Amyellyn Anderson - "Instant Life"

t was one of those freakishly hot October days when the classroom reeked of chalk and disinfectant. Malena slumped at her desk, glad to be rid of her fourth-graders for another few hours. The hands of the wall clock inched toward four-thirty as she downed the last of her bottled water and reached for the first essay on top of the towering pile in front of her. Bound in red construction paper, it bore the title "My Dog Chelsea" and was decorated with a pasted-on magazine photo of a poodle. Malena smiled at the childish lettering and scanned the report. She'd been pleased with the kids' enthusiasm for the project, a month-long observation of their pets' activities and habits and descriptions of their care and feeding. They'd really seemed to welcome the chance to gather information and keep a weekly journal, something definitely unusual in an average group of nine-year-old boys and girls. Oh well, she thought, just wait until they discover each other. Then Mom will get to walk Chelsea all the time.
Scribbling "Very Good" and "Wow!" in various margins, Malena made her way through the stack of booklets. Most described dogs and cats of varying degrees of cuteness. Zoey Perkins wrote about her pygmy marmoset, whose favorite food was Froot Loops. Richard Loomis included pictures of his older brother's albino ball python -- yuck! -- at feeding time. She shuddered and quickly turned the page before the image of the snack-ready white mouse could burn its way into her brain.
She picked up the last essay, which was covered in grey paper and meticulously lettered. Another Emma masterpiece, she thought. The poor kid was coping amazingly well, considering her newly acquired (and, Malena suspected, much-resented) status as an older sister. Emma's mother had recently given birth after a difficult pregnancy, according to the teacher's-lounge rumor mill. The baby was premature, and Emma had been left mostly on her own while her parents spent nearly a month rushing to and from the hospital. In spite of everyone's concern, Emma had gone about her business as usual, seemingly unaffected by her situation at home. Malena couldn't help wondering what it was in Emma's makeup that helped her cope in such a way. More than I could have handled at nine...or even nineteen, she mused.
The cover of Emma's report was plain, unadorned with photographs or drawings like those her classmates had used so liberally. Knowing that the red pen wouldn't be getting much of a workout on this effort, Malena leaned back and began reading.

First Week
I bought a package of Sea-Monkeys so I could have a pet to write about for this project. The package had a container, some envelopes with the eggs and their food and one called Instant Life, and a little spoon you use to feed them. I followed all the directions and mixed up the water in the container for them to live in. The next day I mixed in the eggs and stirred them around. They were very small when they hatched and they did not look like the drawings in the book. They just looked like pieces of dust that were moving around in the water. Next week I will feed them with the Sea-Monkey food from the little yellow spoon, because they are only babies they use the small end. When they get big then they use the larger end.

Malena smiled. She remembered her own childhood brine-shrimp cultivation. More than anything, she remembered how disappointed she'd been when her own Sea-Monkeys turned out utterly unlike the comic-book illustrations. No little arms and legs with cute flippers; no little crowns and hair bows. Some kids had their first major shock with the Santa Claus revelation. She'd begun growing up when she found out the truth about Sea-Monkeys.

Second Week
I fed the Sea-Monkeys for the first time today. They are quite a lot bigger than they were last week, and swim in a very strange way. They swim on their backs. They have lots of little wavy legs. When I put the food in the water they all swam up very fast to eat it, and it was gone very quickly. There are too many to keep track of, or I would give them names.

Third Week
My Sea-Monkeys are very big now. The biggest ones are about one inch long. On Wednesday I was looking at them in the moonlight and I saw that their teeth are beginning to come in. They are very long and sharp.

Teeth? Since when did Sea-Monkeys have teeth? For that matter, when did Sea-Monkeys get to be an inch long after only a couple of weeks? Malena had managed to keep a tankful alive for four months, and the biggest of that lot only measured half an inch or so. Wondering if Emma might be at last seeking the attention she'd been lacking for so long, she shook her head and read on.

I gave them the rest of the food because they were beginning to bite each other the way my fish used to before they died. But they ate it all very fast and then I had nothing to feed them. So I gave them the food the fish used to eat and soon that was gone too. Finally I got a piece of cold potato out of the refrigerator and fed them that. They did not seem to like it too much, so I am going to try to feed them different things and see what they will like to eat. I am also going to put them into the tank from my fish because they are getting too big for their little container. I know what it is like to not have enough room all of a sudden and I do not want this to happen to my pets.

Telling, thought Malena. She'd never known Emma to have such an imagination. The little girl had always seemed, if anything, to be almost too literal. Why would Emma choose a science project to start making up stories which she'd never been able to produce for English class?

Fourth Week
Here is what the Sea-Monkeys like to eat best:

1. Tuna fish
2. Raw hamburger meat

I tried the tuna fish because I read the label on the fish food and saw that it had shrimp in it. We did not have any shrimp so I decided tuna was good too. The raw hamburger was because my mom was making hamburgers for supper and I took a bit when she left to go change my little sister. They liked this the best of all and ate it up really quickly. I noticed that a few hours after they ate it, they had gotten much bigger than they used to be. It might be hard to do this, but I am going to try to keep giving them raw meat. They will eat it cooked but do not like it as much.

I spent all my money buying the Sea-Monkeys and so I will have to use what we have in the house. Mom does not cook much anymore, but I think I know how I can get a lot of pet food in a hurry. The Sea-Monkeys are getting very, very big. I love watching them very much. They are sort of my babies to take care of and watch out for, like my mom and dad take care of my little sister.

Malena lay the report carefully down on her desk. She rubbed her knuckles across her closed eyes. Clearly the time had come to have a little talk with Emma's mother. Carnivorous Sea-Monkeys? What happened to normal, everyday imaginary friends? she asked herself. Sighing, she headed to the telephone in the guidance office.
The next day during recess, Malena sat across the guidance-office table from Emma's mother. Mrs. Russo, a small dark-haired woman, was showing all the strain of her latest offspring's entry into the world, and Malena wasn't really looking forward to giving her more stress over her firstborn. Her attention shifted to the baby, whose carrier sat squarely on the table between them. The infant, like most newborns, had an air of elderly dignity superimposed on a tiny, wrinkled face and body. She noticed that the baby wore heavy booties and mittens, in spite of the day's intense heat. Odd to be so protective of one and not the other, she couldn't help wondering. She applied her best parent-conference smile and plunged in.
"Mrs. Russo, Emma is a wonderful child. Her schoolwork is excellent, and so is her behavior. Lately, though, I've been a bit...concerned about how she may be reacting to the addition to the family."
Mrs. Russo stiffened slightly, but didn't respond. Malena was already regretting having dragged this tired woman over for such a seemingly unimportant chat. Reminding herself that it was probably best to just voice her uneasiness and be reassured of Emma's stable home life, she handed the little girl's journal to her mother.
"This is Emma's science project, Mrs. Russo. Please take a look, and you'll see why I wanted you to come in today. It's a little more - shall we say, creative than the other children's journals. Not that creativity is bad, but I think you'll agree that this isn't Emma's usual style."
Emma's mother read the neatly printed pages slowly, hardly blinking. The dark circles under her eyes were huge, larger than Malena had ever seen on anyone. When Mrs. Russo neared the report's conclusion, she seemed to grow even paler.
"My goodness," said Mrs. Russo quietly. "I can understand why you wanted to talk--"
"Oh, good," Malena interrupted. "I know things haven't been easy for any of you, and since Emma's always been so mature for her age, it's natural to forget that she's still a little girl with a little girl's needs. And she's never seemed to have any close friends her own age, so you can see why -"
"You don't have to worry, Miss Gillis," continued Mrs. Russo. "Emma's made it pretty clear that she's not quite...comfortable with the way her life has changed. I guess I had no idea she'd write something like this for school."
Inexplicably, Malena felt intense relief at Mrs. Russo's words. "Pretty imaginative, huh? I mean, Sea-Monkeys that eat raw hamburger? Your little girl may have more creative talent than you realized, Mrs. Russo!"
"Yes, Emma's very original," Mrs. Russo agreed. "I'd show you her Sea-Monkeys myself - they're really very ordinary - but they somehow got knocked over this morning right after Emma left for school. She doesn't know yet. I'll tell her when she gets home."
"Poor Emma," sympathized Malena. She rose to conclude the conversation, and Mrs. Russo followed suit. The baby, evidently in some discomfort - time for a bottle? -- began to squirm and cry. While Emma's mother struggled with the diaper bag, Malena began to coo and tickle the baby under her tiny chin. "Sweetie, you're awfully little to cause such a fuss! Yes, you are!" Realizing that she'd lapsed into baby talk, she quickly busied herself with retying a bow on one of the tiny booties. Mrs. Russo turned abruptly and practically snatched the carrier away from Malena. The bootie came loose from the baby's foot as the infant carrier flew past Malena's nose.
"I'll take care of her. We really have to be going right now..." Mrs. Russo said, her voice rising in alarm.
But it was too late. In growing horror, Malena glanced from the knitted pink bootie to the small foot, feeling her stomach turn as she saw the tiny, bloody stumps which had once been toes...