“A year or so after you…left,” Cal said.
Micah stroked his beard. “I see. So, what? You’re Frida Friedman now?”
She laughed. “God, no. Can you imagine? The choice to keep Ellis was a no-brainer.”
“I didn’t realize that kind of thing—marriage—still happened,” Micah said. “And so young, too. That must’ve been quite a surprise to everyone.”
“Not really,” Cal said. “My mom always said I was an old man trapped in a kid’s body. I was only twenty-three when we did it, but damn if it didn’t feel like a decade had passed since I left for Plank.” He tried to smile. “People said it seemed right for us. Besides, it’s not like we had a wedding.”
“No? What a shame,” Micah said.
“Your parents gave us their rings,” Cal said, “but we sold them, for money to get out.”
“Good for you,” Micah said.
No one spoke for a moment.
“Can you tell us how it is that you’re here?” Cal asked. “Please.”
Micah scrunched his lips together. “It was a prank, Cal. An elaborate prank.”
“But someone blew up. People died.”
“What made you so certain it was me?”
“The Group claimed it,” Cal said.
In good old terrorist fashion, the Group had issued a statement five hours after the bombing. They’d released a photo of Micah and some gibberish about taking back public spaces for the common citizen. The police had confirmed his identity; there had been DNA evidence.
“Did we ever claim anything before that?” Micah asked.
“Come on, you’d been posting your stunts online for years.”
“But we never officially owned up to anything violent.”
“That doesn’t mean you weren’t responsible.”
Micah sighed. “Look, I’ll tell you this much.” He took off his hat. Cal saw nothing until Micah bent forward. There it was on the crown of his head, a dime-sized bald spot in his mess of hair, pinkish and rough edged
“Did you get that in the bombing?”
“I got it a few hours before. Hurt like a motherfucker. That, and we drew a bit of my blood. Put it on a vest we planted there.”
Frida spoke up. “Someone scalped you?”
Micah put his hat back on his head. “Just a patch.”
Cal shook his head. “That’s absurd.”
“Bingo.”
“Did anyone blow themselves up?”
“Yes, just not me.”
“Didn’t they want the credit?”
“Credit didn’t matter to him. He was dedicated to the cause.” Micah sighed. “It was important that everyone think I’d done it. It was proof of my commitment to the Group.”
“Except it wasn’t you.”
Micah nodded. “What can I say? I was needed elsewhere. Anyway, the bombing drove away anyone who wasn’t serious about the Group’s cause, and we recruited a bunch of new members.”
Cal nodded. “No more tap dancers, right?”
Micah laughed. “Exactly.”
“People died,” Cal said. “Including some brainwashed maniac. He died anonymously for your cause.” When Micah didn’t reply, Cal asked, “Why did you do it? Was it really to protest that awful mall?” He looked at Frida, but she didn’t even seem like she was listening. He wanted to pour a bucket of water over her to get her to wake up.
“It could have very well been a fancy gym,” Micah said, “if they hadn’t all gone out of business by then.” He paused. “If you remember, Hollywood and Highland was still attracting business from Community members. They’d landed an exclusive deal with Calabasas, and another with Malibu was in the works. Those Communities agreed not to shop anywhere else, and in exchange, their members got special discounts. Not to mention the secure shuttle rides.”
“Other people went there, too, though,” Cal said. “Not just Community members.”
“But how long would that last?” Micah asked. “There were plans to cordon off certain sections of the mall.”
Cal shook his head. “So what? The people who worked at the mall lived in L.A.! What about them? And the money Calabasas and Malibu spent went back to us, into the city. Didn’t you stop to think about that? Everything went downhill after what you did. Hollywood and Highland closed, and the Communities went ahead and built their own malls. Good work.”
“They’re called shopping plazas,” Micah said. “But yeah, I know.”
“I guess that means you didn’t totally fall off the edge of civilization,” Cal said. Frida looked up and nodded, as if there was something to agree to.
“It wasn’t a perfect plan,” Micah said, “I’ll be the first to admit that. But it invigorated the Group like nothing else would have, and the encampment was stronger after that, as you’re probably aware.” He fought a grin. “And then there were all those copycats, which I honestly didn’t predict.”
Cal felt himself sneer.