California: A Novel

“But to give them up—” Frida stopped herself midsentence. She wished she could take it back.

 

“I’ll never forget it. All the kids left together on the school bus, dressed in clothes August had provided for them. Crisp, clean dresses for the girls and pants and button-down shirts for the boys. Even tiny outfits for the little ones. Ogden had a smile on his face when they put him into his carrier, like he was proud of how he looked, like he was excited for the ride. We could almost pretend it was normal, our babies’ first day of school. We waved until the taillights disappeared.”

 

Frida remembered the bus, parked in that meadow like something out of a children’s book. Frida imagined Anika giving her baby away. He would be covered in a light blue blanket, to protect against the chill of the early morning, his tiny clenched fists hidden beneath it. Had Anika run her index finger over Ogden’s gums one last time, to feel the teeth cutting through? Did she cry out as Ogden’s familiar weight left her arms? Or did she remain stoic? As something dark pressed at the edges of her chest, did she press back? This was best for Ogden, she must have told herself. Wasn’t it?

 

The day they found out Micah was dead, Hilda said she could still feel the top of his baby head beneath her nose, against her mouth. She said she remembered the way she’d comb her fingers through the fuzz of his hair as she nursed.

 

Anika gestured for Frida to step aside so she could roll out the dough.

 

“You can’t think too hard about this, Frida. We all had to make sacrifices. I suppose that includes your brother as well.”

 

“Micah is sweeter than he lets on,” Frida said with a smile. “You know he kept this toy? We loved it when we were kids. It’s a little bee, well, it’s a butterfly. But my brother has it in his room.”

 

“The Bee?” Anika said.

 

“You know it?”

 

“He gave that to Ogden, before they left.” She put both hands on the table before her, to settle herself. “He took it back?”

 

“I’m sure there’s an explanation…” Frida didn’t know what else she could say. Her brother had given the toy to a baby, and then he’d taken it away. It was petty at best. At worst—she couldn’t go there.

 

She wondered what other cruel things Micah was capable of. She tried to imagine Randy hanging the Pirate’s head from the top of the tallest Spike. He was probably crying, and her brother would have remained calm, as if instructing the boy how to decorate a Christmas tree.

 

“What about Randy?” Frida asked.

 

“He’s at C.A.P. now, too.”

 

“Deborah let him go?”

 

“It was the only way,” Anika said.

 

They didn’t speak for a moment, and then Anika placed both her hands flat on the table and said, “Frida, let me tell you about your brother.”

 

“I know my brother.”

 

“You don’t,” she said.

 

Frida waited.

 

“The first year Micah was here, I was very difficult to live with. Losing my baby was harder on me than the others, I don’t know why. I wasn’t very cooperative, I talked back, I didn’t want to help with the Forms, or anything, really.”

 

Frida wished she could stop listening; she knew something bad was coming. If only there was a door to slam, a bridge to jump off. But she let Anika keep talking.

 

“On a particularly dark day,” Anika said, “I refused to show up to the Church’s meeting. I lay in bed all day, crying. I thought I’d be reprimanded publicly, but it was worse.” Anika stopped.

 

“What is it? Just tell me.”

 

“Micah came to my room when the others were outside working. He told me that if I didn’t get in line, there would be no place for me on the Land. He said it would be worse than I could ever imagine. He was whispering. He said the Pirates were still out there, beyond the Forms we were building, and that they’d kill me if they ever got the chance.”

 

Frida didn’t say anything.

 

“I didn’t talk back, I just wanted him to leave my room. But he didn’t. Instead he leaned close and whispered, ‘Ogden was yours, right?’ He began to describe my son: the color of his eyes, the birthmark on his left arm, the shirt he was wearing when August carried him onto the bus. I started to cry—how dare Micah threaten me like that? I’d already given him everything.”

 

Anika was crying now. She wiped her eyes with the back of her arms. “Then he turned and walked away. I had my eyes on his back. That’s when I saw the red peeking out of the back pocket of his jeans. It was just the edge of a bandanna, grazing the hem of his shirt, but as soon as I saw it, I felt that same jolt of fear, and I had to shut my eyes. I should have screamed. I don’t know why I didn’t. Micah had put the bandanna there, so I’d see it, I’m sure of it. He must have heard me gasp because he turned around once more. He actually smiled at me.

 

“He said Ogden would be safe. All I had to do was attend the meetings and get along with everyone else. With him.”

 

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