Posted by PK on December 24, 2001 at 17:42:51:
Tom watched this casual exchange with interest and relief. Julie seemed dealing well with
her impending roasterhood. It was nice to know she was taking an interest.
"It's probably an old wives' tale," Jill opined. "What do you think, Marcy?"
"I don't know. I heard that too, I think. Also, lots of fruit's supposed to help you diet."
"Eat too much and you get the shi- uh, diarrhea," Jill interpreted, glancing automatically at
her father.
"Yuck!" Julie let the apple drop.
"I don't think one or two extra will hurt, Julie," Amelia said, giving Jill a look.
"I guess not. I just want to be in good shape for the, you know. I want to look good..."
"And taste good, of course." Amelia shook her head. "Just get a balanced diet, dear. You'll be
fine." She glanced at Tom for patriarchal backing.
"Your stepmom's right," Tom confirmed. "Balanced diet, fresh air and excercise, good sleep
at night, that's all a healthy young lady like you needs to be her best. If you want to eat an
extra couple of apples a day, go ahead, it can't hurt."
Nick, like his father, had also noticed with gratitude that Julie was getting into the spirit of
things. She had been monitoring the progress of the campaign closely, at first anxiously. It
really would have been too bad if it had failed. Now that it seemed certain to succeed, after
the reservation and now the fixing of the venue, she seemed quite cheerful, even to be
looking forward to it. He didn't doubt that playing an active part in the proceedings had
helped her a lot. In her own mind, she was now committed more than merely resigned. Nick
wondered if, should the cull order be withdrawn, she would insist on going ahead with it
anyway. He hoped so. It wasn't going to happen, of course, and he would never risk upsetting
her by mentioning the idea just to find out.
"Can I wear my cheerleader uniform?" Julie asked her father.
"Not to get roasted in," Marcia cautioned.
"Dumb. 'Course not. I mean, you know, when I come in. Then I could do a few cheers
before..."
"I'm not sure that would be appropriate at a Christmas party, dear." Amelia didn't want to be a
wet blanket on Julie's enthusiasm, but there was a limit. Julie looked crestfallen.
"Daddy?"
"Keep it tasteful, sweetheart. Remember the occasion."
"Yes, Daddy, but..."
"Sure, you can wear the costume. I guess people will expect it. Wear whatever you like, as
long as you're clean and presentable."
"As if I wouldn't!" She pulled a face. Tom smiled indulgently.
Tom was a romantic. Janice had often told him so. He hankered after the old days, when a
man might live all his life with the woman he loved, and never have to see his own daughters
die. For that, he would have forgone the privilege of ever sleeping with them, though like any
man he was not immune to their attraction. He was awake in the night again, with Julie
peacefully asleep in his arms. He hoped Amelia slept as well in the guest room. Tomorrow
was Julie's last day, hopefully her triumph.
Amelia had been very understanding when Julie had asked for her last Christmas present. It
was no more than any daughter should be accorded, but she had been diffident about it,
uncertain if her father's new relationship would be affected by her request and not wishing to
cause trouble. It was a new found sensitivity for her, one her father was proud of. She had
broached the subject after a family meeting, following him into his den.
"Daddy," she had asked, "Will you fuck me? Before I get cooked? Please?"
Tom had done this once before, with Patricia. Even then, he had insisted on doing it in
private rather than the public display before the spitting that some favoured. The experience
had been intense, poignant beyond belief. Julie had her mother's potential, not her
experience, she would never have that now. Tom was almost painfully gentle with her. He
knew she would never know the difference, but hoped she sensed his love. All he could do
was to keep her happy until she too died.
Tom dreamed without knowing that he had fallen asleep. He was with Janice, in a bookshop.
She picked out a volume and showed it to him. There was a sign on the cover but he couldn't
read it.
"It's easy," she said, "It's all here."
She was naked below the waist. The sign was tattooed on her right buttock. "I'm your meat",
it said.
"What's wrong?" she asked him. "I'm still here."
Tom woke again, in a cold sweat. Julie was still asleep. He touched her curly blonde hair. It
was going to be a long night. He forced himself to think back.
Julie had drummed up a lot of support with the tattoo. Janice would never have done that.
Putting a USDA stamp on her butt would never have occurred to her. Nick had told him how
the letterjocks liked to watch the cheerleaders at practice. How Julie had flaunted the tattoo,
wearing a thong under her short skirt. Nothing under there but approved rump meat, the sign
said. Doubtless, they had been transfixed waiting for her to flash it.
It was impossible for Tom, in the stark clarity of the early hours of the morning, to deny that
he'd like to eat Julie himself. Impossible also to deny that the only thing that made the
conflict of emotions comfortable had been Janice. Amelia was growing into it, but still he
missed her.
Tom kissed his daughter's sleeping head and hoped she did not understand any of this.
"How do I look?"
It was Julie's first remark after coming down to breakfast. She spun around in place, flaring
her skirt slightly. She had bathed and washed her hair first, what was left of it, and dressed in
her cheerleader costume. She looked stunning and everybody knew it.
"You look great, sis." Nick said. "But you'll need a coat with that." Marcia and Jill made
affirmative noises between mouthfuls. At one time, Marcia would have been jealous of the
attention her non-identical and prettier twin was getting, but she could hardly grudge it today.
Besides, her own appearance had improved quite a bit since her experience on the Jessica.
She was perfectly willing to be patient about showing the results off the way Julie was about
to do.
"Is my hair okay?" She flicked at it anxiously. Marcia had cut it the previous day and done a
very good job of it. The Partridges had been forced to make economies in order to afford
their share of the stake, since all of them wanted to go to the party for one reason or another.
Tom had insisted that Julie should be allowed to go to the salon if she wanted to, but Julie
had said she didn't need to, she would rather be prepared at home. She had cut her own
nails as usual and let her sisters do the rest. She had even let Jill shave her, though she had
sat rigid with anxiety through the whole procedure.
"It's perfect." Amelia put a plate of pancakes down in front of her. A glass of freshly squeezed
orange juice stood by the side of her usual place at table.
"I'm not sure I can eat," she said apologetically.
"You should eat something, dear," said Amelia wisely. "If you go all day on an empty
stomach, you'll be nervous and tired. I read it some where. Hyper something."
"Hypoglycaemia," said Nick. "Blood sugar gets low, adrenalin kicks in. She's right, sis. Get
something down. Just try a few bites."
"Great pancakes," Jill put in. Her sister dubiously tried a few bites and ended up finishing the
whole stack, with syrup.
Christmas Day, they all knew, was only a prelude to the main event. None of the family ate
much after breakfast. They played little games together and watched TV in a distracted way.
"'It's a Wonderful Life' is on again," grumbled Jill, looking at the TV guide with disgust. "Any
takers? John Wayne? Thought not."
Soon after a light lunch - the traditional Christmas dinner was out of the question - Cory
arrived. Though the whole family had agreed to give up their usual Christmas presents in
deference to Julie's feelings, not to mention as an economy, she had brought one for Julie
herself. Nick gave her a familar hug and kiss. Tom greeted her warmly. He hadn't said much
all day.
"It's an old family recipe," she said, handing Julie a pint bottle. "Better than eating apples."
"What's in it?" Julie asked, eyeing the murky green liquid dubiously.
"I can't tell." Cory shrugged apologetically. "Tradition. I had to beg my stepmother to give me
this one. It's herbal, and it makes you taste good. Not that you wouldn't anyway, of course.
Don't worry, it's not too spicy."
"Thanks." Julie unscrewed the top. "Should I drink it now?"
"Yes. Give it time to work."
Julie drank it, grimacing at the first sip then glugging the rest of it down bravely. The herbal
taste was strong and bitter. Everyone watched as her expression changed. She patted her
belly. "Hey, I feel better! Will it really improve my flavor?"
"Nobody's ever complained. It settles the stomach too."
Though the morning had seemed to stretch out for ever, the afternoon went in a flash. It
seemed all too abrupt when Tom suddenly announced that they'd better be going soon.
"We can't be the last to arrive if we're all going together," he said. Everybody knew why.
They had to be in good time to get Julie ready and start her cooking.
"Have I got time for a quick shower?" she asked.
"Okay, honey, but it really better be a quick one." Tom gave Nick the wry glance common
between men waiting for a woman to primp and dress.
It really wasn't long, though. Julie wouldn't be wearing makeup and she'd already chosen her
clothes, she just showered and changed her socks. Throwing on a coat, she was ready to go.
She gave her father an appealing and slightly nervous smile. "See? All done."
As they left, Cory took Julie's hand and squeezed it in silent support, which got her a grateful
smile. Over the last month, she had come to regard the younger girl in an odd way as her
mentor and protector. She owed her a lot for what she'd done, but Cory never gave her any
attitude about it, always being friendly and supportive but never sugar coating the pill.
It was already dark. When they got to at the Hopkins place, Cory guiding them to the old
barn, there were lights showing in the door frame and the high windows. They went in
through a small side door to see that some of the guests, mostly the football team, had
already arrived. Julie's appearance evoked a ragged cheer, to which she responded with a
smile and a wave, removing her coat with a flourish. That got her a few appreciative whistles.
Tom was profoundly relieved. She was getting into her performance now and her
nervousness had gone. She was riding the wave of the moment instead of thinking about
what was to happen to her. He had seen girls her age who lost their nerve at the last moment
and had to be physically restrained. Julie couldn't let herself chicken out now, she would be
letting herself down in front of her admirers. Already she was flirting and joking with them,
probably teasing them about which bits of her they'd get. As he watched, she twirled, flaring
her skirt to show her under...no, had she left them off? It was hard to tell from that brief
glimpse.
The rest of them met up with the Hopkins to check on the preparations, but Tom could see
everything was well in hand. Long wooden tables had been set up, laden with all the right
tableware and condiments. The barn was lit well but not harshly by a number of bulbs fitted
into lanterns, casting a subdued golden light. It was really quite homey.
Nick avoided the jocks, they bored him. He stuck to his own family and the Hopkins, who
seemed like nice people. Cory introduced him to her parents, he had barely met them before,
and her siblings some of whom he had. The Johnsons arrived, or some of them. Shares in
Julie weren't cheap, one of the reasons they had done without Christmas presents this year.
An odd and disturbing thought occurred to him and he wondered whether he should mention
it at all. When he did, it was to Cory of course.
"Julie was called on the quota, right? Because of demand. Now we've bought her, does that
mean some other girl we never heard of gets culled too?"
"Maybe. I doubt it affects the stats that much. Don't think about it, it's not the point anyway.
The point is, it should be illegal."
Nick was shocked. "Illegal? But we have to cull, Cory. I know it's harsh, but..."
Cory shook her head, waving him to silence. "I know that. We all get cooked some day. I will,
and I hope it's later rather than sooner. I hope I get to pick my time like your Mom did, but if I
get a termination order," she shrugged, "I'll get cooked and eaten by my own folks. And
yours, of course." She grinned. "You'll get my cunt, you'll like that." Nick looked a protest, she
waved that away too. "Sure. But why the quota? It's not right. Nobody's going to die if they go
short on the meat market. It should be stopped."
"It's just economics," Nick said feebly.
"It's bullshit. There's plenty of women to eat. It's just a luxury food, consequence of the cull.
Then there's imports from places with real population problems. Why's there a quota?
'Cause a few rich bastards aren't getting as much girlmeat as they'd like."
Nick had rarely heard her sounding this fierce. "Jobs in the meat packing industry..."
"Bullshit. Why not 'jobs in the nerve gas industry'? They used that one back in the militarist
age too. Any old crap can be defended using the 'jobs' argument, it's just a slogan. It's not the
real reason."
Nick was uncomfortable. This sounded suspiciously anti-capitalist and he didn't see himself
as a political animal at all, much less a commie. "I don't know..."
Cory grabbed his shoulders with surprising strength. "Look at her," she said. Nick looked.
Julie was still chatting happily with the jocks. "Now think of her dragged off to a factory and
chopped to bits in a slaughterhouse. Or if she's really lucky, she'd be held in a cell until she's
ordered and she's taken away and roasted by people she doesn't know, who don't care about
her. Just so some fat rich bastard can have her cunt on a plate. She's your sister, and she's a
nice girl. Sure, she's a flirt and an airhead but she's nice, she never hurt anyone. Does she
deserve that? What else have we all been doing this for? If she's got to go, fine. She should
be cooked and eaten by her family and friends. That's the right way, and you know it. Let the
fat cats eat their own kids if they're that desperate for home grown pussy."
Nick hated to fight with Cory, not least because she usually won, but he had to admit she had
a point. "I don't think we ought to get into this now," he hedged.
"Okay, but don't forget it. Course, if you want to call off the engagement I'll understand."
He was made of tougher stuff than that. "No fuckin' way, girl. You're mine. You're not getting
out of it that easy." Trying to sound tough.
Cory rewarded him with a radiant smile. "Peace for now. Looks like Julie's about ready to get
shafted and I think she'll want us there. Coming?"
The Jessica machine had been moved over by trailer the previous day and now stood at one
side of the big room. All the checks and adjustments had already been made, but Tom
couldn't resist checking everything again, short of getting Julie to try it for size right there,
which would have ruined her big moment just a little. Now the Partridges were gathered
around it, Julie included. As Cory and Nick arrived, Tom pronounced everything was ready.
The party guest were still arriving but most were already here, they couldn't delay any longer.
"Okay, honey, we'd better get you started," said Tom gently. Julie nodded, staring at the
machine as if in a trance. She turned to her father, blue eyes wide.
"Everybody's really going to eat me," she said in wonder, as if the thought had never
occurred to her before.