Mama Pigs Tale

Momma Pig’s tale
I sometimes wish my boys were here for just a moment. Pierre, Michel and Rene- my three youngest- are the ones I miss the most. They will never share this small pen with me, though, even if it costs me my life. I just wish I could say goodbye to them. The little pen has nothing to recommend it to anyone- it’s surrounded by high bars that even a giraffe couldn’t jump over, and has only a small pile of dirty straw for a bed. I can live with it, though. I know I’ll never know the kind of luxury that I am used to again. It only hurts because the tiny cell is such a dramatic contrast to the large, snug barn where I raised all 17 of my children with my husband, Claude. Twelve of the kids went to other farms when they were adults, but we always stayed close. We were a large, happy clan- busily involved in the business of the barn when it happened. Our youngest were still at home, but mercifully they were gone the day their Father was taken. Hot headed Michel would probably have started a fight, and might well have been killed.
The nightmare started when a large wolf came to the door- a member of the Revolutionary Guard he said. I had no idea what he was talking about, but he seemed official so I let him in. He completely ransacked the house, stealing hundreds of thousands of francs from every conceivable hiding place for “the common purse”, and then he took Claude away in cuffs, claiming that he was an enemy of the state, since we were Aristocrats.
I was frantic by noon, because I couldn’t understand why this was happening. Finally, my friend Lottie- a lovely chestnut Thoroughbred- raced up to the door, her saddle empty where Mr. De Basque should have been. “Is everything all right in the town?” I asked her, fearfully.
“No, Marie. It’s not all right. And it might never be again.” She told me a tale that I couldn’t understand at the time. She’d galloped from downtown and was still breathless when she arrived. “It was a terrible thing! They stole our master from his saddle- then took him to the Place de la Bastille. Revolutionary guard, they said. They were taking all aristocrats to the Bastille- they said it was the people’s right to rule themselves and that all aristocrats should be killed. What sort of nonsense is that?” She said, her nostrils flaring in anger. “They killed him in front of me. I took off and they couldn’t catch up with me, or they’d probably have killed me.”
It suddenly dawned on me. “Revolutionary guard- oh no. They have Claude!”
She looked at me with kindness. “I’m afraid it’s too late for him, Marie. I’m so sorry. You should know- I saw things no one should see.” She went on to describe a scene of complete chaos- men fighting and dying because of their places in society, and the killing of entire families just because of their name. “They are mad! They were even burning barns down! I saw three as I was winding through town. It was terrible- just so many lost souls inside crying out. I almost couldn’t stand it! They haven’t gotten this far yet, but they soon will.”
Instantly, I formed a plan. I had managed to keep a few hundred francs from the wolf when the house was raided. My boys could take it and leave. They wouldn’t be home for another hour, though. I made a quick assessment of what we had to work with, and then started dinner. While dinner was cooking, I packed them some grain for the long trip they’ll have to make and tried to face the fact that I’d be left alone.
My plan was confirmed when my friend Madeline La Vache- a small milk cow who had her horns in every piece of gossip- told me that the rumor around the city park- where she spent the morning grazing- was that the Guard was coming after our farm the next day. They had decided to leave me this morning because Claude was good enough for them. Not for long. They wanted me now too- and our sons. Well, I assure you they were never going to get the boys if I had anything to say about it.

Not five minutes after Madeline left, I heard Pierre and Michel come in, followed a minute later by Rene. Rene- the little runt of the litter, though he was born first- is actually the one I trust most. He has showed me that he can stand up to whatever others do to him, and that he can give as good as he gets. That’s an important trait for this sort of situation that Michel doesn’t have yet, and Pierre will never have. Rene is the only one smart enough to get them out safely- he’s proven that to me. He has matured well, and even Michel has come to respect him. They had a fight a few weeks back, and Michel was finally forced to back down, which is a first in this farmyard. Since then, they have a new relationship- and I know that has continued since they left that day. I’m glad for that, because Michel used to treat Rene like he was fit for nothing but insults and cruel jokes. I’d always thought Michel should be the man of the house when his father was gone. When Rene turned the tables on him, though, I finally saw how much he had to offer. I can really say now that either of them would be good fathers, though Rene might not be a good choice because of his physical deformities. Thankfully, they had made peace, or as close as they’ll ever have. Two alpha personality males in the same farmyard are never going to have an easy relationship.
That last evening, I placed dinner on the table immediately, telling them what they would have to do as we ate. I think only Rene actually understood what I was telling him, though Michel and Pierre nodded as if they were at least paying some attention to me. I helped Rene pack their things for the trip, reliving every memory of their childhood in my head and wondering if I’d ever see them again. My poor boy- he had so many terrible things happen to him- but he has borne them with a strength I never realized until it was too late. I tried hard to keep myself from seeming to be too afraid, but it was a waste of time. Pierre stuck to me like glue- not quite understanding what he was going to have to do, and Michel could do nothing but whine. Eventually I was able to give Rene the money I’d saved and he hugged me. “Mother- you know I’ll take care of them.” He said, giving me some sense of peace about it. Pierre would need all the help he could get! He was never very bright, but he might have been alright on the farm. Out in the world, though, I worry about him. Since I’ve been in prison, Rene writes that his brothers are settled into their places, so I feel like he must be OK.
As my boys filtered out into the dark night- each holding me close for a short moment- I couldn’t help crying. Rene tried to calm me, telling me that they’d be back at the end of the war. It didn’t help much, though I appreciated his sentiment. I still remember the milky white of the white patch of skin on his shoulders- such a contrast to the darkness he was walking into as they left. He was nervous, but he clearly had the ability to put on a brave face for Pierre and Michel. They left as if it was just another adventure- not the end of the world they had grown up in. I wish I had as much nerve as they showed that night.
The next morning, as I’d been told, the Wolf came to our farm. Our owner had turned us all out to try to protect us. Well, that’s how I was caught. I was in my sty having lunch when he came through, blasting out terrible threats against the Aristocracy of the farm. He searched for an hour trying to find the boys, but he couldn’t. Rene had hidden their path ingeniously and I had no doubt that they were safely out of the city by that point. I just smiled as the Wolf searched.
After he failed to find the boys, the Wolf turned his attention back to me. “Since you won’t tell me where your sons have gone, you will have to come with me.” He pulled me roughly out of the sty, beating me with a stick when I slowed down. Before I knew it, I was in this tiny cell- where I’ve remained most of the last six months. My sons found out about my capture, because my friend Madeline was able to smuggle out a letter to them after she found a letter that Rene had sent to me a week after my capture. She brought that letter to me one day- hidden in her cow bell. It was so wonderful to hear from my boys- even if I couldn’t possibly send a letter to them. Even Pierre was doing well! It raised my spirits more than I can even describe. And for Rene to have commissioned a house built of brick! What a mansion it must be! When the Wolf arrived later in that day, I was taken to the torture chamber in an attempt to make me give up the location of my boys. Well, even now that I had it, there was no way. When he beat me senseless, the last thought on my mind was of those boys happily living on a farm outside of town. I wasn’t going to make them go through this.
The months passed quickly, but I was never willing to give up the information that the Wolf wanted- no matter how miserable they made me. Yesterday, I heard some terrible things-and I know that my time is almost over. I’m to be taken to the slaughterhouse today, and will probably be bacon tomorrow. At least my children will survive me. The memory of the boys leaving the house that last night will be enough to keep me strong through what I have to endure.