Twins. That’s the word the doctor says when he comes into the waiting room. I hasten into the bleached operating room and find Julia, my wife, sitting up on the bed. She isn’t smiling.

And who would?
It’s been nearly three hundred years since Jonathan Swift offered his diabolical proposal to the government, and his procedures are still in effect. Julia and I protest against his actions, but it is severely frowned upon to be one of the Humanitarians, the group of Dubliners who inveigh against Swift’s proposal.

The door opens and Reverend Mitchell, the Cathedral’s reverend, and the doctor enter. The doctor pushes the bassinets that contain our twin sons, Sean and Kiernan. Julia grasps my hands. The doctor wordlessly leaves the room.

The Reverend sets The Box onto the table and says a prayer. He dips his forefingers into black ink and paints a cross on Sean and Kiernan’s foreheads. He blesses each of them and opens The Box.

The Box contains two slips of paper. One says “Live” and one says, “Utilize.” Julia begins to whimper. The Reverend puts his hand into the box and gropes around. He withdraws a white slip of parchment. He recites yet another prayer.

“Please...” I whisper, barely audible, but Julia seems to acknowledge me. The Reverend begins to unfold the piece of paper, the one that holds Sean’s fate. He looks at it and there is a pause. He slowly turns it towards us. The word “Live” shines at us. Julia screams with happiness. I let out a huge sigh of relief. The Reverend paints a red circle around Sean’s cross and moves the bassinet to the other side of the room, next to Julia.

I glance at Sean, our first son. Then, I look at Kiernan, his brother, still awaiting his results. The Reverend replaces the “Live” slip and repeats his procedures. Sean begins to cry.

Julia smiles weakly when the piece of paper is drawn out. It looks just like the first one. I feel a shimmer of hope. The Reverend frowns and shows us the word.

“Utilize,” says the Reverend solemnly, and takes my son from the room.


Three months later, Sean’s christening is held at the Dublin Cathedral and Reverend Mitchell welcomes us. The Reverend is renowned for his christenings that exceed all others in Dublin. Sean is christened and the celebration banquet is held in the adjoining room. Julia walks in with Sean and begins to mingle. I cross to the food table and examine the dishes.
Turkey, ham, sandwiches, fruit, chocolate, and, of course, a fat, utilized baby, lying on a silver platter. One of the prerogatives of attending your own child’s christening is that you have a choice if you want to utilize the sacrificed baby or not. Some of the guests eye it hungrily, but I don’t give it more than a glance, but suddenly, my head snaps back to it. I approach slowly and see Julia on the other side of the table, watching cautiously. She shrieks, throws her hands to her mouth, her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she collapses to the floor.
I lean down and stare Kiernan in the face.