“I only meant—”
August winked. “I’m just messing with you. Come on, Calvin—that’s your full name, isn’t it? I know you thought I was some kind of recovered addict. I put you on edge.”
Peter, who was sitting in the pew across from Cal and August’s, shifted his body so that his legs blocked the aisle. “We do things for a reason.”
“I’m the last black man on earth—or at least around here.”
“They should make an action movie about you,” Cal replied.
This time, everyone laughed.
“There’s more to it than that,” Peter said. “People treat August special not just because of how he looks but because of who he is. He’s very talented at getting people to open up to him.”
“Amen to that,” Micah said.
August shook his head, but Cal could tell he was pleased.
“I still don’t like that you were in my house.”
“Yours? That house used to belong to Sandy and Bo,” August said.
“They’re dead. I’m not.”
Micah sighed. “We had to make sure no one else had been there since you and Frida left. And, besides, we were curious.”
“You never invited me inside,” August added.
That was true. Why hadn’t they?
Micah pushed himself off the stage. “Cal, we’re happy you’re here. I mean, it’s crazy.”
“It’s unprecedented,” Sailor said.
“No other outsiders have been allowed in for a long time, you understand?” Peter said. “Sailor’s right, it is unprecedented.”
Sailor smiled.
“Do you think the others will want us to stay?” Cal said.
“I’ve taken it upon myself to, you know, ask around.” Micah paused. “Everyone’s supportive, but I’m considering delaying the Vote until everyone has had a chance to get to know you. I want everyone certain.”
“What if we don’t want to stay?”
Micah raised an eyebrow. “What if you don’t want to, you mean?”
“You can’t expect me to just accept this place blindly.”
“I know you have a lot of questions,” Micah said. “We’ll answer them in due time.”
No one spoke for a moment.
“We’d like you to come to our meetings,” Peter said.
August and Sailor were silent.
“Why?”
“Because you’re really smart,” Micah replied. “Plus”—his voice grew soft—“you’re my brother-in-law.”
Cal looked back at his duffel bag. The handles were scrunched narrow where August, and then Sailor, and then Peter, had carried it.
“I don’t know.”
“There’s time,” Peter said.
“Nothing but time out here,” August said.
“What about Frida?” Cal asked.
“What about her?”
“This is a boys’ club, I gather.”
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. We’re the ones charged with keeping the Land safe—we’re the most physically capable. And mentally, too.” He paused. “If you want in, you need to follow our rules, keep our discussions private.”
Cal nodded. “Sure, okay.”
“He’s serious, Cal,” Peter said. “Don’t tell anyone what we talk about.”
This speech, Cal realized, was directed at Sailor as well.
“No spousal privilege,” Micah said.
“You don’t want Frida to know what we discuss?”
Peter shook his head. “Only who’s present. The others have learned not to ask.”
“It’s no big deal, Cal,” August said. “Most of it will be summarized during the Big Meeting later on.”
“‘Most of it’?” He couldn’t help himself.
“Cal,” Micah said. He stepped forward and put out his hand.
August and Sailor were watching them, waiting.
Cal hesitated.
“What is it, California?” Micah had put his hand down.
“Things will really change,” Cal began, “and in just a few months.”
“They’re changing already,” Micah said. He crossed his arms.
Cal nodded. “It won’t just be the two of us anymore.”
“Yeah, there will actually be others around,” Micah said. “Imagine that.” His eyes were hard, but there was also a blankness there. He didn’t get it.
“Didn’t August tell you?” Cal said.
Everyone looked at August, who had put his sunglasses back on. “Tell them what?”
“That Frida’s pregnant.”
No one said anything. Someone walked by outside, dragging what sounded like a shovel along the dirt. Scrape…scrape.
“Is that right?” Peter said. His eyes were on Micah.
Scrape…scrape.
Micah didn’t say anything. Sailor, for once, wasn’t talking.
Cal waited, brushing his hand along the seat of the pew. His fingers came up dusty.
He had let himself be so stupid. Micah had said he was smart, but he wasn’t. He was an idiot. He’d assumed that Frida had told August she was pregnant, and that August had told Micah, and that when Micah invited them to stay on the Land, he was inviting three people, not two.