Educated

Dad’s head got caught, the blades wouldn’t even slow, just hack through his
neck and keep chomping.
Now that he was sure the machine worked, Dad motioned for Luke to take
over, and Luke, ever eager to please, stepped forward. Five minutes later
Luke’s arm was gashed to the bone and he was running toward the house,
blood spurting.
Dad scanned his crew. He motioned to Benjamin, but Benjamin shook his
head, saying he liked his fingers attached, thanks anyway. Dad looked
longingly at the house, and I imagined him wondering how long it would take
Mother to stop the bleeding. Then his eyes settled on me.
“Come here, Tara.”
I didn’t move.
“Get over here,” he said.
I stepped forward slowly, not blinking, watching the Shear as if it might
attack. Luke’s blood was still on the blade. Dad picked up a six-foot length of
angle iron and handed me the end. “Keep a good hold on it,” he said. “But if
it bucks, let go.”
The blades chomped, growling as they snapped up and down—a warning, I
thought, like a dog’s snarl, to get the hell away. But Dad’s mania for the
machine had carried him beyond the reach of reason.
“It’s easy,” he said.
I prayed when I fed the first piece to the blades. Not to avoid injury—there
was no possibility of that—but that the injury would be like Luke’s, a wedge
of flesh, so I could go to the house, too. I chose smaller pieces, hoping my
weight could control the lurch. Then I ran out of small pieces. I picked up the
smallest of what was left, but the metal was still thick. I shoved it through
and waited for the jaws to crash shut. The sound of solid iron fracturing was
thunderous. The iron bucked, tossing me forward so both my feet left the
ground. I let go and collapsed in the dirt, and the iron, now free, and being
chewed violently by the blades, launched into the air then crashed down next
to me.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Shawn appeared in the corner of
my vision. He strode over and pulled me to my feet, then spun around to face
Dad.
“Five minutes ago, this monster nearly ripped Luke’s arm off! So you’ve
put Tara on it?”
“She’s made of strong stuff,” Dad said, winking at me.