Water Fountain

Chapter 18 - Animal Farm

OINK, OINK, OINK! The pigs all squealed and jumped off their haystack and ran towards Cynthia in excitement. Cynthia often came into the barn on her Uncle Abe's farm to feed them their wheat and barley. She often played with the pigs, building a close bond with a few of them in particular. No pig grew closer to her than Leopold.

Leopold, a small pink pig, gave off a happy squeak as he cuddled up with Cynthia's feet. In less than three months, they became each other's best friend. In an ever more complex world, where it has become harder to find good intentioned humans, Cynthia could always turn to animals. While all the animals on the farm were sweet, none were as pure of heart as Leopold.

Cynthia bent down to look at Leopold face to face, "Oh Leopold, I've missed you so much."

Leopold knew what she was saying. He jumped up in excitement. Cynthia giggled.

"I'm sorry I haven't come to the barn more," said Cynthia. "I've been really busy at school."

Leopold oinked. He was too happy to be mad. Unlike humans, pigs didn't hold grudges.

Before Cynthia could play more with her friend, her Uncle Abe walked into the barn. Abe was Cynthia's adopted dad's older brother. He was a tall man with a goatee, wearing overalls, and always wearing a baseball cap with the logo of his favorite brewery.

"Hey, Cynthia," Uncle Abe took off his dirty gloves. "I've got something to show you."

Cynthia was excited. She always looked up to her uncle, far more than her father. Cynthia's dad was a racist antisemite and did not try to hide it. With Cynthia's mother, he was a prominent member of a neo-nazi cult in the dangerous town of Firo, who sycophantically looked up to the cult's leader, Otto Walter, or more commonly known as, Mr. Walter. Cynthia had met Mr. Walter a few times before, usually for the annual Christmas celebrations held in Firo's Cathedral. Every single year, Walter seemed to look more and more deranged. By the late 2010s, he began to cut his mustache the same way Hitler did, and started speaking in a thicker German accent, even though he had been an American citizen since the late 1980s. Cynthia could not believe her parents looked up to the man. Luckily, in mid April, Mr. Walter was assassinated in an Anarchist terrorist attack. Unfortunately, his just as villainous assistant Heinrich Schneider took his place.

Uncle Abe on the other hand was a proud farmer. While his younger brother went off on a life of bigotry, Abe was an egalitarian. He was actually so progressive, she had a sneaking suspicion he might actually be an Anarchist. Uncle Abe was kind, wise, loyal, strong, funny, an intellectual yet not pretentious. He was the perfect male role model for Cynthia. His relationship with her father was tense, but they both got along for the sake of the family.

Cynthia followed Uncle Abe out of the barn, excited to see what he was going to show her. She followed him into the freezeroom, where he pulled off a large piece of cloth that covered a twelve by twelve feet area. Cynthia gasped at what she saw. It was over forty frozen steaks, frozen duck, hundreds of potatoes, jars of coleslaw, bottles of beer and fruit punch. Though it was frozen, her mouth watered. Uncle Abe's farm had never produced this much food before.

"I hope you like what you see, Cynthia," said Uncle Abe. "I've been keeping the potatoes in stock since September, and the beef since late March. I want to have a feast."

Cynthia jumped up in excitement. Her family wasn't that rich, so the only feasts she had gone to were in the neo-nazi clubs in Firo.

"That would be amazing!" Cynthia yelled joyously. "But how are you, me, and my parents not going to be able to eat this all?"

"Invite your friends. Maria, Cleo, Bella. Anyone you want," Uncle Abe smiled. "I want you to have a fun time. We'll have the feast tomorrow night."

For the first time in a while, Cynthia was excited for something. She planned to tell everyone at school tomorrow about the feast.