One hopping Friday evening, in a small town in upstate New York, a 911 call lights up #3 on the switchboard, blinking red nonstop for six minutes. When finally…

“This is dispatch, what is your emergency? Beware, this call will be recorded.”

 A young girl in distress responds… “I’m scared, and I don’t know who to turn to.” Utters a quivering voice on the other end.

“It’s all right, dear, I can help you; say, you don’t sound very old, what’s your name?”

“Lofn… Lofn Shay, and I’m wondering if…”

“Whoa, Miss Shay, not so fast! I will need you to answer a few questions first.”

“What the funk? Okay, I guess?” Like totally flabbergasted…

“First question, Miss Shay: would you ever consider voting for an AI as Americana Presidente?”

“Aah… I don’t know, maybe, but I’m only sixteen.”

“I’m sorry Miss Shay, but I need an affirmative answer before we can continue.”

Exasperated, Lofn yells into the phone, “Pleeeease can I talk to a real person? Get me a representative, now!”

“Miss Shed calm down… stay calm, please, calm please.” Click...click. “Mr. Shed sir… click-click… “I am a real person. Now, tell me, who is your guardian?” click, click… “Your sugar daddy, main squeeze… “click, “sugar pop?” Click… “Now, Mrs. Shot, answer, please…. Please…” click, click.

An extremely agitated Lofn retorts… “All right, you bucket of rusted nuts; I am currently shacked up… no, no! I mean… staying with my uncle while he recovers; he is the sole general manager of the ''Next Gen Cadaver companies.'' Have you ever heard of them? If so, please let me go to the emergency room. I don’t feel like chatting anymore.”   

“Yes, madam, of course; why didn’t you say so? Please remember to have that charming Mr. Big Bolt…” clicking madly… “at… at the front check-in desk, scan the back of your right hand for all your personal info.” Clicking out.

The Ergy Center:

       Nurse: “Where is Lofn Shay? Aah… you’re a cute little doll! Walk this way, follow me please. Hi there, can you tell me your four-digit biopic score?” as they enter a private room.

“Yes, it is *1.0.1.1,” Lofn replies shyly.  

“Very good. Now tell me what ails you this evening, Miss Shay?” (sarcastically)

“Well, for one thing, I’ve been throwing up every morning for the last week, and also I have strange cravings… aah… for peppered leech plugs and dill junkets.”  Instantly, a look of uh-oh crosses Lofn’s face, thinking, did I just say that?

“Umm… sounds scrumptious. So hey, I’m going to do a blood test, but I have a feeling, I know… and I think you also know what’s going on with you. Umm… first, I need to ask, have you ever been accosted by an AI, an over-friendly one, the ‘electro handsy type model? If so, I will need you to fill out a slap form naming the culprit and its groin number, that is, if you got it.”

“Oh no, this was different, I…aah, you see I stay with my uncle Einn sometimes and one moon-lit night… after he had been drinking, and… well, it was raining and…” sobbing into her hands cupped over her face…

“Enough said, Miss Shay, mum''s the word with me. But you know the rules; you are now obligated to live in a home for unwed mothers. If it is found out that you were a victim of incest, well… the thing will have to be aborted under state law within a seven-month term period; also, you will be incarcerated... oh, six months or so, give or take a few weeks. Sorry, but that’s the price you’ll pay for trapping an innocent fellow nowadays. Again, sorry, but it is a state statute… I am going to call for transport to come and pick you up. Also, a word of warning, next time, just say no! It’s going to save me a lot of paperwork in the future.”

The shelter

      Attendant: “Good morning, how did you sleep last night?” Silence… “OK then, I see that you’re the silent type. Well, that’s to be expected; being you are in a strange place, but I’m sure you’ll find that we’re ‘friendly as all get out.’ If you need anything at all, ring the bell on your bed stand; by the way, my name is Mrs. Sounder. Oh, and just a heads-up, the stout orderly, Eron, who also doubles as a Zen dancer on weekends, he’s very limber… will come to your room every day at around 9:30 am to tidy up, best not to make eye contact or talk to him, as is your penchant, catch my drift? And one last thing, the doctor who will be performing the task at hand, ‘so to speak’ will be making his rounds in a few hours, so be on your best behavior, ta-ta, have a splendid day.”

       Months pass at a skewed pace, causing Lofn to harbor ill feelings towards everyone at the shelter, including her childhood brood; none of them ever called or stopped in for a visit. She felt abandoned by her pal base. The only person at the shelter who seemingly gives a hoot is Dr. Nettle. He has stopped by her room once a week for the past few months for corresponding checkups; plus, he''s been giving Lofn much-deserved neck rubs with hot baby oil if she so desired.   

The final week has arrived.

        Dr. Nettle: Whispering hot and raspy, “Hey, Lofn dear,” leaning over rouses emotive tendencies, “Whoa! Easy does it; sorry I woke you; I thought you would welcome this oral thermometer. I warmed it myself… Say, just checking in to see how you are feeling. I will be overseeing your procedure this coming Friday. A local intern, Ian B. Young, is willing and able to manage all the dirty work in my stead. Gotta luv those Interns!”

        Lofn had spent the last few months of her idle time at the shelter contemplating her life choices and how her future would change if she had her precious baby. She pondered over the extenuating circumstances, if… if only… suddenly she blurts out, “Yes! I want my baby, I want to keep my baby, it’s a part of me, I’ll never be lonely or sad again.” And at that very moment, the foundation of the shelter shook, fracturing the core. Imps and vegans shrieked, fleeing down every corridor, back into the fray.

Lofn cried out in desperation, “Dr. Nettle, pleeease Dr. I want to keep my baby, you must stop the procedure, I need my baby, my baby needs me… please help me!!! Please, can you do something?”

“Calm down, shh… quiet! Let me think… I’ll, ah… I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, I need you to stay in your room till I contact you later with my answer.”

 A while later, after talking to a business cohort, Dr. Nettle returns, “Lofn… yes, I will help you. But I’ll need to rectify the paperwork to show that you are older than sixteen and that the baby is not your uncle’s. Now, please hang tight and refrain from discussing this with anyone. I’ll run the risk of losing my license trying to help you… You’ll owe me big time.”

Several days later

       The wailing cries of a teenage girl in travail cascade through the maze of halls, which no one could escape…

Lofn is finally able to hold her baby girl. She names her Rosa, meaning,

‘The sweet fragrance of life’  

Then… “Hello, Lofn, my name is Nurse Thumper. I’m what you’d call a Mid mother, and I must say, you have given life to the most precious child in this shelter. She is adorable.” Lofn‘s countenance lights up the room. “I see she has your turned-up nose.” Tapping it ever so softly with her index finger, “And I do believe she has your uncle’s… outie of a belly button, and look at those rosy-flushed cheeks, I could just pinch them till they pop. You must be the proudest little mother around. Ahh… but here’s the thing, though, I will need to place Rosa inside an incubator since she is a preemie; but don’t you worry none, she’ll be in fine hands, why you can trust most of our staff to give her our undivided attention.”

“That’s good to know… but can I snuggle with her a while longer? I can feed her too; I have milk... see.” Squirting a little out on the floor.

“Dr. Nettle says no! I’m so sorry, but these are the rules, and besides, Rosa will be right next door; this is a Jack and Jill room, and you are only a few steps apart.”

Nurse Thumper ever so gently caresses baby Rosa to her breast as she waddles (a big but and one leg shorter than the other) like a duck; she cautiously and gently transports Rosa into the next room, and places her in the incubator; she gazes intently, talking baby speak, turns, and closes the door between the rooms.

Lofn sobs quietly… “Mommy will pray for you, Rosa, my sweet baby girl… I’ll see you soon.” With that said, Lofn falls into a dreamy sleep.

       On the other side of town, Elias stands on the corner of 5th and Main, wringing his hands after reading the message from heaven, which only he can decipher, displayed on Macy’s giant digital marquee. Cold beads of sweat and bursting capillaries swell and drip from one vertebra to the next… giving him the nasty fidgets or shiver quips, lighting up every nerve ending in his body; a quick jolt; and the quivering calms. He asks God, in a polite tone of course, “Why, tell me I pray, why does someone so young and faultless have to die?” No answer came… as the commotion from the city streets escalated, drowning out an edict.

The next day at the shelter, a sedated and weary Lofn awakes upon hearing the door between her room and Rosa’s… slowly drift shut. Out of the corner of one sly eye, she notices a figure dressed in a white hazmat suit carrying an organ transplant cooler. The figure quietly slipped away and down the corridor, disappearing into the flickering lamp light. Lofn’s heart pounds hard and fast as she struggles to make her way into Rosa’s room. She pushes open the door, holding fast to the jamb with her other hand… squinting, trying to fix her focus on the inside of the incubator… gone!

“No, no, no… Rosa, my baby… stop that man! He stole my baby!” Crying uncontrollably and sinking to the floor, pinned between the door and jamb. Nurse Thumper waddles into the room after hearing screams. She helps Lofn back to her feet and onto the bed, where they both sit for a moment.

Sobbing hysterically, Lofn relates to nurse Thumper what she saw, exclaiming that Dr. Nettle lied, saying, “They took my baby, he said that I could keep her… that shyster! Do you know where they have taken Rosa? Tell me now, please!”

“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t have the heart to tell you. Yes, the plan was to use your baby for research, just like all the others. But you figured that, didn’t you? you were wary the whole time, you didn’t want to own it.”

“No, he said I could keep her, he said…” fading off into a deep sleep… after another sedative injection.

“There you go, that’s right, sleep it off, in the morning you won’t remember anything, as today will be gone, and who knows about tomorrow and the pain it might bring?” Nurse Thumper gently lays Lofn back onto the pillow, pulling up the sheet, while snuggling close to her for a short period.

        Later that same day, Elias arrives at his next appointment, and when he opens the door, he finds… emptiness, his next case is gone! Turning, he notices a young lady sleeping in the next room. He gently rouses the young woman to inquire if she saw anyone suspicious removing a baby who had been placed in the incubator?

“Sorry, miss, I have to ask, did you give birth to a little girl three days ago?”

“Yeah, I… ahem,” clearing her throat, “I think I did?” Still groggy… “Who might I inquire are you? Aah… never mind… I don’t even care… get out, leave me alone, please go away!” Trying to focus and barely awake, she rolls onto her side, covering her face with the sheet.

Her words struck a flat chord; at that moment, Elias knew what had gone down.

He had heard horror stories about this facility down on the street. It was a government-funded entity, and certain babies born out of wedlock were often sold to the highest bidder of genome cell research; they called them the ‘Next Gen cadaver companies, or the NGCC.

He realized that the baby had been stolen, meaning to be sacrificed for experimental purposes. It was now out of his hands. There was nothing more he could do; he had arrived too late.

As Elias starts towards the exit, a faint voice utters, “If you sit with me, I’ll tell you my sordid story.”

“Why yes, I would like that, that is… if you feel up to it?”

So, Lofn emptied her soul to Elias, not knowing who he was or why he was there; she only knew he was a prophet figure she could trust. Elias never offered up any details of his own, knowing that it would upset her even more. He listened intently, then replied, “If everything you state is true, I’ll need to get you out of here!”

“But how, this shelter has tight security? Besides, I’ll need to reside at a secure location. Can you get me to a ‘Safe House?” Lofn advocates, as tears swell up.

“Yes, I can.” Thinking fast… “Grab your belongings, cover yourself, put on a robe, and follow me.”

Elias affectionately wrapped his fingers snugly around Lofn’s hand and sneaked down a vacant corridor, narrowly getting snagged by Nurse Thumper.

Elias spots a dumbwaiter by the ice fridge where the three corridors intersect… then helps Lofn contourite to fit inside it. “Listen,” he warns, “I want you to hold fast till I get back to you.” He lowers it past the kitchen exit into the basement. Then, incognito Elias slipped past anyone he saw in the stairwell by temporarily using a ‘face shadow’ to make them think he was the stout orderly, Eron; he then located and unlatched the dumbwaiter door, helping Lofn to unfurl her way out of the small box and regain her dexterity, reminiscent of setting a slinky in motion down a stairway.

Exiting the building via the basement rear door left little time for respite.  Abruptly, Elias scans the area and notices a white-sleeved-arm signal from the driver’s side window of his brother Grot’s classic sedan. “Go!” He shouts to Lofn as she sprints towards the car, sip-sopping through mud puddles… franticly she yanks open a creaky rear door… sliding into the dusty, fly-infested back seat… keeping her head low and out of sight from Nurse Thumper, who by now is calling for all-hands-on deck for patient retrieval.  

The Portal

      What seemed like a torrid hour… whizzed by in minutes as the three arrived for a bumpy touchdown onto Route 973 East. The Olds sedan maneuvered a sharp left turn onto Klump road… swaying back into a hard right-hand corner, tossing its occupants side to side as they white-knuckled the door handles for stability... finally, the Olds pulled onto a long gravel driveway; “Oh how I love that sound, sweet music to my ears, ‘gravel crunching under cartwheels,” Lofn exclaimed!

Just a few feet from the left berm, Lofn noticed a ghostly plateaued cemetery, called Haren Dale, which was the name on the weathered placard, swinging by the last nail, securing it to a rotted pillar at the entrance. The side hill surrounding the old graveyard seemed to resemble a ‘dam’ walling in its slumbering prisoners, concealing their eternal home with a covering of flowering honeysuckle. But…where are the honeybees? Lofn pondered.

Bordering the dusty cul-de-sac berm was a scant weed-infested backyard leading up to a dilapidated farmhouse; flanked to the right was a weather-beaten old barn, its equal.

 From the side window, Lofn snatches a glimpse of a century''s worth of sinking headstones but doesn’t spot a fresh mound. Tears well up, “Is this why you brought me here to visit my child’s grave?”

No one uttered a word; time lapsed for a moment, as all nature was hushed.  Lofn kicked open the creaky car door with both feet and jumped from the rust bucket before it finished crawling to a stop! She scuttled from one headstone to the next, clearing webs and grass with her fingers, peering at each name… “Where is my baby Rosa? Show me her grave!” Dropping to her knees, grabbing a fistful of dried sage, she wipes her tears; “I want to see her grave, I need to, please!” Just then, a compassionate hand gently squeezed her right shoulder, causing the hysteria to flame out. Turning and glancing up, her sullen face scared with tears; misty-eyed, she gazed at a face she didn’t recognize at first, but felt she anywise knew... blurting out, “Elias, is it you?”

         “Yes, child, lend me your hand, Lofn, walk with me, let us stroll together down by this side hill crown, where a flowering thicket of matted twine weaves in and over limb and path as to eclipse the ground. Where flower clusters burst into a dream cloud of perky white, flaunting a style extrude ere… hottest waves of summer blight. Notice how their fragrance attracts and is the reason for our craze… therefore, would the Lord God who created ‘all life’ care if we indulge purely for their scent? At last no… but admire from a distance their beauty parlayed without loss or regret!”

With both his hands paused around Lofn’s waist, he helps her onto the neglected farmhouse porch… escorting her to the back door, where he exclaims… “Once you enter this home, you will be safe, leaving all your pain behind.” But, before Elias could turn the doorknob, a fussing tirade erupted inside, permeating the house structure… Elias staid his hand for a moment; Lofn, puzzled, grasps the doorknob, brushing her way past Elias. Upon entering the kitchen, she scans the rooms intently, gasping, “I know that cry, that’s my Rosa, my dear baby girl, Praise be!!”  She leaned over the bassinet and picked Rosa up, cuddling her to her breast, swaying to the music of their blended heartbeats. Lofn danced and twirled, overjoyed… but, peering through a window… a familiar object sitting on the porch caught her eye… a cooler with the initials, NGCC… just then, Rosa coos, “Mama,” Click, zap, clink!     

The end, for now.