Meat

A short story against mobbing.

A Surprise at Johnson High


"Take the chilli or leave it. The vegetarian version is out and there are others waiting in the line," the stout server at the school's cafeteria grumphed. "Biologically produced meat, my foot...happy cows, gah," she added in a murmur.
By the sour lines engraved in her round face, no one had made her happy in a long time, Dylan mused. But he did not give voice to his opinion, just picked a bowl from the counter to place it on his tray, next to the chocolate milk. His glasses slipped as he pushed through the crowd towards the tables, seeking for a quiet corner. So he didn't recognise Ken until he almost bumped into the larger boy. Damn.
"Where do you think you are going, idiot?" Ken sneared, throwing back his head in his usual arrogant way to show of his blonde hair.
Behind him, Jenny, his cheerleader girlfriend, giggled. Other pupils started to turn, smelling blood in the water like sharks. Dylan's heart started to drum. He felt the cursed blush creeping up his throat. He swallowed.
"The correct expression is Nerd. Idiot would be more in your line," Dylan pulled his too slim shoulders back. He was proud he did not stutter.
"I'm not the idiot, I'm saving on my lunch money. Good of you to fetch my lunch," Ken grabbed the tray and pulled.
Dylan refused to give in, holding on. Some of the chilli spilt. But it was a short struggle. Dylan grasped when one of the other football stars roughly ellbowed his back from behind. It hurt and Dylan had to grab his glasses swiftly to keep them from falling and shattering.
"Get gone to your stupid Romeo fob, frog-face. And don't you dare kiss Jenny on stage," Trent threatened, shoving Dylan in the small of his back again, harder this time.
Dylan stumbled until George pushed him back, none too gently. "Hey, Romeo. Don't bump me or you might tear your pantyhose," George snickered.
Dylan nearly panicked, surrounded by half the football team now. Again. Ken's voice cut through Dylan's painful memories of being roughed up before.
"Yum, yum...Tasty," Ken bragged, stuffing a spoonful of chilli into his mouth.
Dylan's fists balled, his nails cutting into his palm. He knew from bitter memory he had no chance against Ken, let alone against him and his friends. He'd just end up bleeding again. But he felt like a pressure cooker before an explosion, grinding his teeth.
Before Dylan could do something stupid, Ken coughed.
Dylan turned his head away from George's hateful grimace. Ken spat out. A white thing pinged onto the tray, Ken was fumbling with his sausage fingers in his mouth, feeling for more obstruction. Dylan stared. This thing was not a cow tooth. It looked...
"What the hell is that?" Ken echoed Dylan's thought. Dylan looked up to the spoon Ken was holding. A glibbery round glob on it actually showed a blue-greyish circle on the white background. A circle with a black pupil. Could it be...
Ken retched.
Dylan felt a wild laugh bubble up in his chest. Irresistible. All-consuming.
"A human eyeball! An actual human eyeball!" Dylan burst out, hysterically. "You cannibal!"
Behind Ken, Jenny started to screech. A screech that soon spread as other students found more teeth and bone parts in their lunch.


Investigations


"This is a part of the mandible, cut off by a very sharp instrument," the female tech in her white paper suit stated dryly. She was picking through the chunky remains of the chilli, dripping in a sieve in front of her.
"What, like a knife?" Police officer Thane asked hoarsely, revulsion distorting his square face.
"More like a very powerful meat grinder. Does the school have one?" The tech asked.
"No. No, they get their meat canned," Thane retched. His gaze was fixed on the cooked eyeball.
"Then I'd look at the canning company," The tech shrugged.
"Does this not bother you? A person cooked and fed to children?" Thane queried incredulously.
"No, not especially. Meat is meat and you'll get used to the bodies. Interesting puzzle here, though. Doesn't look like a whole body. If I were you, I'd have them recall the rest of this charge," the tech suggested.
Thane was happy to have an excuse to leave.


"That is enough, Sungh. I will show Mr. Thane the factory now," the grey-suited, blond man interrupted the questioning.
Thane blinked. The middle-aged, balding Sungh blushed and ducked away, scuttling off between the rows of cardboard boxes. Interesting. Thane suspected that Sungh had been working himself up to spilling some beans, so to say. Thane decided he would find the helpful engineer later and continue this conversation. No sense in losing the man his job.
"These are just the dry goods. We import these beans from Mexico, like some of the meat. But that is refrigerated in hall 2. This direction, please," the suit invited with an expansive gesture. "You will see we are operating strictly within the legal boundaries."
"And you are?" Thane asked briskly. He knew that sort of officious young men, fast-track risers filled with their own importance.
"Theodore Dannings, CEO of Farmers' Delight. You are the officer leading this investigation," the suit's haughty, British accent grated on Thane's mood.