The Life Story of a Deer

“Alright, this could be a problem,” Lavinia said.

“Oh yeah?” Mira replied. “The pile of old cars blocking the bridge could be a problem?”

“I forgot about it, alright?” Lavinia pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the Builder’s barricade. “Let’s just figure out how to get it out of the way.”

That was not the first round of bickering between the two in the short time since leaving Seventy-Seven. Nor would it be their last, if the previous hour was any indicator. But while they argued over how to remove the cars blocking access to the bridge, and Felix sat with Arlo in the shaded grass as the mecha came out of his latest episode, Astus grazed languidly across the weed-speckled roads. What problems in the world of man were of any concern to him? The great cities of old withered and died, the automobiles that once decimated his kind crumbled to rusted shells stacked like a child’s toy by the mountainous Builders, and the world became his.

An awful scraping assailed him, and he snapped his head up. It was only the small one, Mira, pushing one car off another. Astus flicked his ears and returned to grazing.

For countless seasons he’d been set to the yoke of Michael Wilson’s cart and servitude. Any others of his kind, had they seen Astus at work along the routes laid before him, would surely have ridiculed him, or pitied him. A cautionary tale for does to tell their fawn: “Be wary of the humans, children. See him, that mighty stag with the coat of winter’s embrace, as he is put to work for all of his days. If they do not hunt you for food or your fur, they will use you as a common horse.”

True though it was that humans had not fully outgrown their savagery, he never had anything to fear from them. A caravanner’s beast was safe from their appetites and those of other predators, few though there were in those regions. Grass grew wild and free across the black stone rivers he traveled on. And he would not even have survived so long if not for Michael Wilson.

Astus first met the man at only three or four seasons in age, when his newly regrown antlers became entangled in a long-forgotten menace of human society in the wilderness. It was a crossed wire net between wood posts, left abandoned outside of what remained of a human dwelling. The struggle to free himself lasted for days, but his foe was cunning and patient. In the end he lay exhausted with his antlers totally ensnared.

Then through the underbrush he heard footsteps. Turning his head as little as he could manage towards its source, he found a baffled-looking young human. A canteen was in his hand, with droplets of water still gleaming down its side from its recent refilling in the nearby stream. If Astus had any strength left, he likely would have felt as surprised to see the human as the human plainly was to see him. But after his struggling, there was nothing left but to wait for the inevitable as the human approached him and drew a blade.

Astus closed his eyes. The man grabbed his antlers. Then he only felt a light jostling.

“I’ll get you out in no time…” the man said.

He opened his eyes again and found the man kneeling beside him, cutting the wire instead of his throat. It was the closest he’d ever been to a human. He spoke reassuringly to Astus and patted and scratched his neck in the hours-long rescue. There was a palpable nervousness from the human, as if he could whip into a frenzy at any time with more and more of the wire cut away. But he was never a foolish, flighty deer like most of his kin; even if he wasn’t exhausted to the core that would be so.

The trees swallowed the sun by the time the final bit of metal was cut away. The human sat back in the grass and let out a long breath, tired from his work and bloodied by the new velvet cut by the fence. All Astus could do was lay his down in the man’s lap, to his discomfort as more bloody velvet dropped down the front of his shirt. He poured out water to clean himself and for Astus to drink.

The human regained his energy first and carefully shifted out from under Astus’ head. With an awkward goodbye, he trudged off towards the black stone river. But Astus followed. He felt a calling to stay with the man, who saved him, gave him water, and provided satisfactory scratches. The man—who he later learned was called Michael Wilson—grew larger, as did Astus. When he would venture off into the wilds for a time each season, the man was always there when he returned. And return he did, even when Michael fitted him to a yoke and cart, and put him to work travelling the ancient ways of humans, and rented him to the kindly woman and her three children.

Michael Wilson explained the situation while preparing him for travel, speaking openly to clear his mind as he always did. But Astus understood. He had seen, as they all had, the creeping illness within the machine boy. It seemed to afflict him and leave, like the advancing and retreating shadows under the traveling sun. The child was weak and defenseless, as he had been when Michael Wilson discovered him. And so, he accepted the task that was given him.

Astus walked over to the boys on the side of the road, still pulling the cart behind him while the kindly woman and her girl machine remained oblivious. The two boys looked up at him, and he lay down beside them, resting his head in the boy machine’s lap. He reached out hesitantly and scratched Astus’ head; he was not as skilled as Michael Wilson.

“Aw, he’s trying to help you feel better,” Felix said, smiling and joining in the scratching.

“I think he’s just looking for some attention…” Arlo countered. His hand still shook.

“I bet he’s thinking about all kinds of stuff we can’t even imagine.”

Arlo shook his head. “He’s only a deer. He probably doesn’t even understand why he’s with us.”

Astus snorted, but only flicked his ear in protest. His scratching was improving.

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An Ominous Goodbye

Felix had only followed the overgrown railroad tracks a few times before the final time with Arlo. Whenever he stood watching the Builder from afar, he never expected to see it up close. Part of him was too afraid to try. That thing was massive, after all, and he was not. But when the cart made its crawl over the crest of the patched bridge, he couldn’t keep from standing up in the back of it to get a better look at the Builder out among the city.

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It was magnificent.

He could only see it from the waist up behind the buildings, but that was enough. It was a giant encased in dark blue armor and speckled with lights, faceless and segmented and powerful enough to crush every single building it pieced together in that city. The excitement of seeing it up close welled up in Felix until he almost couldn’t contain it.

“Look how close we are to it!” Felix breathed, forcing himself to sit down again.

“Is this your first time seeing the Builder?” Lavinia asked over her shoulder.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve seen it a few times from really far away, and once with Arlo.”

“It is different to see it so close,” Arlo added.

Lavinia smiled. “Wanna meet it?”

Felix paused. He looked from Lavinia out to the Builder and back again, his eyes lit up. All he could muster was a quick nod.

At the base of the bridge, Lavinia drove Astus off to the side and left him to graze among the weeds with Mira on the bench. She declined to go with them, claiming the Builders, “never have anything interesting to say,” despite Lavinia not inviting her anyway.

She walked with Felix and Arlo, holding the mecha’s hand and keeping a slower pace with him to his embarrassed reluctance. They needn’t go far; the trio only made it around a single block before the Builder came to them. It took a single, careful step onto the street and squatted down closer to them. Though Lavinia and Arlo walked closer to it, Felix stopped, his legs locking as he gazed up in wonder to the giant over them.

“Hello, Lavinia,” the Builder greeted. “I was hoping to see you again, before I left.”

“Y-You’re already leaving…?” she asked.

“Yes. Rebuilding for this zone is now complete, and I must move on to the next.”

“Oh.” Lavinia frowned, “I knew this was coming, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon. I’m gonna miss seeing you around here.”

“Your sentiment is appreciated. I will miss speaking with you as well. Is this your child, Arlo?” it asked.

Arlo looked up at the Builder, startled. “You know my name?”

“Lavinia spoke to me about you the last time she was here.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” she admitted.

“And is that your… other child?” the Builder asked, looking past them.

“My other…” Lavinia and Arlo both turned to see Felix further back, sill staring up at the Builder. He waved at it awkwardly. “Oh, no no, he’s not mine. He’s Arlo’s friend, Felix.”

“Hello, Felix.”

“H-Hi…” the boy replied.

“Why did you bring your child and a Felix here on a deer-drawn cart?” it asked her.

“It sounds kinda strange when you put it like that. We’re actually just passing through on our way taking Arlo to an old factory. It’s… important,” she added, squeezing the boy’s hand.

“Your timing was fortuitous, then. But I advise you to be careful on your journey. This world is quiet now, but there are still dangers out in the vast wilds, both corporeal and metaphysical. Some of which are beyond your fragile human existence to withstand, or comprehend.”

“Oh.” Lavinia rubbed the back of her head. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye Lavinia, Arlo, and Felix. I do not believe I will see any of you again, but I would like to.”

The Builder stood up and turned away, then walked off in a thunderous stride. It took only three steps to be clear of the city as it followed the river east, soon disappearing behind their view of the buildings. Arlo and Felix stood watching for a few minutes with Lavinia, who experienced a confusing mixture of sadness and acceptance. The Builder had departed as swiftly and unceremoniously as it first arrived. But they had to do the same now.

“Well, that’s not exactly the meet-up I had in mind,” she said. “Sorry, Felix.”

“What? That was so cool!” the boy replied. He ran across the street to try and get a better view.

Lavinia smiled, “C’mon, we should get back on the road again.”

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Campfire Talk

The sun had set on the first full day on the road, and Arlo hadn’t experienced another incident since the morning. Despite that, the boy still wasn’t back to his normal self. He was withdrawn, solitary, and only talked with Lavinia or Felix when engaged. On the surface that was all normal. But his frail look betrayed any assumption his quiet was willing. If he had blood, no doubt he would have been worryingly pale.

They sat around a campfire Lavinia built with the skills her father taught her as a child. Arlo had gone to sleep early, curled up on a thin sleeping bag beside Felix. The boy sat with Capri on his arm—the bird flying down to find him again once the Builder was a safe distance away—and fed him acorns from a nearby tree.

Lavinia smiled at the scene; she’d never seen a bird so friendly to someone. But Mira, who sat away from them all across the fire hugging her knees, grimaced.

“Why do you like that disgusting thing?” she asked.

“Because he doesn’t judge my life choices and he likes getting pet,” Felix replied as Capri took another acorn from between his fingers. Lavinia glanced over at the girl, and just as quickly looked away.

“Do you really have to sit like that when you’re wearing a skirt?” she asked

“I sit how I want.”

Lavinia rolled her eyes and instead turned to Felix. “So… I don’t mean to pry into something personal, but how long have you been living by yourself?”

“I don’t live by myself, I’ve got—”

“Sorry, sorry, how long have you been living with Capri?” she asked again.

“For a few years,” he said. “I lived with my family in a small village, um… somewhere. When I was younger, a lot of people got sick. We were going to leave, but my parents got sick, and then I did… After that I only had Capri.

“There was a pretty nice cave we lived in, but there wasn’t enough to eat nearby so we had to leave. Then I found some train tracks and followed after them for a while, until Capri kept flying back to me with more and more shiny things. That’s how I found Seventy-Seven, and I just sorta moved into that empty house.”

“And you’re okay there?” Lavinia asked, frowning.

“Yes, the people here—er, at home—are really nice. Mr. Blackwell always makes sure I have enough to eat. And now I have Arlo, so it’s not so lonely anymore!”

The boy’s intention was, doubtless, to reassure her. Yet his answer only further distressed Lavinia—even Mira winced at “anymore.” But there was also a fierce, jealous glare at that line too. Whether Felix realized that or not, he returned to petting Capri and feeding it one last acorn

“Felix… If you want, there’s room in my house. You don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” he said, quickly cutting her off. “I don’t—I mean, I’m… I’m fine. I’ve been living alone with Capri for a long time now.”

“I know, but you don’t have to be alone with him anymore,” she countered.

Felix only yawned and stretched, sending Capri flapping away onto the top off the cart behind them all.

“I’m really sleepy now, so I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight.”

He lay down on his own sleeping bag and curled up so that neither Lavinia nor Mira could see his face. After a few minutes his breathing slowed, and Lavinia sighed. She skewered a carrot from their food supplies and set it over the fire to roast.

“Do you invite every lost kid to move in with you?” Mira asked.

“Not every lost kid,” she said, glancing at the girl.

“Why would you even want an orphan and his bird? Why leave your home to save a broken mecha?”

“Because it’s kind,” Lavinia hissed. “Because it’s right. Because they need help, and I can help them. You really can’t understand that?”

“No,” Mira replied. “I can’t.”

Like Felix moments before, she turned away and curled up on her own sleeping bag, leaving Lavinia the only one awake. Or at least not faking being asleep. She turned her carrot over above the fire and watched as the skin blistered. For Arlo’s sake, she could only hope Mira would understand something as basic as kindness someday.