A Real Boy

Sensitive content: animal cruelty

Somewhere in the countryside of Merida. Mexico, a bruja blanca knelt in the womb of a dark and wet cave. The witch’s shadow climbed the wall behind her as she set the lantern down. Her chest rose and fell as her breath came out in a warm mist. Only then did the middle-aged sorceress begin to dig at the virgin clay before her. The clay squelched as she added another handful, and then another until it began to take the form of a small human. Concepciòn had never created an alux before, but her grandmother taught her as a child. An alux, called a sprite in some countries, and a fairy in others, was typically only three foot tall, but Concepciõn added an extra inch to her alux for courage. An alux, in exchange for a place to live, food and an occasional trinket, helped their creators with chores on the farms and ranches across Mexico. Concepciõn used her thumbs on each side of the alux’s face to massage two high cheekbones into place, and then pinched and smoothed out a high bridged nose, resembling her own. Finally, she added one arched eyebrow, to add character and a curious mind. Then she held her head back and looked the alux over. She noticed she had left her fingerprint across its chest. Concepciòn dipped the pad of her index finger in a cool puddle of water, meaning to smooth it away, but decided to leave the impression over his heart. Then she cut her finger with the tip of a razor blade and squeezed her eyes tight as clay mixed with sweat rushed to fill the wound. Concepciòn held the gash above the clay statue. Dark drops splattered on the forehead of the alux. When the ninth drop flowered and began to drip down its face, the clay stomach expanded with air. The alux opened its eyes wide as his first breath left his new lungs with a whimper. Its eyes fluttered as it looked around the cave, until it finally held his gaze on his creator. Concepciòn scooped him into her arms and held him against her chest, rocking him as she hummed a lullaby. Then she swaddled the alux, tied him across her chest and walked the path toward home in the amber light of a harvest moon. 

The next day, Concepciõn made over an old chicken coop into a comfortable outdoor home for her alux. For the first week, she fed him masa mixed with goat’s milk. The alux gulped it up and grew strong. She taught him to care for the horses on the ranch and tend to the fields of corn.

It was the alux’s job to to keep thieves and predators away from the stables. As the years passed, his favorite time of morning was his first visit with the horses. There were seven of them, four mares and three steeds. The alux named them all within the first week, but Luna was his favorite. When they first met, she snuffled the top of the alux’s head with her snout, and he immediately adored her. He pulled up a stool, stroked the silver hair of her neck and then ran his fingers through the jet-black hair of her mane, which was beginning to gray with age. Luna looked up at the alux and neighed her approval. The alux pulled a small green apple from his pocket and held it out for her. After she snapped it up, he jumped down from the stool, and filled her pails with corn and fresh water.

When the alux finished caring for the other horses, he came back and saddled Luna up for a ride. They rode up and down the rows of corn, patrolling for rats and stopping to peel away any brown husks that could stunt the growth of the new cobs, just like Concepciòn had taught him.

When he got back, after letting the horses out to run in the corral, the alux saw that Concepciõn had left a piping bowl of pazole on the front door of his coop. He let the spoon fall as he cupped the hot bowl in his hands and slurped the lime infused broth in big gulps, swallowing the tender bits of chicken and buttery hominy whole. Then he licked his lips and wiped bits of onion and cilantro off his chin before belching with satisfaction into the cool air.

Before he could set the bowl down, the alux felt a presence nearby and quickly turned his head in its direction. A shadow disappeared into the stable. The alux shape shifted into a wolf and slunk over to the stable. One of the horses was kicking around in its pen in a loud clatter and neighing her displeasure at the visitor. It was Luna’s pen. What looked like a gruesome hairless dog had perched on all fours, looking down from the top of the gated pen in a sneer at Luna. The alux growled and crouched, ready to leap. The canine swung its head around and glared at the alux. Its eyes were red, and drool dripped from its yellowed fangs. The alux’s hair stood up on his arched back. He leapt at the creature and grabbed it by the neck. A crack, like a green stick breaking, was heard as the alux swung the dog down into the dirt, panting.

Minutes later, he dropped the hairless corpse off in a thicket of trees far away from the stables. He released the creature gently from his jaw and stared down at it, before hanging his head and turning toward home.

Two emerald eyes opened in the dark behind the alux, watching as he shape-shifted from a wolf back into a small man-like form. The woman bent to pick up the carcass and held the dog to her body before kissing its head. Several chupacabra, brothers and sisters of the dead, appeared from the woods, crimson eyes shining. They surrounded the diabla and howled in grief.

           After that night, Concepciõn welcomed the alux into her home. She gave him his own room and wondered why she hadn’t brought him into her home on the night he was created. The weeks and months passed, and she began to call him Alex. She brought him breakfast in bed on Saturdays and never allowed him to work on Sundays. That was the day she made him menudo with pig’s feet and if he was lucky, there was a pile of tamales, wrapped like gifts in golden corn husks. The best day of Alex’s life, however, was when he woke up to balloons in his room and a marbled tres leches cake topped with eight candles.

           The years passed and Alex rode Luna to inspect the property every day until she began to get arthritis in her knees. He continued to walk beside her through the fields and brought her a green apple every day.

           One night, as Alex did a perimeter check around the stable, he heard one of the horses kick a metal pail over as it whinnied and thrashed about its stall. Alex crept over toward the commotion. A familiar growl gave Alex chicken skin. Before he could yell, he was flat on his back as ivory fangs snapped at his face. Alex rolled over before his throat was gored, but instead felt claws slice into his back. He could not bleed as an alux, but he felt pain like any other. He screamed as the dog-like creature lunged at him again. It was a chupacabra, it's red eyes the only light in the dark. Alex tried to scurry away but could not. He willed himself invisible but remained tangible. The animal leapt at Alex, fangs bared. A rope of saliva hung from its black gums.

“Stop!”

The command came from the opposite side of the stable. A shadow in the shape of a woman glided forth. The chupacabra whimpered and bowed down to the figure. The horses grew quiet. Alex noticed the sounds of grasshoppers and flying insects had stopped, as well.

“You are an alux, are you not?” the woman commanded.

“Yes,” Alex answered with a shiver.

“You do the work of five men and for what?” she queried.

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“In return for fighting off horse thieves, coyotes, and rats from the fields, you were awarded with sleeping with chickens for the first seven years of your life?”

Alex looked down and did not reply. He saw a light coming from the direction of the house. It was Concepciõn walking with a lantern.

“I will grant you the miracle of living as a real child, but you must prove your faith in me first,” the diabla explained.

“Bring your favorite mare to me where the roads diverge during a harvest moon. Wait under the pochote tree and relinquish her to my care. Your wish will be granted by dawn.” 

Alex screamed as the light from the lantern shone from his creator’s uplifted hand. Alex could see the face of the diabla. Her skin hung thin and weathered from her bony skull. Alex tried to scream again, but the sound would not form as he watched her emerald eyes, sunk into black sockets, disappear into the night. Concepciõn did not allow Alex to walk the grounds at night alone after this.

On Alex’s 10^th birthday, Concepciõn invited her sister and family over to celebrate. She made heaps of pork carnitas and piles of sweet corn tortillas along with a flan blanketed in a caramel glaze. Alex led the festivities as he and Concepciõn’s nephews took turns hitting the pinatã and riding the younger horses around the property. Alex won most of the matches playing football that evening, but not by trying too hard. He was simply faster than his human peers. Alex did a little dance with the black and white stitched ball spinning in one hand, when one of the boys tackled him to the ground.

“Ah-hah! Go back to your chicken coop, A-LUX!!” another boy cheered.

The other boys ran, laughing into the house, leaving Alex by himself. Alex sighed and walked with his head down toward the stables. After feeding the horses, he made his way back to the house. A few of the adults were standing on the back porch, smoking rolled cigarettes as cicadas circled above. Alex ducked behind a tree as he heard them talk.

“Why do you let the alux sleep in the house?” Concepciõn’s brother-in-law asked.

“He has served me well,” Concepciõn answered, “besides, he’s made in my blood. He’s like a son,” she finished.

Alex let his breath out, not realizing he had been holding it in.

“He can’t replace Felipe,” her sister replied.

“He can’t replace my son, but he’s all I have,” Concepción explained as she wiped at her eyes.

           Alex dropped to his knees and leaned his head on the trunk of the tree. He traced the lines of the fingerprint on his chest, not finding the usual comfort of this ritual.

           After everyone sang Feliz Cumpleaños and devoured the flan, Alex left the group and went to his creator’s room. He picked up a framed picture of Concepciõn who stood in an embroidered dress next to a boy with curly black hair. He glanced around the room. Medals and trophies for equestrian sports dotted the room. Frayed stuffed toys gathered on her dresser and a framed christening gown hung over them. Next to the toys was a framed award, thanking Felipe for his service in the Cristero War from 1926 until his heroic death in 1929. Alex heard someone walking into the room and quickly put the framed document down. It was Concepciõn’s brother-in-law, smelling of mezcal and cigarette smoke.

“You don’t belong in here, Alux,” the man declared.

Alex looked down at the floor.

“Oops, I meant to say Al-EX,” the man said with a smirk, “sorry if I misspoke.”

“Hey, I was only kidding,” he tried to reassure as Alex stormed past him.

But Alex was already running away through the house. He tripped over a pair of cowboy boots in the hallway, and the boys began to point and laugh, hugging their stomachs as if they might burst.

           Alex raced to the stable and put Luna’s saddle on as fast as he could. The mare seemed confused, as she hadn’t gone through this ritual in a while. She cooperated with her master none-the-less. Alex rode Luna all the way to where the roads diverged and rested his head on the back of Luna’s neck under a pochote tree, hugging her as tight as he could. He wondered if it was a harvest moon, he hadn’t thought to check, but the diabla finally appeared.

“Will you show your faith in return for the life of a real child?”

Alex was silent.

“Will you entrust your most beloved possession to me?”

“Will you harm her?” Alex asked.

“She will live the rest of her life well fed and as happy as a mare can be,” the diabla promised.

Alex hugged Luna once more, before jumping off and whispering,

“Thank you for this gift, Luna.”

He gave her an apple from his pocket and handed the reign over before walking off into the night. He couldn’t look at Luna any longer and settled down into the chicken coop once home. He did not want to face Concepciõn. 

           When Alex woke, he was laying on his side, but he felt plywood pressing at his body from every side. His long, hairy legs hung out on one side, almost touching the ground. Alex punched at the plywood roof until the nails gave way. He stood up from the coop at almost twice his original size. Alex looked in wonder at his hands. They were covered in branch-like blue veins. Alex felt a thumping in his chest that made him feel alive with every beat. Alex felt the sun warm his skin for the first time.

           Alex made his way back to the house and saw a pink bakery box tied with twine on the porch. A note was folded and tucked under the twine. He unfolded the note and the diabla’s voice filled his head as he looked at the jumble of letters:

“Eat this immediately, or the spell will break by nightfall.”

           Alex opened the box and saw an empanada, perfectly browned, and crimped at the edges with a fork. His mouth filled with saliva and his stomach growled. Alex shoved the end of the empanada in his mouth and took a big bite. It was filled with shredded meat, perfectly salted and tender. Broth ran down Alex’s chin as he sat on the porch and took another large bite. Alex ate ecstatically mouthful after mouthful. He was surprised by the noises coming from his throat as he chewed, like the growls he heard from wolves eating their prey. As Alex slowed down, he bit down on gristle and frowned. He picked it out of his mouth and threw it. The flavor of the meat became rancid, and he swallowed the last mouthful whole to rid himself of the taste. His stomach gurgled and began to hurt.

Alex sat down as he began to feel weak. He felt something stuck in his teeth. Alex picked at it until it dislodged and held it up for inspection. It felt like a short, course piece of hair. He angled it in the light and squinted to see better. It was a silver hair shining in a halo of sunlight. A wave of recognition kicked Alex in the gut. He curled up on the porch and felt his body shake. His stomach heaved up and down until he finally cried out, unwilling to believe he didn’t care enough to ask the diabla how long Luna’s life would be.

           Concepciõn ran to the door and swung the porch screen open. She scooped Alex up onto her lap. She hugged him close as she did the night he was created, and looked over his long and lanky body, eyes wide in disbelief.

“What have you done, Mijo?” Concepciòn asked as she cradled and rocked Alex in her arms.

Alex was unable to speak. He looked out beyond the property where he lived for ten years and actually saw the countryside before him for the first time. Multiple shades of blue were painted in swaths across the sky. The mountains where he was born stood in the distance, arching their backs into the clouds after a long sleep. Alex looked out onto the new horizon and the scene blurred into a colorful mess. Alex sobbed and felt the warmth of his mother’s body against his own for the first time, and the the pain was finally bearable.