The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (5 page)

For the next twenty minutes or so, the kids took care of brushing their horses. Cyrus was particularly careful and made sure that his strokes were gentle and smooth so that the horse remained comfortable, and the coat looked its best. As he was brushing around one of the flanks, Mr. Vale walked by and watched what he was doing. He gave Cyrus a small nod of approval before walking away. 

The next thing they did was fill the water troughs and feed the horses. This was Cyrus’s favorite thing to do. He and the shorter boy took care of filling up the water trough quickly, then got their bag of carrots. The scrawny, bushy-haired boy broke a carrot in half and gave part of it to the shorter boy. The other boy said thanks and gestured that he could go first. Cyrus put the carrot on his flat palm and placed it up to the mare’s snout. She immediately put her lips over the carrot and gobbled it out of his hand. Cyrus laughed as the lips brushed sloppily against his hand. The mare then took her time chewing the carrot with loud, repetitive crunches. He and the other boy took turns feeding the horse until they were out of carrots.

When all the kids were done feeding their horses, the group was escorted into the cow pens. The children helped to feed some of the cows, then were asked to milk them. Some of the other kids clearly thought this was gross. Cyrus was one of the kids who found it fun.

Cyrus filled one pail before it was time to let the other boy have a turn. He got off his stool and watched the shorter boy pull on the teats with fascination. He waited for Mr. Vale to get closer then pulled on his arm to get his attention.

“Hey, Mr. Vale,” he said politely, “how do cows make all this milk? Where does it all come from?”

“That’s a good question boy,” the stable attendant replied with a touch of excitement in his voice. Clearly he enjoyed talking about his work. “You see it all starts when the cow—”

“Mr. Vale!” A stern voice said from the front of the cow pen. The man in question jumped a bit at being addressed so harshly, then turned to see who was speaking to him. One of the black armored guards who was standing outside the gate had moved into the entry way, his heavy footfalls echoing in the now silent pen. The sound of those footsteps reminded Cyrus of the sound he’d heard above him before the voice from the ceiling had disappeared. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Yes?” Mr. Vale responded neutrally.

“You may not answer that boy’s question if he is the only one to ask it.” The male voice emanating from the suit was stern and commanding. “If the question is not asked by everyone then it is not asked at all. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but you see, I think it’s an important thing for them to know,” the caretaker spoke with a quiet assurance.

“Do they think it’s important?” The armored guard asked back.

“Well—”

“Let’s find out,” the guard replied, not waiting for him to finish. “Children, I have a question for you.”

They all obediently turned their gazes to the man in the black armor. Cyrus felt a bit of intimidation stir up inside him as he looked at this armored figure. Judging by the expressions of the other kids around him, he wasn’t alone in the feeling.

“Do all you want to know how the cows produce milk? Is it important to all of you?”

Cyrus, the boy next to him and another girl with wavy red hair nodded their heads in affirmation. However, two other boys and one other girl shook their heads ‘no.’ The rest of the children seemed too intimidated to make any decision at all.

“I see,” he said with an unseen smirk, and Cyrus felt his heart sink knowing that he would get no answer to his question. “Then, no one is really interested in how the cows produce their milk.” He placed a hand on Mr. Vale’s shoulder to make sure he had his full attention. “Remember, if a question isn’t asked by all, it was never asked. Understood?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Vale responded in a neutral tone. The guard let go of him and returned to his post. He walked past Cyrus without another word, and Cyrus balled his fists with frustration. He wondered, not for the first time, why it mattered if he wanted to know something that the other kids didn’t? He wasn’t hurting anyone, as far as he could tell.

Cyrus jerked when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He saw that the shorter boy he was paired with was giving him a sympathetic look. It made Cyrus feel a bit better, knowing that someone else agreed with him on the matter. The pair of boys then turned back to milking their cow and were careful not to bother Mr. Vale again.

After an hour or so with the cows, Ms. Linda gathered the kids up again into one line. They walked silently over to a shelter where dogs and cats were kept. Cyrus tried very hard to keep his joy to himself, but he couldn’t help walking a bit faster as they approached the building. Though he loved the entire visit to see the animals, he always loved seeing the dogs and cats the most.

Especially the dogs,
he thought with a grin as they lined up on the sidewalk outside the facility.

“Okay, everyone, let’s take off our shoes before we go inside here. We don’t want to track anything in for the workers in this place to have to clean up.”

The children obeyed her command and set their shoes in a line against the wall. Ms. Linda did a quick sweep to see that they had done as she wanted. Cyrus noticed that she had stopped a bit when she’d seen the state of his shoes. He had made an effort to step in every muddy patch and piece of stray dung he could find. She had given him a look that told him, “You’ll be hearing about this later.” It made him smile.

Ms. Linda entered a number into the pin pad by the door, and the lock clicked and the doors swung open. The children followed their caretaker in a straight line as she led them down the corridor until they reached the cat room.

Their caretaker opened the door to reveal a room filled with furry boxes, scratching posts, ropes dangling from the walls, small jingly balls, and, of course, cats. The cats themselves ranged from small kittens to full grown cats. Cyrus always marveled at all the different designs on the cats’ fur. The assortment of colors had amazed him since the first time they had been brought to see the cats.

“Now remember,” their short caretaker started, “don’t pull on their fur. Don’t try to pick them up. Don’t chase them around the room. Always be gentle when petting them and don’t put your fingers anywhere they don’t belong. If the rules are broken then we will leave the cat room early. Understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda,” they responded in unison.

Ms. Linda stood by the door and motioned them to play with the cats. The children didn’t have to be told twice and walked up to the various felines scooting around the room. Cyrus glanced around for a minute before spotting the cat he really liked. It was a big, fat orange-colored tomcat with bright green eyes. The young boy always found this particular feline to be funny just because it rarely moved from its box haven and always had the same grumpy expression.

“Hey, Big Guy,” Cyrus said, reading the name that was on the collar. “How’re you doin’ today?”

The cat opened one lazy eye to see who was talking to him, and it rested on Cyrus for a moment. Then, he closed it as if to say he wasn’t impressed. A noise came out of his mouth that sounded like a combination of a sigh and a moan. Cyrus smiled. He always translated that noise to mean, “Go away; I’m busy.”

“Busy, huh?” he replied to the unspoken message. “How is sleeping all day being busy?”

The cat opened both his eyes this time and stared at him. The stare said to him, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. And why are you still here?” 

“You’re right, I guess you don’t have to explain,” he said consolingly. “And I’m here because I like you. Don’t tell me that upsets you?”

The cat continued to stare at him, and then gave him a long meow. It was of a lighter quality than his previous noise, and Cyrus took this as a good sign.

“I see it doesn’t. I bet it’s because you know I can do this.”

The young boy reached his hand out slowly and allowed the cat to smell him. The fat, orange cat then bumped his head against the outstretched hand and rubbed it. Allowing the feline to do this for a brief moment, he moved his hand to scratch behind the short, stubby ears. Big Guy tilted his head to the left and started to purr.

“See? I’m not so bad, am I?” he remarked as he continued to scratch the cat behind the ears.

When Cyrus had his fill of this activity, he found a piece of string and brought it to Big Guy. The orange fat cat really didn’t like to play, but if you brought a piece of string to him and minimized the movement aspect on the part of the cat, he would play a little. As Cyrus watched the activity with amusement, he wished that Big Guy could come live with him in his room. He also knew better than to voice this desire aloud. 

“All right class, time’s up,” Ms. Linda said after what seemed like far too short a time to most of the kids. “Line up. We have one more place to visit before we need to head back.”

“Hey, don’t forget about me, okay?” Cyrus said as he put the string away. The cat shut its eyes again with an annoyed glance and a noise that sounded like a groan, making Cyrus chuckle to himself as he got back in line.  

Ms. Linda made them each pick a pair of ugly sandals before leading them outside to a wide stretch of grass. A long wire fence went across its whole length, containing the dozen or more dogs inside it. They varied greatly in age. Some were older dogs with gray on their muzzles. Some were full grown, but still looked quite young, while others still were just puppies.

Their caretaker greeted the attendant of the dogs, and she opened the gate to let them in. The children all filed in and stopped in front of the gate to await instruction. Each of them was given a tennis ball and a small bag of treats.

“Now remember the rules for playing with the dogs,” Ms. Linda explained before they were allowed to go to the dogs. “Don’t pull on their fur. Don’t step on them, particularly the puppies. Don’t try to pull the ball from their mouths. Let them drop it for you. Give them a treat after they have successfully fetched the ball. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda.”

“Good. Now run along then.”

Cyrus raced away from the others as soon as he had been permitted to do so. Playing with the dogs was his absolute favorite thing to do when they were visiting the animals. He went directly to where a bunch of dogs was laying together and started greeting and petting them. There was a large black dog with gray around the muzzle, a smaller tricolored dog with a thin face and dark eyes, a completely white dog with curly fur and long ears and a small golden puppy that wagged its tail vigorously when Cyrus approached.

“Oh, all of you are such good dogs! Good doggies!” Cyrus exclaimed as he petted all of them that he could and was licked and jumped on in the process. Soon, the other children had caught up with him and stole some of the dogs’ attention from him. The little golden puppy, however, was still clinging to him and nipping at his heels to get him going. He decided to stick with this dog and play with it.

Cyrus put the ball up and waved it back and forth at the puppy. It looked up at the ball with great focus, its tail wagging and its tongue hanging out. Cyrus chuckled as he threw the ball for the puppy, who ran after it as fast as its small legs could carry it. When it returned, the puppy immediately dropped the ball in front of him and nudged it towards him with a bark. The young boy gave the puppy a treat and continued the process until the dog attendant tapped him on the shoulder. She was a tall, thin woman with red hair that went down to her waist. Sharp green eyes were covered by a pair of round rimmed glasses, and her voice had an equally sharp undertone to it.

“Young man, I’ve noticed you’ve spent all your time with this one dog. I suggest you go play with another dog and give the other children a chance to play with him.”

“But—”

“I
suggest
you heed my advice young man.” She cut him off and gave him a shove towards another dog.

Cyrus, realizing he had no choice in the matter, walked off towards another shaggy, red-haired dog. It took him a moment to realize that something was nipping at his heels again and that the puppy had followed him.

“No,” he stopped and whispered to it while the woman’s back was turned, “you’ll get me in trouble. Go away!”

The puppy merely put its ears down and whined in response. The noise pulled at Cyrus’s heartstrings, and he decided just to walk away and hope the puppy understood. He approached the red-haired dog and waved the ball in front of him before throwing it down the field. The red-haired dog looked in the direction of the ball but made no move to go after it. The golden puppy that Cyrus had tried to shoo earlier, however, shot off after it and got it in no time. The young pup proudly brought it back to Cyrus, laying it down in front of him.

“Good boy,” Cyrus said, torn between irritation and amusement.”Good doggie.”

Picking up the ball again, he noticed that the shorter boy who sat next to him in class had appeared next to him. He bent down and gave the puppy a pat on the head. Though it seemed to enjoy the attention, the pup eventually shrugged it off to go stand closer to Cyrus. Cyrus shrugged at the other boy in apology, but the other boy just made a gesture in return that said he didn’t mind.

The golden puppy yipped at the bushy-haired boy to remind him to throw the ball for him. Cyrus obeyed it with a grin on his face, throwing it as far as he could. He was smiling widely as the puppy ran after it, only for it to disappear a second later when a harsh voice cut across his joy.