"All Harriet's Pieces" by A. Katherine Black

A child's beloved pet is sacrificed to save her mother's life.

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Photo by Iva Rajović on Unsplash

All Harriet’s Pieces by A. Katherine Black

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Janie dropped the book into her lap and leaned her head against the outside of the translucent pig chamber.  Warmth seeped from the chamber, a stark contrast to the cold atrium floor, covered with tiles Mama had found in some faraway place on one of her trips.  Janie’s wish to sink through the chamber wall, to find a way inside, was so familiar, it was almost comforting. 

Harriet stirred.  Standing on her four short legs, she side-stepped until her pig body leaned lengthwise against the inside of the wall, facing Janie.  Harriet used her eyes, eyes exactly like Mama’s, to look at Janie in a way that Mama never did.  Never would. Her pig face tilted toward the book on Janie’s lap. The one Janie had been reading aloud until a minute ago.  The one about the pig and the spider who become friends.  Janie was nearing the end of it. 

“I don’t—” Janie said.  She held back the rest of her words. As much as she loved that book, she couldn’t bear to face the end.  Not this time.  Because the pig will survive in the book.  Because real life is nothing like books.  

A chime played in the hallway, followed by a recording of Mama’s voice.  “Bedtime, child.”  Janie ignored Mama’s schedule.  She touched the chamber wall next to Harriet’s pink floppy ear, wishing she could reach it. She’d always thought Harriet would enjoy a good scratch behind the ear.  

The chime continued, growing louder.  Mama’s digitized voice repeated, every three seconds. “Bedtime, child.”  

Harriet held Janie’s gaze.  Janie’s chin quivered.

After numerous bedtime calls rang through the atrium, Hartie plowed out of the bushes in the far corner of the chamber, trotting at a pace that seemed too fast for a pig.  Stopping just inches from Janie, on the other side of the wall, he stared at her with eyes identical to Janie’s own.

Normally, Janie would have snapped at Hartie.  He was always nagging her, even if she couldn’t hear him through the one-way com.  All she could muster tonight, though, was a single word.  “Fine.”

The alarm stopped in response to her verbal acknowledgment.  Hartie nodded, apparently satisfied.  He walked over to Harriet and plopped down next to her for the night. Harriet closed her eyes, as if this were just some regular evening, like any other.  Harriet deserved to know what was about to happen, but Janie didn’t know how to tell someone they were going to die.