t true. This is just a calf, it doesn’t yet know the horrible things the rest of its species does.”

Just when it looked like Nina had won the argument, they were interrupted by another voice.

“Kara, what’s all this. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Kara looked around at a dark brown cow with longer than average horns. “Nina found a human calf,” she said, carefully.

The other cow stiffened. “Why have you not killed it yet?”

Kara’s next words came out short and icy. “Because, Saro, it’s just a calf. Would you really have me kill it for the crimes of its species? Besides, it will probably have frozen to death come morning.”

Saro huffed. She hesitated for a moment. As much as she wished to see the calf dead, it would be unwise to cross Kara; if she wanted to protect this calf, then there was not one cow in the paddock who could stop her. “I hope it’s dead by the morning, for your sake,” she said, before turning to storm away.

When Saro had left, Nina timidly approached her mother. “Mummy, you’re not really going to let it die are you?”

Kara sighed. She could feel a tipping point, the two possible futures hanging off each answer. At last she spoke. “It would seem not.”