Earless Rabbits and "A Gift from Lucy"

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Earless Rabbits and "A Gift from Lucy"

I nearly ended my life on Tuesday. It all started with an unexpected visit from Adam, the altar boy who's been helping me out. He was distraught.

For the better part of an hour, I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. I've never seen anybody cry with such desperation.

"Adam, calm down," I said. "Tell me what's going on."

"He's gonna do it to her too. He's so angry."  

"Who? Adam, who are you talking about?"

"My sister was screaming and screaming. She was so damn scared. I'm such a wimp. I ran." Adam's cries were getting really loud, echoing through the basement.

"Dead rabbits on her bed! She woke up to a pile of dead rabbits!"

"OK, OK. Adam, please, calm down. Tell me who did this."

"He hates animals. At Easter, he told us that if we ever brought home a pet he'd have to feed it to us for dinner. I thought he was joking. My sister's always wanted a bunny."

"Did she bring one home?"

"No. It was the neighbor's. She was so happy to play with it. She didn't even bring it inside."

"You think your dad did this?"

"He was in a rage, shouting something about bunnies being sacrilegious and the work of Satan trying to take people away from Jesus."

Adam paused for several minutes. Then, he said, "I brought one to show you."

He pulled a limp rabbit from his backpack. It was a smaller one, probably no more than a pound. Its gray fur had no blood stains or any sign of trauma. Besides being dead, there was just one strange thing about it: it had no ears, not even ear canals. It was as if it had been born without them.

"They were all like that. At least ten of ’em," he said.

My heart pounded. My skin dripped. I had seen this in my experiments. 

I've been reading about earless rabbits being born in Asia lately. I've chalked it all up to normal genetic deviations, overly aggressive grooming from mother rabbits, or maybe even a result of the radiation from Fukushima's nuclear meltdowns. But to see completely earless rabbits in this city meant that something else must be happening, and it's further along than I thought.

"God help us," came another voice. The priest had been eavesdropping. He took the rabbit from me and told Adam to go upstairs. 

"Fresco, this is a warning," he said. "Do you have any idea how it looks to have a screaming altar boy running into the basement of this house of worship? Don't force me to make a hard decision."

He left me alone with my thoughts, a bad idea given everything that is going on. I felt like I'd done something wrong. Maybe I had already snapped and didn't know it.

I was so upset and confused and lonely. So I decided to make a noose and be done with it. I didn't see any point in carrying on. There is only so much hollowness a person can handle.

Then I smelled sweaty Parmesan cheese. Except, I knew that I hadn't left any new supplies for the blood drifters. As I looked around the basement, I spotted it. It was a painting, about two feet by two feet and in a style I really dislike and don't understand.

As I walked up to it, I heard a voice whisper, "Keep going. There is a message here, a gift from Lucy. Share it."

The rest of my week was uneventful. I've just been staring at this painting, wondering what it means, and worrying about Adam and his sister. I feel so alone.

I took a picture of the painting with a camera that Adam lent me.

I no longer have the mental capacity to decipher such stuff. I wish "Lucy" had a clear return policy. I have a rotten feeling there will be more to come.

______________________

Follow the external link to see the painting.

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