The Gastropoda Imperative by Peter Barns (parable of the sower read online txt) 📕

“Lyra,” she said.

“How’s that?”

“My name. It’s Lyra.”

“Oh I see.”

They stood looking at each other for a moment. Lyra noticed the man’s gaze flicking here and there around the shed. She felt a little uneasy in the silence.

“Do you want me to take care of the others while I’m here? The sheep and pig and chickens, like?”

“I’ve already fed the sheep and let the chickens out,” Lyra said, picking up the bucket of milk. “And I can’t pay you or anything,” she added, edging towards the door.

“That’s okay. The misses will pay me when she gets out of hospital. She told me that her sister and niece were coming down to look after things while she was away. And to help you out, if you needed anything.”

Lyra was outside the shed now and feeling less nervous. She could see that he didn’t seem dangerous or anything. It was just that he acted a bit odd, his eyes always active, as though they couldn’t settle in one place for more than a second.

“Okay then. Thanks for your help. I’ll just take this inside.”

“Make sure you filter it then,” he called after her. “Do you want me to come back this afternoon and do the milking? Put the animals away for you?”

Lyra twirled back to face him, a wide smile on her face. “That would be brilliant,” she shouted back.

Running into the cottage, Lyra filtered the milk, then washed up the dishes from last nights dinner. Her mother had left early this morning and wouldn’t be back until well after dark tonight. With Piers taking care of the animals, she’d have all day to hang out with her new friends. Great.

Making herself some breakfast, Lyra sat eating it out in the garden. The sun was up now, but last night’s TV had forecast rain for today. After washing up the breakfast things, she piled some dirty clothes into the washing machine and walked through to the shower room.

The cottage had two guest rooms upstairs, with small en-suites. Downstairs was her aunt’s bedroom, a tiny room she called her study, a nice newly renovated shower room, and a kitchen/diner. Leading off the kitchen was an enormous lounge with a log burning fire.

Lyra loved the cottage, in fact all the smallholding. She was even beginning to feel comfortable around the animals. And now that she’d found herself some new friends to hang out with, life in the country didn’t seem so bad after all.

Her face flushed slightly as she took a shower, recalling the way Troy had looked at her the last time they’d been together. After her shower she went up to the bedroom and changed the bed.

,As she was searching about in the bottom of the wardrobe for clean bed-sheets, Lyra found an enormous old metal trunk. It was full of women’s clothes. Pulling some out she saw that they were not the sort her aunt would ever wear. Shrugging, Lyra began to put the clothes back, but as she did, something fell from one of the pockets, landing on the wooden floor with a clatter.

Picking the object up she saw it was a USB pen-drive. Turning it over in her hand she spotted something scratched on the surface. It looked like a name. Taking the pen-drive to the window, she angled it against the light.

Lexi.

Crossing back to the box, Lyra dropped the pen-drive on top of the clothes and closed the lid, wondering if perhaps her aunt had a daughter called Lexi. She knew her husband had died a couple of years ago. Yes that must be it.

Henry and Elliot Conner raced along the beach, shrieking loudly. They were almost out of sight of their mother, but not quite.

She sat back down on the blanket after checking what they were up to and chuckled. “They’re fine,” she said to herself. “Just playing.”

It looked as though the twins were getting ready to dig their way through to Australia. The little devils were always getting up to mischief but she loved them anyway, more than life itself. Smiling, she lay back on the blanket and sighed. It was so nice to be able to spend a day away from the city for a change. She should bring the kids here more often, the poor mites hardly ever got to have a holiday these days. She’d have to ring Don again. The damned man was always falling behind with his maintenance payments. It was really unfair on the twins.

Back along the beach, Henry - the oldest twin by thirty seconds, so always in charge - ordered his brother to get into the deep pit they’d dug in the sand. Elliot jumped in and knelt, closing his eyes as his brother shovelled sand on top off him. Pretty soon Elliot was buried up to his chest and both twins were laughing uproariously.

“I’m going to make a sandcastle out of you,” Henry said, jumping up and down in his excitement at having his brother just where he wanted him.

“Henry, Elliot.” Their mother’s voice floated across the beach to them on the wind. “I’m just going back to the car to get something. Don’t go wandering off now. I won’t be a minute. We’ll go and get some ice-creams when I get back. Okay?”

The twins were too busy having fun to answer her, but she could see they were all right. Shaking her head at the way Henry always seemed to dominate Elliot when they were playing, she walked off, searching along the sand dunes. Maybe she’d need to talk to their teachers about that.

In truth, Janet Conner wasn’t headed for her car. She needed to go to the toilet, but could hardly shout that out across the beach. You never knew who might be lurking about taking in the sun. She looked back to check on the twins again one last time, then moved off towards a likely looking private place she had spotted.

Something was moving under Elliot, tickling his knees. He looked up at his brother and giggled, sticking his tongue out. He was buried so deeply in the sand now that he couldn’t move and was finding it difficult to breathe - just his head poking out.

Back by the cliffs the sand shifted slightly, the fine particles moving across one another as, first one bulge, then another, then another appeared. Something was pushing upwards from beneath the yellow surface.

Unaware, the brothers continued to play. Henry was now running around his brother’s exposed head, holding the small spade he’d used to bury him like a spear, jabbing at the air, whooping war chants. He stopped, bending over to catch his breath, hands on knees, spade forgotten on the sand. Henry suffered from sporadic bouts of asthma, and all the shouting and whooping had made him breathless.

Behind Henry the bulges had now become long runnels. Whatever was making them was moving away from the cliffs and heading straight towards the playing boys.

“Okay. Dig me out now Henry.”

Henry was still trying to get his breath back and didn’t seem to hear his brother.

“Henry. I’ll tell mum if you don’t let me out. She’ll be angry. You know she will.”

Something rose out of the sand behind Henry, hitting him on the back of his calf. He squealed loudly - just one more squeal amongst the many he’d given that day as they played. A second slap on his other thigh sent the small boy stumbling forward.

Eyes unfocused, limbs flailing, Henry swayed on his feet, as though having trouble staying upright. After a few seconds of wavering, his eyes closed and he fell forwards across his brother. As he fell, Henry hit his temple on the sharp edge of the spade, slicing a long piece of flesh from his scalp. He appeared not to feel a thing and just lay where he’d fallen, unmoving.

Under his brother’s inert body, Elliot was struggling to breathe. Henry was pushing his face down into the sand and he started to panic. “Stop it Henry. Get off me,” he shouted, but the sand filled his mouth, making it difficult to speak. “Let me up. I can’t breathe.”

Henry didn’t answer his twin’s plea.

Elliot couldn’t see, his face now completely covered with sand, so he didn’t know that half his brother’s small body had already disappeared. The rest would soon follow.

It was then that Elliot felt the first stinging bite on his calf. He struggled all the harder, but it did him little good. The sand churned beside his leg as more and more creatures moved towards his heat.

Five minutes later, Janet Conner was running along the beach, calling out her boy’s names. She stopped by the deep indentation in the sand where they’d been playing.

Where are they?

Whirling around and around, she frantically searched for any sign of them, her feet stirring up the sand.

They were here. Where were they? She’d only been gone for a few minutes. They couldn’t have just disappeared. Who had them?

The questions pounded around in her head.

A bump rose in the sand by her heel.

She began to cry, her desperation making her breathe in short sharp gulps, her heart beating wildly.

Another bump joined the first, and more runnels set out from the cliff base towards her. Breaking from her initial panic, Janet Conner dashed off along the beach, screaming out her children’s names at the top of her voice.

After she’d gone, the lumps and runnels slowly settled down once more, and the beach was quiet, except for the occasion cry of a woman’s voice carried on the gentle sea breeze.

Lyra checked herself in the mirror, liking what she saw. She hadn’t overdone the makeup, just a little pale lipstick and some eyeliner. Her top was one of the latest from Jennies in Oxford Street. She’d bought her jeans on the Internet and was really pleased at how they fit. Running her hands over her butt, she turned this way and that in front of the mirror. You never could tell how clothes would look when you couldn’t try them on first, but the jeans had been a steal, so she’d taken the chance. Lastly, Lyra pulled on her trainers - white, with yellow flashes and pale green laces. Yup, she looked okay. Finished, she walked down the lane to meet Troy. More like floated really, her mood was so good.

In the two weeks she’d known Troy, Lyra had started to really look forward to seeing him. After today though, she might not get so much freedom to come and go as she pleased. Her aunt was coming home from hospital tomorrow and her mother would probably want Lyra to help out more.

Troy was waiting for her at the bus shelter - along with Fin and Willow - which lowered Lyra’s mood a bit, but not for long.

Troy seemed pleased to see her and broke into a big smile. “Hey,” he said.

“You look nice,” Willow said. “Going somewhere special?”

Lyra stuck out her tongue and laughed. “So what’re you lot going to do, just hang out here for the rest of the day?”

“We thought we’d go and give a hand looking for the missing twins,” Willow said.

“Missing twins?”

Troy nodded. “Didn’t you hear? A couple of kids disappeared off the beach a little while ago. Some people are getting together to look for them.”

“No. No I haven’t heard about that. I was having a shower after milking the goat.”