The Meadow 177 supposed it was just as well they didn’t know what they were missing. This didn’t make him feel sad, as he had expected. What was it that he felt? The same feeling when he watched Karen joking around with Jimmy, when he saw some guy in a rest stop yelling after his kid to get him a soda. Neutered. He moved forward with greater urgency, but not so fast that he’d upset the herd. He’s pretty sure what he was doing was illegal, but he wanted 2456 to feel what it was like to be free, and Jim imagined the call he’d make to Jimmy telling him about the mission, how he’d watched 2456 run across the field, his coat glistening in the moonlight. Jim waded into the sea of animals, searching and pushing each steer aside. He’d been in for 15 minutes when he found him: 2456. “Friend,” he said. “We’re going to break out of here.” Jim walked out of the pile, pulling 2456 by his ear tag, bumping into the other steers and waiting for them to shift their girth to let Jim and 2456 pass. He reached the gate, unlatched it, and slapped 2456 on his rear. The animal snorted, turned around, and walked back to the others. “No,” Jim whispered. “Not that way.” He pulled the steer back through the gate, then ran back and closed it. 2456 just stood there, waiting to be let back in. “What the hell is wrong with you? Go! Be free!” Jim waved his arms. “Head for the hills.” 2456 stood by the gate patiently. The grass under his nose and the rump in front of him was all he could imagine. That was this poor creature’s life—head down, cud in cheek, moving forward to the next station. “The next stop is the end,” Jim said, holding an imaginary gun to his head. “This is your chance.” 2456 didn’t heed Jim’s words; just waited at the gate to be let back in and join his brothers. Jim opened the gate and 2456 sauntered back in, steadily and nobly. “You let me down, boy,” he said. 2456 didn’t look back as he disappeared into the mass.
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